#the stars and how she knows the fate in the cards

[ldrloversblog]

In defence of Vivziepop and the women of HB

I’ve been seeing a lot of people criticising and bashing Vivienne for the way she writes her female characters compared to her male characters and to an extent fans and the antis are correct and their criticism is valid but it’s reached to a point that the fans and the antis are being more misogynistic than the person the claim to be a misogynist (Viv).

They are always blabbering about how she can’t write a woman who isn’t mean, evil, emotional and has no depth or a sad backstory. I believe that most of the times people forget that Viv is not the sole writer of the show, yes she is the creator but she is not the only one in the writing room she is not the only one who has control over the story and the characters there is whole team involved.

“But all her female characters are mean without reason”. Wrong there are reasons why they are the way they are.

Verosika is the way she is because of Blitz. In AT we learned that when she finally mustered up the courage to confess her love for the person that was her boyfriend and presumed bodyguard at the time (since she is a pop star) left her in the middle of the night without an explanation and stole her credit card which he maxed out on horse riding lessons. Ver isn’t a bad person just because, she is that way cause of heartbreak, hurt and betrayal. She even had his name tattooed on her arm that’s how committed she was.

Barbie Wire, a child with an abusive father turned to addiction and alcohol and we know that she still keeps on using because of a freak accident that killed her mother, burned the circus, left her and Blitz’s best friend disabled for life and scars than can never be healed.

Loona an abandoned child that grew up in the orphanage and every time she got adopted she got turned back due to her temper and problematic teenage behaviour. Of course someone who was never wanted as a child and treated nicely isn’t gonna be all sunshine and rainbows. Despite all that Loona has come a huge way from being the always mad, defensive and socially awkward hellhound we met in ep.1.

Octavia, one of the most if not mischaracterised and wrongly hated character of the show. The first time Octavia is shown to us she is a child that has a terrible nightmare where she can’t find her father anywhere. From that alone we can understand that Octavia is someone who’s afraid of being abandoned by the only person that she can find comfort in. Her parents constantly scream at each other and most of the time ignore her (whether it’s intentional or are too wrapped up in their own problems and goals) and never try to communicate with her properly or explain the whole situation. She is not a spoiled little princess who’s always broody and “emo” and annoying just to be, she is 17 a very vulnerable age at which she needs the two people that are supposed to take care of her in the world the most but she doesn’t and she feels that she never had them cause she never mattered, the only thing that mattered were their petty fights and duties. Via is allowed to feel hurt by her parents actions and lack of care and is right to confront them for their shitty behaviour towards her her whole life. She needs time to process what’s going on and come to terms with her own emotions and situation. If she doesn’t want to hear what Stolas has to say right now then that’s the right thing for her to do now. The love and trust she has for him is so strained and it’s gonna be a while before he can make up for his mistakes.

Stella is another character that the fans and antis complain that is evil (or cartoonishly evil which is boring as they’ve said after the last episode) because Viv has always to make her women unlikeable and stupid. Stella and Stolas were forced into the same fate without their consent at the age of 10 and have been miserable ever since. I like Stella I’m not gonna lie she is not the best written villain and we don’t know why she is the way she is but what we know is that she really hates and resents her husband and doesn’t really care for her child unless it’s to manipulate her against her father. Cartoonishly evil or not, she is entertainingly stupidly evil for someone driven by her hate and big ego, a narcissist that’s always right and above everyone else but what she doesn’t understand is that her brother is holding the strings and plays her like a puppet so he can do his own bidding in the disguise of getting rid of her husband. Sometimes villains don’t need to have a heart wrenching backstory, someone or something that made them evil some people are just evil either by them themselves or their environment. There are 2 more seasons left of HB im sure that the writers sooner or later will give us a good explanation as to why Stella hates Stolas so much and wants him out the way.

Millie a Wrathian who thought that she was good for nothing but killing people and being “the muscle”. Millie (as seen in GF) worked by herself taking jobs to survive and make a living until she met I.M.P and became a part of a team, a family that taught her that she is more that just a machine to kill people and is now the best version of her self. Married, happy with her career choices and I can’t wait to see how s3 will handle the unplanned pregnancy plot because there are a lot of things on stake here.

Why do we as fandom always have to demonise women for the smallest things and baby men for the horrible and wrong things they do and have done to others? Why don’t you give the same energy to Paimon, Cash and Crimson? Neglectful and abusive fathers? Striker? Who preaches about how royals are the worst thing to happen to imp kind but the moment he is paid by a royal to betray one of his own he’s quick to take it and run? Blitz? Who until recently never apologised for the bad things he did and ruined so many people’s life’s? Stolas? Neglects his own child in favour of his lover and stuck in his own foolish fantasies in the process losing whatever little faith Octavia had in him, obliviousness to see past his nose and his (not purposefully) prejudices?

[articskele]

Thinking about....... Sun Onceler.........

[alnilaem]

coyote head and the body of a man — (e)

ghost/fem reader There's a killer on the loose. But your logging town is small and quaint and doesn't even appear on maps, so you know you're safe. That all changes when a gruff, big, taciturn man shows up at your workplace one day. Or; Simon is a fugitive serial killer, and you're the housekeeping girl that caught his eye.

cw for explicit content, graphic violence, possessive behaviour, size difference, cunnilingus, stalking

pinterest board | ao3 | for @spidehpig <3

Sometimes, you believe you were born in the centre of a dying star. 

Born on the crest of death and fated for a bleak life. Dead, before you even had a chance.

The universe sweeps before you. Infinite. Expansive. Hungry. You float at the mouth of the galaxy and it swallows you whole, but doesn’t seem to like the taste of you—too bland, too trite—so it spits you back out and sends you tailspinning. 

You land with a lack of courtesy. Tossed between trees and dropped in a basin. You find yourself in nowhere, Oregon. In a town flecked by a lake inlet and a clement fjord, where the moose population outnumbers the people population. It has a maritime allure but strangely enough, isn’t commercial enough to be a tourist hub. It’s too hidden in the thicket. Too deep in a borehole.

Every day here is the same. It's an abyss that yawns before you with no end in sight, lacking undue entertainment and vividness and excitement. There’s no light pollution so far off the beaten track, so oftentimes, you’ll wish upon shooting stars for someone to come for your deliverance. 

There’s a reason they say be careful what you wish for.

The day isn’t even halfway over and your bone tips already ache with hard work. 

It isn’t to say your workplace is busy. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. A cut-rate motel with more vacancies than residents found far-removed from the highway, taking only cash, no card, which is good for deterring paper trails and welcoming the transient but is bad for providing records when the police come knocking. 

You’ll get the occasional trucker, the sparse backpacker. In any case, folks stay here when they don’t want to be bothered. They’ll drive past the splintery welcome sign and stop at the diner for earthy, full-bodied coffee and a slice of famous rhubarb pie. They’ll recuperate in the motel and leave before sunrise, and you’ll be there to clean up what they leave behind, scrubbing the memory out of the fibreglass bathtub for whoever’s next. 

It’s a place where time fleets away. Hallucinatory. Where people pay their due and you hang your head because after all, you’re nothing more than the housekeeping girl. Cottony pinafore and a black dress. Mary Jane flats. Fingers desquamating from years of bleach and vinegar stuck in your nail beds. You get handed dog-eared tips and in return, you don’t ask questions. But maybe you should have.

You’re sliding the window cleaner back into its compartment on the cleaning cart just as your boss scales the veranda. He’s grinning and sporting sweat stains across his armpits. A patchy beard. A loose tie. 

Your nerves lock up tight when he grasps your shoulders. His razorous fingers and the pinchbeck of his wedding band saws under your skin. The dregs of his afternoon drinking knocks into you, and you try not to let your body betray you. Despite that, your eyes water and your nose crinkles. You white-knuckle your dress and almost pop the fabric of your pinafore. 

“How’s my favourite employee?” he grins. “Is she workin’ hard?”

There’s an irreverent innuendo somewhere in his smile. You ignore it and opt for a stale smile.

“I’m working,” you eke out. “I've got to restock the bathroom, then I’m done.”

“That’s good, peach. Real good,” he watches you collect toiletry essentials, then tacks on, “there’s a man in the lobby.”

You falter. The travel-sized shampoo bottle almost slips between your forefinger and thumb. 

“An outsider.”

It’s an observation, not a question. If the man in the lobby were a local, Phillip would have given you a name because in this town, everybody knows everybody. The fact that a name was bereft tells you your new guest came from elsewhere. Maybe he’s cutting through the main road on his way to Yachats for your town’s cascade mountains and bigleaf maple, or for the diner’s famous rhubarb pie. In any case, he's in need of a rest stop. 

“Mh. I’m gonna check him in. Just wanted to let you know I’m givin’ him this room, so try to hurry it up, okay peach?”

You blink slowly. This motel holds twelve rooms—there’s never been a need for any more—and currently, nine of those are occupied. That leaves three. There’s no reason for your boss to put up the new guest in Room 11, especially when you’re still cleaning it.

Phillip reads the question in the bend of your eyebrow. He smiles knowingly and pats your head. “He requested a room on the higher level. Room 9’s aircon is busted and Room 6 shares a wall with the Pettie’s. They’re loud.”

You sigh. “Ah.”

“Sorry peach,” he smiles like he’s apologetic, but you don’t think that’s the case. “Just get it done, alright? And add some extra coffee packets."

You furrow your lips. Displeasure flutters over you but you wash it away with a smile, refusing to irk him. You nod and pivot, bones bending against your skin for an escape as his hand whispers against your bum in an encouraging caress.

Anger simmers in your marrow. Phillip simply chuckles, disparaging.

“That’s a sweet peach.”

His voice gets muted by the tinny, rattling radiator as you make it to the bathroom. You stock it up dutifully—perhaps taking extra long to ensure he's not waiting outside for you—and spritz air freshener around the room when you finish. It’s a flaky, expired bottle of Platinum Ice which barely masks the town’s deep-seated smell of old-growth forest, petrichor and woody debris. You hope the new guest doesn’t have a sharp nose. 

You make sure to stuff the coffee station with extra packets before stepping out of the room. Off the mysteriously stained carpet, onto the veranda. You putter around with your large keyring, thumbing through the nickel-brass since you also have a key to the elementary school, post office, and city hall (aptly titled shitty hall by locals, since this town isn’t much of a city and the building’s roof is held together by nothing but rusty rivets and tassels of sprig collected in the corners). You’ve got so many keys because again, everybody knows everybody, and it isn’t rare to see the housekeeping girl at the motor lodge supplementing her income as a part-time teaching aid. 

Finally, you find the master key. You lock the room and roll the cleaning cart into the utility room before locking that too. Your wrist drags across your forehead, wiping away sweat, and you tug on your dress because perspiration has pasted it onto the pert curve of your breasts, the squish of your thighs. You furtively glance down your bodice and watch how the sweat pocks your skin, knotting your nipples against your cheap bra. Lament catches you in regards to your shower after work—it’s going to be freezing since the heating system here is so fickle—and in the paroxysm of your grief, the sound of heavy breathing eludes you. 

You don’t hear his footsteps. He’s an ambush predator. Stalking and shadowing in the tall grass, waiting for the moment your hackles melt to bite into your neck like an unripe stone fruit. You don’t see him, but you feel him. His breath tickling down your neck. The erogenous zone behind your ear. 

A gasp parts your lips and you whip around, coming face-to-face with a paunchy chest plated by moth-eaten flannel. You heft your head up, exercising the hinge in your neck. Paling at the sight that greets you.

He has a Cabela’s cap on. It’s pulled over his eyes, but a few blonde curls peek out from under the crown of his hat. He has a damaged, blistered face. A cauliflower ear. Nicks on his cheeks that distend from his skin and have turned pallid with time, rippling like seafoam petticoats on waves as he flickers his jaw. He wears jeans and mud-clogged boots and holds a duffel bag. 

His gaze unties you. You slowly find words, fitting them in an orderly queue in your mind as you avert your gaze and stare at the floor. Squirming. Preening. Sweltering.

“Welcome to Sockeye Inn, mister…” 

Silence. He lets your words awkwardly trail off. Doesn’t do anything to belay the discomfort in your belly. The man simply stares at you with brown eyes. 

Humiliation crawls up your spine and settles on your cheeks. It burns through your skin, withering you away, to which you fidget with your fingers and baldly nod towards the door.

“Your room is ready,” you murmur. “Enjoy your stay, sir. Uh– if you need anything just give us a shout. Phone’s on the bedside table.” 

Foolishly, you wait for a response again. Nothing. He towers over you, owlishly blinking, one slower than the other because he seems to have a lazy eye. You clench your skirt and softly shoulder past him, heading for the stairs as you hear him putter with the keyhole. 

You’ve halfway scaled it when a rasp distorted by what seems to be years of cigarettes stops you dead in your tracks. 

“Bring me a BLT and root beer.” 

You burn up at the muscle in his voice. The drag. Just as you’re about to reply, his room door slams shut and rocks across the veranda. 

Your dress is stickier than it was before. Perhaps an ice cold shower isn’t so bad after all.

The end of your shift slowly arrogates. 

After delivering food to Simon Riley—you glinted at the logbook while waiting for his order, reading his name—you left his room as soon as possible. You set the food down and found yourself plugging your nose. The Platinum Ice you sprayed before didn’t accost you— instead, it was pomade. Lucky Strike cigarettes. Decaying heartwood. Bleach. 

You pointedly breathed through your mouth. It didn’t actually help though, since you could taste it then. The ethanol in the air drizzled over your pockmarked tongue and glided down your throat. Collected in your stomach. 

You almost retched it back up at the sight of him.

Through the foggy shower wall, the colour of his hazy contour was striking. It seemed to be a tight fit for him, hemming in his lumberjack build. The shampoo bottle looked like a damn accessory in his large hands and his chased shoulder blades pressed soap against the glass pane, sudsy. 

Your curiosity pulled your gaze lower. Down to the heavy mass between his thighs, thick and fat. Bulbous. 

His spine suddenly went erect, straightening like a chary animal. As if by the agitated pappus of his skin, his chin lifted in your direction, and that’s when the earth collapsed under your feet and you beetled for the door. 

You distract yourself in the kitchen. Emptying the dishwasher. Taking the garbage to the bear-proof receptacles. Putting the oven on steam clean. Kate, the kitchen supervisor, stares at you oddly under her hairnet but she isn’t going to reject a set of helping hands. 

You scrub at a pan hoping it will erase the image burned into your mind. Hoping that the steel wool will have the same effect on your temporal lobe as it does on the pan. You don’t realize your hands are chafing and the pan is flaking, not until Kate is passionately complaining beside you, her spit dashing onto the side of your face.

“—fuckin’ freeloaders. They drain our taxes but can’t even do their damn jobs. Wait until one of their family gets butchered, you’ll see, that’s when they’ll start taking this seriously.”

She waves a newspaper in your face. The paper stack fans in front of you, blowing you with cool air. You’re just barely able to read the big, blocky headline. 

Connection Made Between Ventura, Gilroy and Eugene Serial Killer — Aptly Coined the Ghost.

“Eugene!” Kate slaps the newspaper, frazzled. “Not even three hours from us!”

You scarcely listen to her, her voice ripening into white noise as you scrutinize the police sketch on the newspaper’s margin. The offender is drawn with an overripe balaclava and probing eyes. Dark brown, as if his corneal opacity has laid claim before death. His eyelids have no tension, but a furl of crow's feet gather at the corners. It’s uncanny. Eerie. And even though he’s pressed on paper, you can’t help the unease welling inside you. 

A part of you waits for the other shoe to drop. For him to manifest and crawl out of the paper, dripping ink and viscous tar, ruining your Mary Jane flats and the floor you’d just mopped.

Hemlock hits the back of your throat. Lemony, sedgy. Your eyes fixate on the information detailing his crimes. Spines broken and necks snapped with inhumane strength. Pieces of flesh carved with the precision of either a surgeon or a butcher. Rigour mortis locking the victims in a scream, nail beds caked with skin which implies a struggle, but leads nowhere since the Ghost’s DNA hasn’t been found on any database.

(He’s as elusive as his name suggests. Investigators say he could be foreign, or that he has a clean record. The latter seems unlikely for the violent calibre of his crimes.)

There’s also his modus operandi—slicing off his victim’s ring finger, taking it with him. A cruel reward. 

“They say he’s taking Route 101,” Kate tacks on. “That he’s a long-hauler. How the hell will they catch a long-hauler?”

You shake your head, shrugging. Your tongue is too heavy and your gums rub against the round of your cheeks when you try speaking. The sentence gets snagged on your molars, and all that comes out are sparse words, lamely falling to the floor with how out of breath you are. 

“…They’ll catch him.”

“They better,” she shortly huffs. “I don’t want this town making the paper for all the wrong reasons.” 

Death comes to you in a cornfield. 

You’re sprinting through the crop, barefoot and scantily clad and pricked by thorns. Your clothing catches on thistle and corn husk, slowing you down, but the quick-footed trampling at your tail keeps your pace steady and stable.

Your lungs burn. Your bones rasp. Your eyes well up with how fast you’re moving, with how your retinas strain to see more in the pitch black than just reflective corn silk and the crescent moon. 

The midnight sky is close to swallowing you whole, but at this point that would be an act of mercy. The whistle of his cleaver slicing through the air and the stomp of his boots are promptly catching up, heckling you, barely whispering against the flowy cotton of your dress.

By a cruel twist of fate your foot catches on a tiller and sends you flying. Your nose softens the impact, the crack of cartilage reverberating through your skull, glutinous red spurting down your chin as you try scrambling to your feet.

But true to his name, Ghost, he slips through matter and suddenly, he’s standing in front of you.

Black, sweaty tank top. Freshly sharpened meat cleaver. Stout arms. Predatory eyes. Rotting balaclava—which at this point, you’re starting to believe was grafted onto his face, fitting him like skin. 

You raise your hands for mercy. 

But you should know dead stars have exhausted all their luminosity—that after death, they hold no power. That space is a graveyard. That’s why the Ghost poises his cleaver behind him. That’s why the last thing you see is his cleaver handle swinging towards you, about to collide with and shatter your cheekbone into a million pieces—

—but daylight strikes you with no clear trajectory. 

It’s your alarm that rings, waking you up from a nightmare, telling you to brush your teeth and scrub yourself down and pop your supplements before biking to work. You do so sluggishly, standing under the shower spray as you massage your cheekbone. Burning your toast as you scour the news for developing details on the Ghost case. Ordering a cup of coffee from the local diner and gulping it down behind the motel lest Phillip catches you.  

Your nightmare—omen, prophecy, portent of death?��pursues you like the persistent stench of fish on an angler’s hands all morning. You flinch at the slightest noise while scrubbing toilets, you constantly look over your shoulder while sweeping floors.

Malaise builds in your blood vessels like creosote. It doesn’t thin into fluid, flowing in and out of your appendages and around your sex until you situate yourself in front of Room 11. Fluffing up your skirt and puffing out your chest.

You announce your presence and rap the door with your Mary Jane flat because your hands are occupied with new bed sheets. Your knuckles blanch around the linen, quivering, struggling to keep it in your grip. The sheets almost flutter to your feet when a voice penetrates the door, abrasive and husky. Rough. Grating against your spine and shaving down the vertebrae. 

“Door’s open.”

You wait a few seconds before contorting yourself against the threshold. You try the handle and lo and behold, it’s unlocked, swinging open when you press your weight onto it. 

You step inside and toe off your flats. Next to Simon’s boots, they look fit for a doll, and a dizzy spell ricochets through you at the size difference. At the stark reminder that he’s as big and packed as a thick tree stump.

You walk inside and heed the CRT television playing the news. 

It does nothing to soften the scream that rips out of you as you round the corner.

Simon is in bed, pulling on a cigarette. His pudgy tummy and bristly chest are bared, the steel wool of his happy trail disappearing into the bed sheets furled around his hips. The flat sheet is thin enough to outline something stirring. Something thick and pressed against his inner thigh. 

He stares at you, eyes of Argus. It’s so intense you’re sure he can sense the slick running down your back. The dew that settles in the gusset of your panties. 

You stutter. “I can come back later.”

Simon sits up with a groan. It rattles you. His joints must be fettered with age, or hard work, but in any case your head goes cottony with the picture of him splitting wood and hauling heavy bovine flanks. 

You swallow thick as he shakes his head. “It’s no problem, sugar. I’m not even here.”

The pet name makes you squirm. You sure do feel like it—sugar, that is—with the way you could melt on his tongue, wedge yourself between his teeth. Turn syrupy and sappy at the back of his throat.  

He takes another drag of his cigarette. You watch raptly as his jaw feathers around it, lips proffering another plume of smoke. 

He blinks. “Well?”

You eke out an apology and fiddle with your hands. 

“I’ll have to, um, change your bedsheets first.”

Simon shakes his head. He taps the ashy casualties off the tip of his cigarette and you watch as it sinks onto the bed sheet, almost burning through the floral motif. “No need.”

“Well,” you cough, forcing your eyes away from him, “if I don’t, my boss…”

Simon pricks up. The hind of his spine straightens the same way a dog would sit straight and plumb after hearing rustling in a bush. His muscles tighten, thick, and his face twists into a sneer. The bed sheet around him falls and you lock up tight lest it bare his pubic bone. 

“Is he a minger?”

“I’m sorry?”

He huffs. “‘s he a bully?”

“Oh, no,” you blandly laugh. “Mister Graves isn’t a bully. He just…”

“Makes you uncomfortable?”

There’s a lapse between acknowledging his question and spitting out an answer that makes you kick yourself. Simon already looks dubious. You hug the sheets closer to your chest and smile, your cheeks feathering like beeswax.

“He’s a kind man.”

“Not wha’ I asked,” he says. The bed creaks as he leans forward, the sheets slipping lower, scarcely covering his sex. “I asked if he does stuff he shouldn’t be doin’.”

Your heartbeat quickens. Briefly, you wonder if he can hear it. He probably can, albeit softly, due to his lumpy cauliflower ear.

“He’s a married man,” you mumble. “He doesn’t touch me if that’s what you mean. Not like that.”

“There’s only one way to touch someone,” Simon grunts. His chest starts churning a little, as if he’s agitated. “Does he put his hands on you?”

Your skin burns, remembering. A phantom scar runs through you, long and creeping, mapping all the places in which Phillip’s pinchbeck wedding ring has burned you. The suture of your spine, the pappy flesh of your neck, the rise of your hips where his palm has melted through your dress and smarted your skin.  

Your silence makes Simon grunt. 

Panic surges up your throat. You feel the need to defend Phillip, in some approximation of gratitude and fear since you’re on his payroll and you don’t want to reap the consequences should you rat on him and he find out. 

“No!” you hurry. “Mister Graves isn’t like that. He’s a good man. Honest.”

Simon’s eyes push against your skin. He scrutinizes you, tests you. Waits to see if you’ll fidget too much and flake away and sink into the carpet. 

He growls. “You fancy him, is tha’ it?”

Answering yes is the only way to shake him off your leg. You do so archly, so it seems as though the thought of your boss has you flushing when really it’s Simon. He’s fully upright, and now you can see the girthy base of his cock. Stirring, twitching. You suppress a moan.

“Yeah…” you murmur. You can feel your makeup turning blotchy, running down your cheeks. “It’s just a bit…embarrassing, is all.”

He lapses into it again. Staring at you. Razoring his way into your head and thumbing through your consciousness, searching for an Achilles’ heel. A crack he can break into a hole because he has the size for it—barrel-chested, stupidly thick fingers. 

Simon slips out of bed and disturbs the coiled aches of the mattress. He holds a washcloth over his crotch. It’s crusty and keeps shape and covers almost nothing, confirming your inkling. 

His bulbous cockhead winks at you from under the hem. It’s heavy. Leaky. Dripping precum that laves down his legs and gets caught in the wiry hair of his thigh. 

Anxiety pools in your armpits and around your groin. Or maybe that’s just arousal. Brackish and sticky, rubbing your pussy lips together, hugging your clit. 

Simon pulls on his cigarette once more and then folds it into the bedside table. You should scold him. You should tell him that he’ll have to pay for damages even though the wood is already degraded and mouldy. You should scuttle out of the room and call for Phillip, but that would be a crueler fate. Instead you stay fixed to the carpet as Simon steps forward. Cock swinging between his legs, tummy jiggling. 

You don’t know whether he’s going to pull you in for a kiss or rip off your dress or—and you’re unsure why you think of this—take you by your skull and smash it against the television stand. He has the muscle to, surely, but somehow you know he won’t. And the thought of that makes your skin hot.

You’re at his mercy.

You gird yourself for his lips or for your dress to be torn off, but your preparations flux away as Simon steps close and crowds you against the television stand. The stench of Lucky Strike cigarettes and gamey meat impair you, as he reaches behind you and increases the television volume. You want to say something but cotton fills your mouth and the news report floods your ears. It’s fragmentary—you can only heed oddments of the news anchor’s latest updates. 

The Ghost is still at large. Corpses keep popping up around California and Oregon, each with their ring fingers sliced off. The tipline has been leading investigators nowhere, shepherding them to the end of the earth and over the edge, floating, where they’ll move through molasses and will never be able to catch him. 

White male. 6’4”. 196 centimetres. Brown eyes. Heavyset. Likely military background. Likely a surgeon, or a butcher. A dangerous, ruthless individual. 

If spotted, do not approach. 

Simon’s breath fans against your neck, rousing the bristles of your warm cheeks. He turns off the television and steps back. An ether opens up in the pit of your stomach as your gaze falls on his bulging pelvis, on the purplish veins and webbing muscle, sitting like a tuft under his navel, disappearing behind the washcloth where his cock stirs. 

Simon tuts. “World’s goin’ to shite.”

You nod.

“You shouldn’t be out here anyway,” he tacks on. “Should be at home takin’ care of your man’s house. Keepin’ safe.”

You flash your naked ring finger embarrassingly fast. “I-It’s just me…and my cat.”

His eyes darken. His head tilts down at you. He purrs. 

“Better get started on mine then,” he breathes. “Put yourself to good use.”

You shyly get to cleaning his room. 

You try to ignore his hand disappearing behind the washcloth, pumping his cock. You can’t ignore the silk ruining your panties. Scarcely, you manage to ignore the caution creeping up your back. Your lower instinct that screams at you as you feel his stare tracking you across the room, burning. Smouldering. Warning. 

Daylight scissors into you.

It melts the sleep in the corners of your eyes. It clears the haze in your head. It interrupts the sultry dream you were having. Your flesh is still pocked and your clit is still peaked, as you rehash the contents of it. 

You can still feel Simon’s weight on top of you, sweat compressioning you, the sheets gathering under your slick back. Your underwear had dangled from one of your ankles, flapping and swaying as Simon pounded into you. Your head bobbed over the lip of the mattress. Your tits bounced, nipples caught between his gnashers. Your slick ran down your cunt and over your asshole, pooling onto the floral bed sheets. You just quit your job. You didn’t care about the sheets. Or the Pettie’s down the veranda. Phillip was on the other side of the door too, and he could hear everything. Your moans. Simon’s balls dragging over your furled hole. His groans—

—And the sudden tearing of cartilage and skin stretching, rubbery, as Simon shifted into something else above you. Something larger. Deadlier. His drool dripped onto your chest, and his cock was suddenly too big for your pussy, popping back out until only his tip managed to squeeze inside your puffy hole. He snarled down at you, but it got covered by a creeping balaclava. You still reached your orgasm, quivering around his cockhead. Watching him go spotty and graphite-like in your vision, as if he were a composite sketch.

You get out of bed and wash the absurd dream away under the shower. The nozzle hits your clit weakly, and you never reach your high. You show up to work pigeon-toed and sweaty. Pent-up. You scrub harder at bathtubs and almost snap at Phillip when he swats your bum. Almost. Simon is watching from the dining hall, and he makes you skittish.

The day rolls by sluggishly. There’s a Do Not Disturb sign dangling from Simon’s door, so you don’t get the chance to see him in his room. You huff and puff at the Pettie’s and give Kate attitude. It’s the peak of afternoon when you’re sent home, shoulders stiff because Phillip squeezed them and tacked on, ”I can always help out if you’re stressed, peach,” before shepherding you out the door.  

You bike into town. Indulge in the diner’s famous rhubarb pie because the motel’s cherry pie is nowhere near as good, though you’ll never tell Kate that. You polish off your treat then ride to the beach (which is more of a graveyard for birds and braided, washed ashore sea meadow), and prop your bike against the wooden bollards.

The beach is familiar with you. It sees you when you're overwhelmed by the monotonous colour of your life. You never worry about meddling kids or loud teenagers or anything, because the stench of fish usually keeps them away anyway. It's your own Shangri-La. Your little Eden. Albeit overcast and greyscale, with an ocean spray that gets into your hair and dries out your mouth.

You slip out of your Mary Jane flats and wade through the sand dunes, breathing in salt and sulfur and tasting it on your lips. You maneuver around seawrack and driftwood and eventually find yourself seated behind a tussock of seaoats, watching as the waves lazily beat against the shore.

It's easy for you to lie down and get comfortable among the scent of iodine and the feel of pillowy granules. It's also easy to let your eyes flutter shut, lulled into limbo by the ebbing tide and murmuring waves.

You stir awake with flaccid lungs.

Presentiment hangs in the air, thick, like a blanket of smog. It interrupts your breathing pattern and makes you light-headed. Vertiginous. Makes you see things that aren't there…

…Such as the off-white scleras and twists of dilated blood vessels that stare at you from the foreshore.

They approach you eerily. Two pieces of driftwood floating over the waves, jolting slightly as it hits the sand, splintery and mossy and heavy.

The man feathers toward you from the blue glow of the beach. You squint through the darkness, because maybe it's the sheriff, but you know he walks with a drunken gait and he…strides like a bear on its hind legs.

The way he lurches for you says otherwise. Perhaps he's rather a panther or a coyote, or some crude backyard breed of all three.

A large palm splits itself over your mouth. An arm lays beside you and secretes a musk of sweat and iron. A knee digs into the plush of your cunt, agitating your clit, as a warm breath fans over your pulse point.

"Waited for me, didn't you?" he rasps against your neck.

In your stupor, you brace your hands against his shoulders. A sticky substance coats his skin, too viscous to be sweat.

Nausea knots in your throat. Tremors wash over your body. You dig your nails into his flesh, and when your hands don't fall through it like you hoped, you gravely realize he's made of muscle and skin instead of your drunken, sleep-inspired imagination.

You experience a cruel loss of equilibruim. If you weren't already lying down, you'd collapse to the ground. You go limp in the sand, thawing into his hands which you unwillingly notice are caked with that sticky substance too.

"There's dangerous folk 'round here," he grunts. "What if someone else followed you? A big, bad man?"

A chord of recognition stirs in your brain at his voice. That brash accent.

"Simon…?"

He chuckles. "It's me, sugar."

You squeeze your thighs together but it's abortive. He pries them apart anyway, and cups your pussy through your panties.

He rubs you through the gauze, knuckling your soft lips. Through the darkness you barely see the misshapen silhouette of his mouth. That snarl, curling off him as if he suffers from some chronic wasting disease, slowly atrophying and turning into some vestigal cadaver.

He kisses down your sternum. Grips your hand and forces it over his crotch. Your fingers brush over the solid mass. It's hard due to both stiffened denim and his thickening cock.

"All for you," he mumbles. "Take it out, sugar."

You fumble with the metal teeth of his zipper. You pull him out with both hands and your mouth goes dry. Tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. Deadly nightshade hitting the back of your throat. Despite you, your thighs squish together, and a rumbling chuckle slips through the seam of his lips.

He's huge. Fat and heavy, so much so you need both fingers to wrap around him.

"Give it a kiss, yeah?" he coos. "Like a sweet girl."

You spread your lips against his cockhead. You pull away and a string of precum chases you, but Simon is pushing your head back down and bucking his bristly pubic bone into to your nose.

"There it is," he grumbles. "Such a big girl, aren't you?"

You look up at him with wide, wet eyes.

The stiffs of hair on his pubic bone tickle your nose. You smell sweat and iron, but you can't tilt your head away, because the stout muscle of his arms keep you in place.

Fighting is futile. His cockhead hits the back of your throat like oleander and he holds your jaw in place, dimpling your cheeks with his rough fingers, letting his balls slap against your chin.

Just as you're getting used to his size, he pulls out, breaking the strands of saliva and precum between you.

"Take off y'panties, sugar."

You pull them off and squirm at the way the gusset clings to your pussy lips a little while longer. Simon takes it against his nose and sniffs it, running his fingers through your pussy, spreading your slick.

You don't get a warning before he's curling one of his fingers into you. Massaging your walls. Scissoring you open. Thumbing your clit.

He adds another and twists them deeper—meaner—into you. He swallows your whimpers but spits them back into your mouth when he empties his saliva down your throat. He keeps stroking the inside of your pussy, your sticky walls, and rubbing your clit.

He squeezes your cheeks together and gives you a big kiss. He coos condescendingly into your lips, and licks away your fresh track of tears. "It's supposed to hurt, baby. Don't be mad, alright? It'll feel good soon."

He gets deeper and deeper. Knuckle-deep, when he curls his fingers inside you. You lock up tight and thrust your hips through the bulk of your orgasm, trembling and quivering around him.

Your lips quiver around a plea when he pulls his fingers out. It's a lapse of judgement on your part—you know it—but you can't help it anymore.

"Please what?" He grins. It's ugly. Like a truss of stitching falling off his face, mangled and chewed up.

"Can you g-go…" you squirm when he rolls his tumb over your clit, agonizingly slow. "Can you go–"

"C'mon baby," he whispers against your lips, "spit it out. Big girls use their words."

"Canyougodownonme?" you gasp and grip onto him, bucking your cunt into his palm.

He chuckles against your mouth. He kisses down your chest. He crinkles his nose against the husk of your pussy. He deeply inhales and vibrates at your scent. He darts his tongue out and flattens it against your dewy folds, licking a stripe up your slit.

You writhe but he holds you in place with those big, thickened hands of his. They're wet but at this point you can't tell if it's your arousal or that mysterious substance on him. You can't even think about it, not with your thoughts melting away, escaping you like the humming waves.

Simon's a bit too aggressive in how he eats you out. It doesn't come from a juvenile attempt influenced by sex-on-screen with undue emphasis, but rather his tongue spelling devotion into the fat of your cunt.

Your fingers flex into his blonde head of hair. It's closely cropped, but you still manage to pull him closer, grinding yourself down on the bumpy bridge his nose. You pull on his hair and he growls and sends a quake up your spine. He wraps his lips around your clit and swirls his tongue further into you, softly suckling your juices out.

The waves fold over each other, beating against the shore. They crest and crash and just as they race up the sand dune, teasing your flexing toes, your second orgasm crashes into you too. You twist and twirl Simon's hair in your grip and almost miss the feel of something cold being slipped onto your finger.

You're shaking, trembling, as you raise your hand. You're hazy and the moonlight is shrouded by clouds. It makes the mystery object look smeared across your vision, blotchy and spotty.

You hold it a little closer to your face, examining the twinkle as Simon massages your thighs to ease the quiver.

You turn your hand over and whisper your thumb over its curve.

You bristle when you realize what it is. It hangs off you a little loosely, burning your knuckle.

A pinchbeck wedding ring.

Stained with red, and still warm from the body it was pulled from.

Bile gathers in your throat and burns your mouth. Tears gather in your eyes. A small gasp parts your lips, billowing out of you like the mushroom-head of a flare just as realization fully commits itself to you.

You shiver. Both through realization, and your orgasm. "…What did you do to him?"

"Took care of him," Simon grunts, caressing your hair. "I'm supposed to handle the monsters under your bed, ain't I?"

You spare him a glance. You heed the white of his teeth and a smudge of—you know it's blood—across his cheek. His eyes, hidden in the shadowy canopy. His nose, bent out of shape and speckled with blood.

"You're not going to hurt me."

He brushes your hair back. "No."

You pant into him when he captures you for a kiss. "…Why?"

"I'm supposed to take care of ya," he grunts. "That's what couples do, no?"

He pushes something in your grasp—a folding knife. Your thumb slips over the two initials engraved into the handle—your initials.

"How do y'feel about Kate?" he asks.

Your coworker flashes into your mind. "I like her"

Simon—the Ghost—grunts. "And what about that bloke at the diner? What's his name?"

"I– Franklin?"

"Hn. Does he bother you?"

You thumb through your memory. Perhaps what you say is an embellishment, giddy of what Simon's going for.

"He did steal my bike once…" you mumble.

Simon pricks up. His chest puffs out and squishes against your arm. "He married?"

"Yeah, um," you swallow, "for about ten years."

"You want his pretty ring? Or his wife's?" Simon asks, then kisses you. "Anythin' you want."

Your lips stretch into a smile.

Simon cups your cheek, blood rubbing off on you. For the first time ever, you feel exhilarated at the thought of the future. At the thought of being taken care of. Doted on.

Suddenly the town doesn't feel so cold anymore. It doesn't feel like an invisible barricade is hemming you in. Simon is your ticket out of here, and a ticket to your new life.

You can abandon your pinafore and Mary Jane flats and maybe he'll spoil you with frilly socks and a cute sundress. Maybe he'll fuck you in his truck or in gas station bathrooms as the corpse of a man who wronged you rots in the truckbed. Maybe you'll get caught but at least you'll be together and at least your name will finally be known.

Not as the housekeeper girl, but Mrs Riley.

[haologram]

how to be a latin lover ♡ h.js (m)

♡ synopsis: the dreadful semester has started — meaning your summer vacation has come to end, and so has your summer fling…or has it? ♡ genre: summer fling au ; big dummy dumb idiots to lovers ; ta x student dynamics. ♡ pairing: spanish ta!joshua hong x chaebol!fem!reader | side pairings: lee chan x jung haerim (weki meki) ; wen junhui x lee saerom (fromis_9) ♡ word count: 26.8k ♡ rating: 18+. minors do not interact, i beg. ♡ warnings: honestly, a little toxic if you squint. lots of pining. hella slow burn. lots of suggestive commentary but no smut because i'm ass at it (sorry if you wanted some, maybe during the lore drops for this fic later this year i'll add some) and very, very toxic mother-daughter dynamics [official warnings: joshua and y/n are absolute idiots. i’m talking the dumbest mfs you’ve ever encountered, you’ll want to scream at them through the screen.] ♡ what to listen to: otro atardecer - bad bunny, the marías ; get to you - mac ayres ; sky full of stars - coldplay ; brave enough - leehi ; qué locura enamorarme de ti - eddie santiago ♡ a/n: it's finally here! thank you to @camandemstudios for allowing me to be a part of such a wonderful collab (and i promise hoshi will be out by next week!) thank you to @tomodachiii , @wqnwoos and @highvern for betaing this stupid behemoth and telling me to stop being a little bitch (no one said that). hopefully i will see everyone soon with the hoshi version! thanks for reading!

Monday, August 29th.

Summer is over.

A sad fate deemed inescapable, despite your sunkissed glow and endless array of swimsuits begging you to stay on the beach – you were forced to return to reality after spending six weeks in Mexico, away from the shackles of your mother's constant nagging and the fall semester of impending doom. Your trip was all-expenses paid, of course – thanks to daddy's big, fat wallet.

You had no worries – your skin was clear, your hair was bouncy, your belly was full of delicious food as you pranced the streets of Puerto Vallarta with your best friend, Lee Saerom. Your father didn't even know he'd footed the bill for her, too. He didn't check the credit card report after you booked your trip – just nodded absentmindedly and waved you off, his voice echoing the walls of the office. "Have fun, honey."

Well? The fun you had…is now here to bite you in your sweet, sunkissed ass.

Summer flings have been your thing since you were eighteen – so since your parents finally let you out of their grasp to 'explore.' Whatever the hell that meant, you didn't know, but you gladly took the plane tickets and went off to wherever they sent you. One year, it was Greece, and your summer sweetheart grew a bit too obsessed with you – leading you to change your number and start using burner phones for vacations.

You covered all your tracks. You didn't even give this guy your social media accounts, you gave him your burner number…you didn't even tell him your last name. Yet, you are so undeniably screwed.

"Hello, everyone!" He scans the room as he takes a sip of his coffee, glancing at the door. "I'm unsure if you all received the email, but Professor Lee won't be in today." He's still scouring faces, taking in new ones and recognizing old ones. He hasn't seen you, and you're sure if you just sink a bit further down, he won't. "I'm Joshua Hong, and I'm Professor Lee's teaching assistant this year. She asked me to review the syllabus with you, in lieu of her absence." He taps the stack of papers on the large oak desk, clicking his tongue. "I'm gonna put the digital copy up on the projector, and you guys can just pick one of these up on your way out. Sounds good?" The class seemingly nods simultaneously, and you find yourself sliding down your chair as he walks to dim the lights. "That being said, welcome to Beginning Spanish Conversation! I took this course last year, and Professor Lee is super nice so you won't have to worry about getting into any scuffles with her."

He's speaking to himself as he connects everything, the home screen of his laptop popping onto the projector screen. It's him and two other guys dressed as the Powerpuff Girls. He giggles to himself before using the laser pointer. "Not that you guys care, but these are my friends." He points to the one dressed as Buttercup, tied to a moving dolly with a sour expression on his face.

"This is Jeonghan. He's another TA on the East Campus, and the secretary of my fraternity! If you ever see me off campus, I'm likely with him and this guy." He points at the one dressed as Bubbles with a tiara on, a guy you recognize but can't seem to place. "This is Seungcheol. He's President of Beta Tau Omega, in case you're wondering where you've probably seen him before." You freeze as he opens his Safari, hoping that comment wasn't directed at you. It opens to the syllabus, and you feel your lips twitch at how cute Professor Lee made it. There is a floral border surrounding the page, and he points the laser on the screen again.

"Okay, so. Again, I'm Joshua Hong and your professor is Lee Hyori. This is Beginning Spanish Conversation, so we'll be learning a lot of vocabulary and common phrases. Enough to get you by in case you're ever stranded in the middle of Guadalajara with no phone and no money." He smiles, and someone raises their hand in the front.

"Are you speaking from personal experience?" It's Jung Haerim, a girl from your World Cultures class last semester.

His smile only grows slightly wider as he shakes his head. "No, and yes. I got lost in Denmark. Copenhagen, to be exact, and I had to flirt my way onto the train. Not as fun as it sounds, trust me." He returns to the screen, carefully going over what the students could expect in the coming weeks. He reiterated that Professor Lee loves pop quizzes, so stay prepared. It was only then when he finally stopped speaking, flashing yet another award-winning smile. 

"Any questions?"

Your hand is crawling to cover your face as people start asking questions, further prolonging your suffering – when you feel eyes on you. Peeking through your fingers, you see him peering at you over the rim of his tumbler. They hold a mischievous glint, and he casually continues answering questions.

Where are you from?

"Los Angeles. I moved here when I was about…nineteen? Yeah." You already knew this.

How was your summer?

"Pretty good, I spent eight weeks in Puerto Vallarta. I got back maybe three days ago, and only then did I find out I got this position." You knew this, too. He probably remembers you.

What's your major?

"I'm a Music major, with a minor in Jazz Studies." He told you this on your third night together, over an IPA and a shared basket of chips and salsa. You burned your tongue on your food that night, you couldn't taste for days.

Oh? Why that?

"I've always been passionate about it. Funny, I took Spanish to broaden my horizons for it. I'll hopefully be a producer after graduation."

Your impatience begins to show as you bounce your leg irritably, and it's almost like he can hear your thoughts. "Alright, alright. I'll literally be here every time you guys are, so save your questions about me. Or, find me after! We can hang, I'm usually at the frat anyway." He shrugs, gesturing to the pile of papers on the desk.

"Syllabus, take one!" His smile is bright as you scramble down the steps, snatching the piece of paper off the desk and just about sprint to the door. You can feel your cheeks heating in embarrassment as you barrel down the hallway, deciding to skip your next class in hopes of drowning in your shame.

You spot Saerom a few feet down the hall, smiling and talking to one of your other friends, Chan. He was rushing that stupid fraternity this year, so if your math was right – you wouldn't be able to avoid Joshua at all this year.

"Saerom, I'm so fucked." You call, and she immediately spins around, a look of discernment on her face.

"Y/N, what are you on about this time? The last time you said that, it was because you left your Dior lip oil in Morocco." She deadpans, and you scoff. "Maybe it's about her classes." Chan reminds her coolly, and you sigh as you slump your forehead against his chest, earning a pat on the back from him.

"For once, the twink is right." Groaning, you bury your face further into Chan's chest. "I've got to transfer out of Spanish, or the University. I cannot be on this campus."

Your words are muffled against Chan's shirt, earning a sigh from Saerom as she places her hands on your shoulders. "Get a grip, Y/N! It's the first day of your last year, it's not the end of the world. You will not see any of these people next semester, trust me."

She's not understanding the severity of your issue, and only when you hear someone stop behind you, do you attempt to explain. "Saerom, you're not listening–"

"Saerom, is that you?" 

She looks up, her eyes lighting up as she gently gestures for you to hang on, pushing past to envelop whoever it was in a hug. You look over your shoulder, eyes wide as you see him looking down at your best friend.

"Shua! Oh my God, it's been so long! How's your mom?!" Shua. Oh, you feel sick.

Your breath hitches in your throat, before Chan's amused face comes into your line of vision as he drapes his arm over your shoulder – effectively hiding you from Joshua. "We'll let you guys catch up. See you later, Saerom?"

He tugs you away without getting an answer from her, and you almost make it out of the hall when you hear your name slip from Saerom's lips. "Oh, Y/N is my best friend! I'll have to introduce you sometime, you'd love her."

You barely catch Joshua's response as Chan makes a left out of the hall.

"I'm sure I will."

Friday, September 2nd.

"So…anything you want to tell me?" 

Saerom is standing next to you, placing forks next to slices of cake. The two of you had missed three birthdays on your trip, and you'd invited said birthday buddies over for a celebratory movie night to make up for it. You'd bought a cake on your way home from your first Organic Chemistry lab, and Saerom had set up the apartment with the small gifts you'd brought back from Puerto Vallarta.

To your luck, Saerom had pulled you aside while you were cutting the cake to talk to you.

"Uh, no? I skipped Spanish today? I used the last of my face wash?"

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms as she turns to face you. "You were never gonna tell me that you slept with someone this summer?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about? Obviously, you knew I'd find someone." 

You try to hold in the heat of embarrassment, but Saerom's like a dog with a bone. "Right, of course. How would I, your best friend, not know that you, my best friend, slept with a guy over the summer?" Soonyoung, Junhui and Nagyung were playing Mario Kart on your television, and couldn't hear the conversation being had in the kitchen. You felt your cheeks warm as you stared into the cake, a bit of chocolate frosting smeared on your knuckles. "Sae, it was just some random guy I met when you slept in. Why does this matter?" "It matters…" She huffs, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, and you give her a look of get on with it. "It matters because he's my cousin, Y/N."

Your grip on the spatula tightens. You can feel your stomach drop, eyes wide as you look back at her. "He's your what?"

"I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're thinking. I'd never be mad at you for that…even if it is weird for me." She says quietly, and sighs as you feel panic set into your skin. "I just…Why didn't you tell me? I transferred to this university for you, I tell you about all my hookups, and I had to find out through him that you guys were sleeping together for the last three weeks of our vacation?"

"How could I have possibly known the two of you were related? Better yet, why does it matter? It was just a stupid fling, Sae. I'm not trying to marry into your family, God." You mumble, placing the spatula in the sink and covering the rest of the cake with the plastic lid. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't think it would come back to bite me in the ass." "It doesn't. I thought you already considered me family, Y/N. It seems I've been under the wrong impression for a while." Her eyes are cold as she moves the cake slices onto a tray, and you feel taken aback. "What the hell does that mean?" "What the hell did you mean? As if marrying into my family would be so fucking bad? We're a great family. We're loving, open, and honest. Nothing like you, it seems!" 

You gape at her, before you feel a bit of anger claw at your throat. "Saerom, I didn't think I'd ever see him again! Of course I'm going to hope he doesn't expect anything more from me, because I can't handle that. I want a career, I want to own my parents' businesses after graduation. I can't let a guy tie me down, no matter who he is to my friends. You have to get that." Her eyes are hurt, contrary to the furious tug on her brows. She knows what you want out of life, she always had – at least, what you would let her believe. Your parents had expectations, and you, as their only daughter, had to fulfill everything. Taking over your father's companies, inheriting your mother's properties, continuing the bloodline. It was all on you.

God forbid a girl have a little fun on vacation.

"It's always about you and your career, isn't it?" She mutters, grabbing the tray and walking towards the living room. She stops in front of the doorway, looking over her shoulder. "I thought I could trust you, Y/N. It seems that being a Risk Analyst may not be my perfect fit, after all."

You kind of hate that this is happening.

No, scratch that. You hate that this is happening. You don't even really understand what just happened, or how Saerom could have possibly interpreted what you said as something bad. Despite these horrible circumstances, you knew that Joshua couldn't possibly be a bad guy. Granted, you'd skipped your Spanish class twice now, doing everything in your power to convince Chan to enroll into it so you wouldn't have to face Joshua alone. You even said you'd pay his stupid fraternity dues if he got in, no matter how bad you hated Beta Tau Omega.

Joshua was sweet on vacation, but everyone has their vacation persona, and their normal life characteristics. At home, you were serious, studious, and even slightly uptight.

On vacation, you were…flirtatious, unhinged, a bit wild. You took shots from strangers and stayed out in clubs and bars until the wee hours of the morning. You'd play games of chicken with cute guys, letting them kiss you in bathrooms and put their hands up your skirt.

Joshua did none of that, he didn't indulge your behavior. At least, not right off the bat.

He'd caught your eye at a restaurant, speaking perfect Spanish to the waitress. He looked…refreshing. Sweet, different from your past romances. He looked like someone you'd actually date, but you were on vacation and you weren't looking for a long-term, potentially long-distance boyfriend. A quick fuck, a cum-and-go, if you will.

You'd bought him a mimosa, ignoring his line of vision as you befriended a few girls you'd met at the pool of your hotel. Saerom decided to sleep in that morning, and almost every other time you managed to catch Joshua alone – she wasn't in your presence. Maybe that was the universe protecting the both of them, while scorning you.

He'd sent a glass of white wine to your table, also avoiding your gaze and continuing his breakfast conversation with his friends. Jeonghan and Seungcheol, now that you can put a name to the faces. You didn't bother then, it didn't matter.

Not until now, of course.

You remember walking past his table on your way to close out your check, slipping your name and burner number on a napkin. You remember his friends teasing him, even hearing one of them give a low whistle. You remember said burner phone buzzing in your pocket less than an hour later, and meeting up with him that night at a salsa club down the beach.

You also remember cuddling on a hammock with him, pointing out stars you'd memorized as a kid because you wanted to be an astronaut. You remember him kissing your fingertips as you talked about your life back home, leaving out details of where you lived, where you went to school and who your parents were. You remember his eyes scanning your face, lingering on your lips as you sighed, voicing your unhappiness.

You had truly opened up to a stranger faster than you had anyone else. Even Saerom didn't know you felt this way about your life. How could she? She was under the impression that you loved it, you loved feeling important, you loved the money your lifestyle was funded by. That you didn't care about your parents' emotional absence, and the overwhelming amount of nannies being rotated in and out of your childhood in place of them.

Some things are better left unsaid, you remind yourself. You have to remind yourself that this façade needs to be upheld. You have to make your parents proud. You have to.

Right?

You're still standing in the kitchen when Nagyung appears in the doorway, her voice soft as she calls out to you. "Y/N?" You jump, a hand to your chest as you look up. She apologizes, "Sorry! It's just…the movie is starting. Are you coming?" "Yeah, sorry. I'll be right there." You gesture at the mess of cake crumbs and frosting, and she gives you a quick smile before scurrying back to the living room. You turn to wash the spatula, your mind just reminiscing as you grab the soapy sponge.

"So you're going to take over your father's business?""Yeah, I'm an only child, so I don't have much of a choice. If I don't take it, it just goes to the highest bidder. In my mind, it wouldn't be the end of the world if that happened, I'd get to pursue my own path."

"If you think that, why are you taking it over? Why not tell your parents that you have dreams you want to pursue? I know it's easier said than done, but office jobs are not good for the soul in my opinion." He spoke confidently, his fingers twirling your hair.

"I'd be ungrateful, I'd be throwing away hundreds of properties and investors. I'd be throwing away this lavish life I live, funded by my father's money. I'd be throwing away a secure future…and I'd be letting them down."

You didn't want to be an astronaut anymore. You'd long let that dream go, along with an eight-year-old you that had posters of Yi Soyeon and constellations plastered all over your room. You remember your mother standing in the doorway of your bedroom when you got your first poster of a supernova, a glass of Merlot in her hand as she sighed. "You'll never be like them, you know? Going into space…eating peanut butter on crackers and floating. It's not possible." She had been right, anyway. You had put all of those posters up in your attic, along with your rocket models when you moved for college. The only thing you kept and brought with you to University was the orrery your last nanny gifted you for your fifteenth birthday. It sat pretty on your desk in your room, mocking your every move.

You were getting a business degree. You were majoring in Marketing. You're taking Spanish for the same reason Joshua did, to broaden your horizons, and make business boom. To feed the greed that festered in your parents, and give them what they want.

But…unbeknownst to them, you were also majoring in Physics. You wanted to give yourself the sliver of hope that they wouldn't actually want you to take over the firms, that you'd get to continue your education and get your doctorate. That you'd be a plasma physicist and watch everything happen in real time for space research, without having to leave Earth's surface.

Delusions, all of it.

"Welcome. You missed the first fifteen minutes." Soonyoung scoots over, offering you the lit joint between his fingers as you sigh. Taking it, you plop down on the couch cushion, your leg draped over the armrest. "Takes time to have a clean house, Hoshi." Saerom glances at you from her spot on the floor, her eyes unreadable as she blinks. She frowns slightly, returning her attention to the television. You can tell she feels uneasy about the entire situation. She's probably asking herself how she didn't catch on, or why she didn't ask.

And the truth is, you're kind of glad she didn't. Had she done so, you probably wouldn't have slept with him. You probably would've found out they were family and completely ghosted him, or at least told him that you were her friend. You would've let him down much more easily, instead of leaving Puerto Vallarta without saying goodbye and throwing your burner phone in the garbage at the airport.

Everything would have been different, you would have acted differently.

Nonetheless, you can't dwell on the past. You can't keep skipping Spanish, and you can't let your grades slip over some stupid summer hookup. What you can do is pretend it didn't happen. Pretend you've never seen him in the nude, pretend you don't know what his lips feel like. Pretend like he didn't affect you deeper than he did, because it wasn't just sex.

And you hate that it wasn't.

Monday, September 5th.

"You love me, Lee Chan!" You'd done it. You'd convinced him to join your class so you wouldn't be subjected to Joshua's nonexistent wrath alone. Seeing Chan leaning on the wall next to the door was a sight for sore eyes – even if he was trying to subtly flirt with Haerim.

"Y/N, you're going to scare the hoes!" He speaks through gritted teeth, allowing you to envelope him in a tight hug. "Ugh, you've saved me from a world of misery." "You're so needy." He mutters into your hair, making you pull away with a smug look on your face. "Well? Why is everyone out here?" "Professor Lee isn't here today. We're waiting for Joshua to get the door open." Haerim speaks as she locks her phone, shoving it into her pocket. She eyes you up and down, noticing the slight frown on your lips. "Why did you skip twice already? The semester just started." Grimacing, you make up a lie. "Prior commitments. Couldn't miss 'em." "Right…" She gives you a look of discernment before fishing her phone back out of her pocket. "I'm gonna skip, actually. You still have my number, right? Can you forward what you guys do today?" Upon seeing your nod, she gives you a lazy smile and worms her way through the crowd of students forming around the door. Everyone is whining and complaining, but you're now searching the hall to see if you can also make a run for it…

"Hey! So sorry, guys. Professor Lee just called me." A slightly disheveled Joshua appears behind a group of girls, holding up a set of keys. You look away, meeting eyes with Chan – who is squinting at Joshua as if he knew him. "Is that…Isn't he the Vice President of Beta Tau Omega?"nk

"Leave it up to one of my best friends to befriend the enemy." You scowl, before looping your arm in his to tug him into the classroom. The front few rows are already filling out, with Joshua regaining his composure at Professor Lee's desk. You and Chan make a beeline for the back of the classroom, taking the last two seats in the third row.

"I'm rushing this year, I need to know my higher ups." Chan whispers back, and the two of you whip your heads towards the front of the room at the sound of Joshua clearing his throat. "Sorry again, everyone. Unfortunately, a late start will be followed by a quiz." He winces as a collective groan follows his announcement, and you feel your stomach flip. You don't know enough Spanish to pass this class by the seat of your pants. You barely retained how to introduce yourself from high school. "Don't worry, since this is the first quiz of the semester, I'll go easy on you. Just some general conjugation, and it's to see where you fall on the scale." Joshua speaks confidently as he walks around the room, handing stacks of the quiz to the first person in the row. You feel your eyes glued to the floor as he holds the stack out for you to take, and you hate how your hand shakes as you do so.

What you hate even more?

"Nice to see you in class, Miss Y/N." He whispers, before crossing his arms behind his back and walking down the steps. Chan snickers next to you, earning a smack. "Not funny!" You grit, whacking him again with the stack of quizzes.

"Once you are done with your quiz, I will grade it. You may then leave for the day, because I really do not have the energy to think of anything else to be done." He's rubbing his temples, and you hear a few people sigh in relief.

"Easy money." Chan whispers to himself, before clicking his pen and beginning the quiz. You glance down at it, your lip tucked behind your teeth. The quiz seems standard – a few conjugations, a few multiple choice. One short answer at the bottom, asking you to describe what you did over the summer in Spanish.

"Fuck." You mumble.

You can't lie to yourself, you probably fucked yourself over by skipping those last two classes. They probably reviewed, took notes. Maybe even engaged in actual conversation with each other, with Professor Lee…with Joshua.

Nonetheless, you feel your skin crawl when you notice that you've spent so much time agonizing over this, that you're one of the last students left. Chan finished at some point and you didn't notice, because now he's waiting by the door for you. You feel your throat tighten, forcing you to zero in and just scribble an answer at the bottom of your quiz.

Grabbing your backpack, you fling it over your shoulder before trekking the steps, noticing Joshua giving you a warm smile.

"Miss Y/N." He greets, taking your paper. You give him a tight nod, before spinning on your heel to leave. You're barely two steps in the right direction when you hear him again. "Ah, ah, ah! We need to speak, Miss Y/N. Turn around." You're semi-grateful that the classroom is nearly empty, because you know you look embarrassed as you turn back around. "Yes, sir?" His smile drops as you stand in front of him, and he taps his pen on your quiz. "You missed two classes consecutively. Per the syllabus, you can only miss six classes per semester, and we don't accept late work. You can't excel in this course if you're not physically here, you know." He's not being a douche. You know he's not, but you can't help and slightly bristle.

"I had other matters to attend to, sir. I'll be on time for the remainder of the semester."

This doesn't seem to satisfy him, and his brows furrow slightly before he shakes his head, sighing. He turns your quiz over, the capital C minus grade in red ink. 

"I know you don't want to be here, it's clear in your attitude. However, if you intend to pass this class, you have to show up. My tutoring hours are on the syllabus, revisit them and send me an email when you get a chance so we can get you back on track."

Your mouth opens slightly, and Joshua gives you a rather stern look. "Don't. I'm trying to help you." "Yes, sir." You mutter. He tilts his head towards the door. "You can leave." Huffing, you storm out of the room and nearly shove Chan out of the way when you reach the door. "Woah, hey! Don't kill me, Y/N!" He grabs your elbow, and you groan loudly. "Dude, what's your deal?" Chan asks, taking hold of both your shoulders as the two of you round the corner out of the hallway. 

"My deal, Chan, is that I fucking slept with the TA over the summer! That's my deal, dude!" You throw your arms up in exasperation, and a lightbulb seems to go off in Chan's head as his mouth forms an O-shape. You lean against the brick wall of the building, slowly sliding down and covering your face with your hands. 

"You..fucked Joshua Hong." He speaks, and you let out another groan, similar to that of a goat. "Yes, Chan. I fucked Joshua Hong in Puerto Vallarta in a random villa on the beach." "Spare me the details, will you?" He grimaces, running a hand through his hair. He squats next to you, making you look up at him with his hand. He gives your look of defeat a laugh, a concerned smile remaining on his lips as he touches his head to yours. "Don't worry, Y/N. He won't be anything but professional, I promise you."

"How do you know?" You whine, Chan's smile of concern turning into one of reassurance. "He clearly takes his job seriously, and he could've told the entire frat by now. Joshua Hong banged the biggest chaebol on campus, Kang Y/N. Crazy." You can tell he's trying to make you feel better, but you already knew Joshua wasn't the type to kiss and tell. Tell anyone other than Saerom, of course – but the two of you didn't speak much over the weekend so you felt a bit down in the dumps anyway. You didn't have dinner together or even go on a morning coffee run like you usually did – choosing to rot in your own rooms until hunger forced you out.

"He's Saerom's cousin, Channie." You pout, allowing him to tug you up off the wall and fling his arm over your shoulders. He sighs, resting his head against yours before he speaks. "Well, it can't get any worse than this, can it?"

– ☆ – 

You scribble a reminder on a sticky note to kill Lee Chan for his earlier words – it has gotten worse.

You had forced yourself to review the syllabus upon returning home, especially after your Organic Chemistry professor informed everyone twenty minutes before class started that it was canceled. You then forced yourself to type out a concise and polite email to Joshua Hong, and you forced yourself to press send. 

Ten minutes later, you forced yourself to read his reply.

And now, fifteen minutes after reading it, you were parked in the lot, your head resting against your steering wheel as you repeated some positive affirmations. "I can do this, I can do this. He's gonna be professional, I'm going to fix my hours, and I'll be on my way home."

Hopping out, you make sure to press your keyfob twice to hear it lock. Breathing in deeply, you made your way towards the hallway, seeing a few stragglers still on campus. It was nearly six in the evening, so they were probably also in office hours. Seeing the small office come into view, you stare at the names on the bronze plaques. Wow, you think. How important.

Kim Namjoon…WED. 3PM-7PM.

Jennie Kim…THURS. 4PM-8PM

Joshua Hong…MON/TUES/FRI. 2PM-6PM

Jeon Soyeon…MON-FRI. 10AM-1PM, OCHEM II ONLY.

Sighing, you grabbed the doorknob and twisted, pushing it open to reveal Joshua speaking on the phone. His eyes dart to you, a hand to his chest before gesturing to the table in the corner. You roll your eyes, before shutting the door and flipping the sign that reads In Session.

"Yes ma'am…mhm��I will get that done." Joshua is pinching the bridge of his nose, making you snort to yourself as you sink into the surprisingly comfortable chair in the corner of the room. You set your backpack on the floor, pulling your laptop out and a notepad. Clicking a pen, you fold your hands in your lap, waiting for him to finish.

"Yes, I will see you on Monday, Professor. Alright, take care." He hangs up, taking a moment to process. He blinks twice, before shaking it off and opening one of the drawers. "Good to see you, Miss Y/N. This is the review that you missed on Wednesday, and you missed an oral introduction on Friday." Standing, he holds up a packet. "This is just verb conjugation. I was originally going to use this for extra credit, but seeing as you got the highest grade out of anyone in the morning session, I think it's safe to say you probably won't need it." You're silent as he hands it to you.

"You will have to make up for lost time here, so you can stay for…an hour today, and then you can make up the other two on Friday." He's checking the calendar by the door, taking a pen from his pocket to write it in. "Sounds good?" You don't answer, just nodding your head. He raises his brow at you, "Cat got your tongue?" Grimacing, you glance up at him. "Sounds fine, sir." He smiles a bit, before clicking his tongue. "Actually, just take it. You can go, Miss Y/N." 

He walks to the desk, shutting his laptop. Confused, you look at him. "You want me to go?" "I don't want you to be anywhere you don't want to be, even if it's for your own benefit. You can leave." He nods, sliding his laptop into his bag, zipping it up and hiking it over his shoulder. "I have a prior commitment I can't miss, so consider this a favor." Snorting, you just shake your head as you put your things away. "I don't need any favors from you." You mutter to yourself, and Joshua smiles brightly as he holds the door open for you. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Miss Y/N. Have a good night." "You too." You grumble, pushing past him to see Jeonghan and Seungcheol leaning against the wall. Seungcheol is holding an extra cup in his hand, and Joshua just lets out a sigh before greeting them warmly. Unfortunately, they're walking in the same direction as you, so you reach into your hoodie pocket for your headphones – but not before you hear a low whistle. "She looks familiar."

You just shove your other hand in your pocket, wondering if they'll keep talking. Does the other one remember you? Do they know you slept with Joshua? Did he tell them? "It's funny to think you'd remember anyone, when you're one of the biggest whores on campus." One of them speaks, and you can hear Joshua laugh lightly. "She's my student, so shut up. Anyway, how'd things go with the new OChem professor? I heard he's a mess, canceling classes back to back." You decide to tune them out as you reach the end of the hallway, not wanting to entertain them as the parking lot comes into view. You can see from where you're standing that there is a ticket stuck under your windshield wiper, and you groan. "Son of a bitch."

Jogging over, you take it off and see that it's not actually a ticket, but a note from someone saying they hit your car. Gasping, you round your car and see a huge dent in your bumper, black paint scraped off and your tail light broken. "Motherfucker!" 

You can hear the trio of men getting closer, hearing the beep of the car next to yours as it unlocks. Scowling to yourself, you take your phone out to call your father. He should know what to do..right? His assistant picks up on the second ring. "Kang Enterprises, Gyuri speaking."

Sighing, you speak to her for a moment. She tells you he's in a meeting, and can't come to the phone at the moment. It's nearly seven at this point, what could he possibly have a meeting about? She says she doesn't know, but that your mother is also at the office and she's available. You reluctantly agree to speak to her, leaning your forehead against your rear windshield.

"Y/N? Why are you calling?" She sounds disinterested in whatever matters you may have, and you feel Jeonghan skirt past you as he rounds to the driver's side. "Sorry," He mumbles, and you scoff before moving out of the way. He grimaces before hopping in, and you can hear Joshua speaking to Seungcheol as he also rounds to the driver's side. 

"Hello, Mother. Someone hit the beamer–" You barely get the words out before she starts responding. Yelling, actually – and so loud you have to pull the phone away from your ear. Joshua is unfortunately hopping into the passenger seat, and he can see the look of defeat on your face. He gives you a sympathetic smile, and you frown before turning away.

You're still standing there as they pull out, but you've put her on speaker now. She's yelling about how irresponsible you are (and let's not forget you weren't the one who hit a car here) and that she can't believe you expect them to send you another. "I don't want another, I just want Daddy's advice on where to take it to get it fixed." "I don't care, Y/N. We'll get another one down there tomorrow. Just…be more responsible, will you?!" 

She hangs up, and you tongue your cheek so as to not cry in frustration. You don't want to drive the car home in this condition, you could get pulled over and then it's worse. Pulling up your messages, you scour who you could call. Chan is at a stupid pledge thing, you're not speaking to Saerom. Sighing, you quickly shoot Soonyoung a text, before calling the local towing company. They towed Chan's car last year when the two of you accidentally swerved into a fire hydrant trying to teach Nagyung how to drive.

Msg From: Soonyoung 🐯

[7:01PM] tf you mean someone hit ur car

[7:01PM] your PARKED car??? i'm literally in the shower, y/n

[7:03PM] ok uhh i think jun is on his way, if you wanna wait for him? if not i can finish up here in like 10 mins

Great.

Wednesday, September 7th.

"Shua." You hear Haerim speak from the front of the room. Your mother had angrily called you last night and said Gyuri would be dropping off your replacement vehicle today, so you were anything but focused until you heard the nickname slip from her lips.

"Haerim." He speaks, not taking his attention away from the corkboard he's putting up on the wall. It has Polaroids of all the students in your class and a few others you don't recognize. They probably took those on the days you weren't here.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you single? My friend drops me off on her way to French with Professor Bae and she thinks you're cute." Haerim is very casual with her conversation, making Joshua laugh lightly as he turns, holding a few thumbtacks between his fingers. "I am single, but I am unfortunately not on the market. Sorry to your friend, Haerim." She shakes her head, about to speak when you hear another person pipe up – Kim Myungjun, a guy you hooked up with at a sorority stoplight party your sophomore year. "How come? Did you get your heart broken or something?" Joshua smiles gently, sticking another Polaroid onto the board. He sighs, before turning back to face the room. "Something like that. I met a girl over the summer. Didn't end very well."

You can't believe your ears, and you can feel your eyes narrow as Chan shifts uncomfortably in his seat. You're willing to ignore it, until you hear Myungjun speak up. "Man, don't let that deter you from finding your soulmate! Love is everywhere, if we let one person dictate our confidence, we give their opinion value. I read that somewhere." Joshua nods, his smile never wavering, when he meets your eyes. His head tilts to the side, but he speaks while looking at you anyway. "I dunno, man. Something about that girl…she was different." Chan coughs awkwardly next to you, and you welcome the distraction as you tear your angry eyes away from Joshua's mischievous ones. You pat Chan's back, offering him a sip of your water bottle when Joshua returns to his conversation with Haerim (and apparently, Myungjun.) "Anyway…yeah. I'm alright for now." You spend the rest of the class with your face hidden behind your hair, studying the stupid Quizlet link Joshua had sent out last night. Professor Lee would finally be in this Friday, and she was expecting all A's across the board that day. You watch the clock on your phone, willing time to go faster with your mind.

The moment the clock strikes noon, you're out of your seat – only to hear Joshua call after you.

"Chan, Y/N, if the two of you could hang back for just a second." He says, as the students shuffle out. You glance at Chan, who has an unsettled look on his face. The two of you take the steps down quietly, waiting for everyone to file out when Joshua holds up the pink Instax camera. "You guys weren't here for class photos, so I just wanted to get those out of the way. Professor Lee uses them to remember names." Chan engages quickly, and you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

Msg From: Jang Gyuri (K. Ent.)

[12:05PM] Miss Y/N, I am outside with your new vehicle. It seems I am on the West Campus.

Shit.

The panicked look on your face doesn't go unnoticed by Chan, even as he's blinking away the effects of the camera flash. "Are you okay?" "Gyuri is here, and she has my keys." You respond, clicking away on your phone when Chan covers the screen, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "I'll get them for you! Please, please, please—" "You're only asking because you think she's pretty." You roll your eyes, and Chan flashes you a mischievous smile. "Correction, I think she's beautiful. C'mon, I literally do everything for you!" "Fine, fine. Only because you make me feel guilty." Chan beams at you as he hitches his bag over his shoulder, the both of you completely forgetting this meant you'd be alone with Joshua. He calls over his shoulder that he'll wait for you in your new car, making you snort.

"You can stand right here." Joshua points at the small piece of tape on the floor. You grimace, sliding your bag onto Professor Lee's desk and fixing your shirt. "Your necklace is twisted," He speaks again, and you feel around for it.

"Here…can I?" He sets the camera down, and you give him a rather sour look before agreeing. "Fine." "No need to act like this, Y/N." His breath is minty, and it's softly hitting your skin as he works the clasp to the back of your neck. Your grandmother gave you this necklace. He knows, you told him about it tipsy off a mango margarita.

"She got me this on my tenth birthday. I have never taken it off.""She believed in you.""What a shame, right?"

His fingers linger on the glittering pendant, before centering it on your blouse. "Ready?" "What did you mean by different?" You blurt, and his eyes widen as he reaches for the camera. "What?" "You said I…nevermind. Just take the picture, I have somewhere to be." You force a smile, and Joshua gives you a questioning look. He positions the camera, but sighs. "Too forced. Just relax, Y/N."

Huffing, you soften your face, letting your cheeks reach your eyes as you smile gently. "Much better." He whispers, taking the photo quickly. You blink a few times, before reaching for your bag. "And Y/N?" "What!?" You gripe, and he smiles. "Not everything is about you, pretty." Rolling your eyes at the slight lurch in your stomach. Pulling your bag over your shoulder, you stop as he huffs. "Wait, it came out wrong. Can you stand here again?"

He flicks the faulty picture onto the desk, and you quickly position yourself in front of him again. You clear your throat, smiling again as you move your hair to your face – when you see him smiling tenderly behind the camera. "Why are you looking at me like that?" "Hm?" He snaps the photo, taking it as it prints and covering it with his hand from the light. "Nothing, you look a lot nicer when you smile." You don't reply, waiting silently to see if the photo develops nicely. He doesn't speak either, before flipping the photo. You're smiling back at him, and he holds it up. "Satisfied?"

"Yeah, whatever." You shrug, and he nods. He hands you your bag, and gives you a warm look. "Have a good day, Y/N." You hesitate, but take your bag. "You too."

– ☆ – 

"Hey, Shua."

He looks up to see Saerom standing in the doorway of his bedroom, her arms crossed as she drags the tip of her shoe against the hardwood.

"Hey! What are you doing here? And if you say you're here to see any of these perverts, I'm going to escort you out myself." She just laughs, shaking her head as she enters his bedroom. It's a bit larger than the others, and she flops onto his bed. "Why did you tell me you slept with Y/N?" Joshua chokes on his spit, coughing harshly in his desk chair. Saerom looks slightly amused as he regains his composure. "Just right out with it, huh?" "Well, she's my best friend. I don't know how I didn't know you were in Mexico, too. I literally watch your Instagram stories." Saerom pouts, and Joshua laughs. "Maybe because I like to live in the moment? I don't document every part of my life, Rom." "I mean, yeah, but still. And how did you guys even have time to meet? I was with her all the time." Saerom wails, making Joshua just shake his head. "She did mention she was on vacation with her best friend. She never mentioned your name, and we also hung out mostly at night. I'm assuming if you guys didn't share a room, you wouldn't have been able to notice, anyway." "We never share a room when we go on vacation together. We like our privacy." She rolls her eyes, and Joshua smiles knowingly. "I know, I was there with Cheol and Han, and I practically begged the front desk to get me one of the beach villas. I did not want to share a room with them, or whatever girl they managed to tag team."

"As your cousin, this is a weird conversation to have. As Y/N's friend, I feel awkward. We fought a bit, and I can't really talk to her knowing that you guys…did it."

"You're so…Okay." He snorts at her theatrics, before opening his laptop. He sees the photo he took of you in the corner of it, your smiling face peeking out at him. He shuts it quickly, having forgotten he took it with him. The photo developed after you left, so it's not like he lied.

"Anyway, she's such a cold person normally. It's hard to get in there." Saerom sighs, and he feels a pang in his chest. You'd opened up very quickly with him, but Saerom didn't know that – nor did she need to. "I guess it works, though, she can be personable when she wants to. Can't believe she wants to own that big ass company her father has. I'd cry myself to sleep if I had that much pressure on my shoulders." You're living such a double life and your best friend doesn't even know it. How can you hide those things from her? Do you fear being judged, or being seen as less than? Someone who can't handle the pressure of being the golden child, someone who can't hold a candle to her parents? Someone who disappoints.

"Yeah, me too."

Saerom keeps talking about you, but he can barely hear her. His phone is open in his lap, and he's staring at the message thread with your burner number.

Msg To: Y/N (PV)

[06/29] hey, this is joshua. [06/29] you left your number at my table.

Msg From: Y/N (PV)

[06/29] hi handsome ;) [06/29] are you free tonight?

He had been free.

He remembers the stupid white dress you wore when you met him at the salsa club. He remembers the confidence radiating off you when you asked the bartender for your drink. You made it evident you didn't need him, that you weren't looking for anything serious – but you slowly dropped the act. You let him in just a bit, you danced with him and you let him walk you down the beach to your hotel room.

You were the one who asked to sit on one of the hammocks on the beach. You were the one who asked him about himself, wondering what his own life was like. You encouraged him to dig deep and tell you his darkest secrets, assuring him you'd share your own as well.

Your life was much more intense than his. He was studying music, he was living it, breathing it, enjoying it. He wanted that, more than anything, and nothing was going to get in his way. But you…you wanted so much more than what you were told you could have.

You wanted to be more than your parents. You wanted to explore, you wanted to live. He remembers how sweet you were when he told you his dreams. how gentle you were when you voiced your opinion on them. He appreciated your honesty and your kindness, and he enjoyed your presence.  You…were more than just the intimacy. More than just the makeout sessions you initiated, including that night in the hammock. More than the way you made him chase you just enough. About as much as one can for a vacation fling, anyway.

"...And she makes the best bolognese, Shua. You'd love it." Saerom sighs, making him nod quickly. "I'm sure." "Anyway, I gotta go. I was supposed to pick up dinner, so I can extend the olive branch." She chuckles, getting off the bed. "I'll see you around, Shua." "Bye, Rom. Be safe, let me know when you get home." "Will do." Saerom exits his room, closing the door behind her. He opens his laptop, fishing the photo of you out of the corner and shoving it into his wallet. He should feel weird about keeping it, but that means a perfectly good photo is going to waste! It'll be safe in his wallet.

Unlocking his laptop, he sighs as he sees his email pinging him.

From: YNKANG@SNU.EDU

Subject: Office Hours

Sent: 10:32PM

Hello. I hope this email finds you well.

I am not able to attend Friday's office hours. I will also not be able to attend office hours next week, as I have prior commitments I must tend to. I know it is rather unorthodox, but would you be available tomorrow? I do not have classes after 1PM and I frankly don't need a language class to tarnish my perfect record.

Let me know if this works for you. Thanks.

Best,

Kang Y/N

010-1230-1995

Thursday, September 8th.

From: JHONG@SNU.EDU

RE:Subject: Office Hours

Sent: 11:21PM

Thank you for reaching out. I understand prior commitments can make attending office hours difficult. 

I am not able to promise availability for Thursday. Jennie Kim has the office, she is the TA for Professor Lee Chaerin in French II. This being said, I can accommodate in two ways.

I can give you an assignment to be turned in on Friday. You will have to come by the classroom to retrieve it. Or, you can get a study room in the library and I can offer two hours of my time for your use. Please email me back before 10AM if the latter is your choice.

Best,

Joshua Hong

010-9999-8212

Bad idea, Y/N.

Very, very bad idea.

You should have gone to pick up the stupid assignment. You should have picked up the stupid, fat packet he was going to torture you with to make you regret being a douche to him despite basically making the guy fall in love with you over the summer.

Instead, you suffer here. You suffer inside these four walls, with a freshly showered Joshua Hong standing in the doorway, his friends bidding him goodbye. Jeonghan and Seungcheol peer in, their eyes twinkling with something devious – making Joshua roll his eyes as he shut the door with his foot.

"Sorry about that, they're nosey." He's holding a basketball under his arm, backpack hiked over his shoulder as he walks around the room to settle at the table.You haven't spoken yet, just eyeing him down. "Your hair is wet." "Damp, not wet." He corrects you, opening his bag for his sweatshirt. "It's freezing in here, Jesus Christ." "Maybe wear a proper shirt next time." You roll your eyes, opening your laptop to see the digitals you had developed from your vacation. Saerom took a lot of them – you drinking out of a fresh coconut, you wearing a pretty pink dress to the beach, you in a new swimsuit you bought specifically for the trip. There were photos of the two of you together – one a little girl took of you having a picnic on the beach, another of the two of you getting matching tattoos on your ankles.

And one you took of Joshua.

You were sitting on him, right after the two of you woke up in your hotel room. The photo was taken from an odd over-head angle, but his smile was wide and so natural. You were making him laugh, you remember.

"Come on, just one picture!"

"You literally just pinched my leg to wake me up, give me a second!""God forbid a girl wants to wake you up. Come on, I leave in two days!"

You'd lied, you left that night. You dumped your burner in the airport trashcan, not bothering to read the few texts he'd sent you only moments earlier to your arrival there. They were gone forever – and you hadn't felt guilty then, not really. You knew you'd miss him a bit, you knew yourself that much.

You wouldn't have missed him at all if you knew that you'd see him again…for sixteen consecutive weeks. And possibly for the rest of your time on this campus. And possibly, the rest of your life, since you were best friends with Saerom.

The pictures haunt you a bit, you notice.

You're staring at them in silence, feeling a bit of anxiety crawl up your throat when you hear Joshua clear his own. "I brought a few assignments, in case you don't want to do…this." He gestures to the room, and you just shake your head.

"Paying for the class, I might as well try and get along with you." You mutter, clicking your tongue when the photo of Joshua comes back into circulation. "I'm going to the vending machine, do you want anything?" You abruptly get up, grabbing your wallet out of your bag and stalking to the door. He looks up at you, a soft look in his eyes as he shakes his head. "I'm okay." Nodding, you retreat to the vending machine down the hall. You're staring at the ground as you walk, fully expecting to have an uneventful trip not even ten feet away.

However, it seems that even that can't go right for you.

"Hey. You're Y/N, right?" Your head snaps up, seeing Seungcheol and Jeonghan at the vending machine. Your eye twitches a bit, and you clear your throat before nodding. "And you are?" Jeonghan gives you a knowing look, but entertains you. "I'm Jeonghan. This is Seungcheol." With pursed lips, you nod. "Uh, nice to meet you. You guys are in…Beta Tau, right? My friend is rushing it." You stand awkwardly, and Jeonghan gives you a slight smirk. "Yeah? Good luck to your friend, Y/N.' "Yah, don't be like that. Did you want the vending machine? We're still deciding." Seungcheol tugs Jeonghan back a bit, and you quickly feed in your change, pressing the buttons to get what you want. In your frenzy, you get two bottles of jasmine tea.

"Say, Y/N. How was your summer?" Jeonghan asks gently, and you feel your shoulders tense before you glance over with a scowl. "Is it really on your mind that much? I fucked your friend, so what?" "Wow, no need to get so feisty! Kitty has claws." He smiles, elbowing Seungcheol, who just pinches the bridge of his nose. "Whatever, man. God forbid a girl has fun on her summer vacation." You turn on your heel, walking back down the corridor and hearing Seungcheol scold Jeonghan behind you. You nearly rip the handle off the door of the study room, seeing Joshua standing in front of the whiteboard with a textbook draped open in his hand. He looks back to see your furrowed brows, and the two teas in your hand.

"Are you alright?" "Did you have to tell all your friends that we slept together? Because I didn't tell anyone. I didn't even tell my best friend, you told her. I'd appreciate if you would stop ruining my fucking reputation." You slam the bottles on the table, and Joshua gives you a surprised look. "What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?" "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Joshua. Your stupid friend just cornered me at the vending machine, asking me all these stupid questions like he knows something about me. Newsflash! He doesn't, and neither do you!" You sit with a huff, and Joshua's ears are slightly red as he tongues his cheek. He glances down at the textbook in his hand, closing it and sliding it onto the table. You don't bother looking up at him, hearing the jingling of the door before he speaks. "Excuse me."

The door shuts behind him, and you look up to see that he didn't take any of his things. Meaning that he'd be back, after doing God knows what, and you'd have to deal with it. Sighing to yourself, you rub your temples, wondering how things got like this.

The semester just started. You didn't have time for this.

Silently, you begin to pack up your things. Your laptop goes in the designated slot, your extra tea gets packed snugly into the front pocket. You click your tongue, about to get up when the door opens and Joshua emerges with Jeonghan in tow, looking like a kicked puppy.

Your brows nearly reach your hairline as Jeonghan shuffles forward. Joshua gives him a hard look. "Apologize."

Sucking his teeth, Jeonghan gives you a once over before speaking quietly. "I'm sorry that my assumptions and behavior made you uncomfortable, and it won't happen again." The hand gripping your backpack loosens a bit, and Seungcheol pops up from behind Joshua with a sheepish look on his face. "I'm also sorry, Y/N. I know this is an odd situation for the two of you, and our instigation doesn't make it any better." Your jaw is a bit slack, and Jeonghan looks at Joshua. "Can I go now?" "Did you hear her accept your apology?" He asks, and Jeonghan sighs. "I guess not." Blinking, you just give Jeonghan a thumbs up. "You're…you're good, yeah. Uh, don't worry about it. You either, Seungcheol." You look over Joshua's shoulder to the older man, who smiles in response.

"We'll get going, then. We've got a party to plan." Seungcheol says warmly,  and Jeonghan turns on his heel to exit the room. "I don't want to hear this shit from you guys again." Joshua mutters, all but slamming the door after them.

"You didn't have to do that." You mumble, and he looks at you with a scoff.

"Yes, I did. Whether we slept together or not is none of their business, and the only reason they know is because they were there. I don't need that being spread around campus or them being douchebags to you." He grabs the textbook again, uncapping the dry-erase marker before glancing at you. "Sit down, you've got me for two hours." You don't like the slight flutter in your stomach, or that your body involuntarily does as he says. You silently unpack your bag again, and he finishes writing example problems on the whiteboard. Feeling your stomach a bit uneasy, you uncap the tea to take a sip.

"Conjugation is very important. When I was grading your quiz, I noticed that was your biggest problem. I don't know how you got a B, really, when most of that quiz was conjugations, but I digress. Can you do these for me?" He holds out the marker, an expectant look in his eyes.

"Sure."

Friday, September 16th.

It'd been a little more than a week since you met with Joshua in the library.

And since the two of you officially acknowledged that you'd slept together. What you didn't know was, while he was having his own feelings about the history that weighed the two of you down, he wasn't going to force you to return his affections. In fact…he even felt a bit silly, liking you so much off of three weeks of getting the full experience of…well, you.

Better yet, he wasn't even going to tell you there are any residual feelings on his end. If he knew anything, it was you and your type. If he came off too strong – flowers, a date, chocolates and the like, he'd scare you off even more. You were skittish, like a deer, and he had to either slowly gain your trust…

Or irritate the living hell out of you every chance he got.

Subtle flirting, double entendres, maybe the occasional lingering look. He knew that if he wanted a chance, and man did he want it – he was going to have to work for it. No problem, though. You were definitely worth the wait.

"So, as you can see, the proper conjugation is hablar, not hablando." His laser pointer is steady at the bottom of the projector screen, and he looks up to see half of the class staring intently and the other half jotting down notes. You were neither of the two – your head was resting on Chan's shoulder, eyes low. He cleared his throat, your head jumping up and a wince crossing your features.

Joshua knew Chan was really no threat. The fraternity really liked him, and he was set to move in this weekend. According to Chan's Instagram story, you'd been at his dorm the night before helping him pack up. Saerom had also been there, and Soonyoung – another Beta Tau member. You had been holding a can of Red Bull and in one of the following videos, you were shotgunning another.

"Any questions?" He calls out, and Haerim shoots her hand up. "Yes, Haerim?" "Since this is a conversational class, how would we ask someone out? Or, for their number?"

The classroom fills with childish snickering, and Joshua just smiles as he shakes his head. "Well, I-" "I don't think this is an appropriate question, to be honest." Your voice is heard from the back of the classroom, and Haerim turns in her chair, a wicked smile crossing her lips as Joshua rounds the desk, perched on the edge of it. "And why not, Y/N?" She asks, and Joshua can see you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

"This is Beginner Spanish Conversation, not Coffee Meets Bagel. Flirt on your own time, at your own pace." You scoff, and Haerim's smile only grows wider. It's like she knows something about you, and Joshua notices you begin to bristle slightly. "Why are you so uptight about it, Y/N? It's just a question." "I'm paying for this class, as is everyone else. I think I'd like to appreciate my money's worth by learning something I'll actually use." "Alright, ladies. Honestly, Miss Y/N is partially correct. This is not Café y Rosquilla, but I do think that this is…a learning moment. Asking someone out does involve conversation, you know." Joshua attempts to diffuse, but he can see your subtle annoyance at his siding with Haerim. "So, for example, if I wanted to ask out…" He looks around the room, before a flash of diablerie crosses his eyes. "If I wanted to ask out Miss Y/N, I'd have to make conversation. I'd say…eres muy bonita." "Yeah?! What else?!" You hear Myungjun shout from the far left side of the room, and you can feel Chan's knee bumping yours. You scowl at him, earning a smile as he hides in his hoodie. "I'd say…" Joshua scans your face, and he knows you're probably embarrassed. Embarrassed, but enjoying his subtle attention. He pushes off the desk, pacing in front of the students. "Hm, I'd probably say I like her dress, or me gusta tu vestido."

He watches you cross your legs, tucking the extra fabric of your black dress under your thighs. "Okay, but how do you ask her out!?" Haerim interrupts excitedly, and Joshua is on the first step of the stairs before he catches your eyes again.

"You don't just ask someone out flat out like that. You build repertoire, you make conversation." He rolls his eyes playfully, and you think you're about to get off without any further embarrassment when you hear Chan speak up next to you. "How much repertoire can you even build at this point? Psychology says it only takes two minutes to decide if you like someone." Joshua sees you gape at Chan, before pinching his bicep. Chan pouts in your direction, rubbing his arm as Joshua holds back a laugh. "Psychology also says that there are five components to figuring out if we will have a crush on someone. Physical attraction, proximity, similarity, reciprocity and familiarity. Miss Y/N is very pretty, so physical attraction is checked off. Proximity is also checked, as we see each other three times a week for this class." "What about similarity?" Myungjun pipes up again, making you sink lower in your seat. Joshua is enjoying making you squirm a bit, and he steps up a few more. "Hm, I think that's something I'd have to figure out. Tell me, Miss Y/N, do you enjoy…long walks on the beach?" Your eyes are full of fire, and you'd be almost scary if he didn't notice the way your lip wanted to twitch into a smile. Haerim shouts for you to answer the question, making you send her a scornful look – and she just sticks her tongue out at you like a child. "I do…enjoy long walks on the beach."

"What a coincidence, so do I! Now, we have a similarity. Miss Y/N is familiar, because again, I do see her quite often. Now, it's about reciprocation. This is when you ask the question, this is when you try and make a move." "Shua, how do we make the move!?" Chan asks, and you kick his shin, about to tell him to shut up when Joshua finally reaches your row. He's looking you dead in the eyes, his hand gently wrapping around the edge of your desk. He leans forward, and you can hear the stupid woo-ing of your classmates. "Señorita Y/N, ¿le gustaría salir conmigo?"

Somehow, this all feels like some stupid romcom for the both of you. The class is egging you both on, and Chan is next to you with the most idiotic smile you'd ever seen. You huff, the class is now chanting for you to agree to said…"fake" date.

"No." You say quietly, and Joshua feigns pain. He holds his hand to his heart, a pained expression on his face. "You wound me, Miss Y/N."

He turns to the class, all of which are giving you the dirtiest look ever. "Now, now. This was just an example, don't look at her like that." He scolds, and the class turns back to face the front as he barrels down the steps, checking his watch. 

"Shit, it's already ten past noon. You guys are free to go, and if any of you are taking Psych with Professor Seo Jungkwon, tell him I fulfilled his lecture for the day." This earns a laugh from the class, except you. You're angrily stuffing your laptop into your bag, the class eagerly exiting the room. Chan is holding your arm, apologizing most likely, but you don't seem like you want to hear any of it. By this point, Chan looks a bit like a kicked puppy as he quickly takes the steps down, with you following slowly behind him.

Chan is out the door by the time you make it to the last step, and the classroom is empty.

You arms are crossed as you approach the desk, where Joshua is quietly shutting down the projector. His eyes don't meet yours as he disconnects the machine from the wall, winding the cord up to tie together. "Y/N." He calls gently, and you huff angrily. He bites back a smile.

"Why do you insist on embarrassing me? The first week, it was you running your mouth to my best friend. Last week, you practically held Jeonghan at gunpoint to apologize to me. Today, it's putting me on blast in front of an entire classroom with people I will continue to see for the rest of the year."

"Oh? Was it embarrassing?" He's nonchalant as he looks up, tucking the wrapped cables behind the projector. Your eyes are narrowed, and it seems you've caught onto his little game. "Do you get off on this or something? Knowing you fucked one of your students?" "Hm, not necessarily. And none of what was done was done to embarrass you, per say. It's just decent honesty, and we both know you deserved an apology for Jeonghan's behavior." He states matter-of-factly, making you purse your lips. "What about your behavior? You asked me out in front of all these people!" You gesture to the empty room, and Joshua gives you a small smile. "And you rejected me in front of all of those people. The way I see it, it's a teaching moment."

He's on the same side of the desk as you now, resting against it as you complain. HIs smile seems to be getting under your skin, because you grab his shirt by the collar, pulling his face close to yours before you speak through gritted teeth. "Use someone else as your stupid guinea pig. I don't want to be with you, Hong." You're holding him so close, your lips just barely brushing his. He can't help but scan your face quickly, his hand reaching to brush a stray curl off your face. Your eyes follow his fingers, feeling them tuck the hair behind your ear before he swallows carefully. You can feel your stomach flip slightly as his hand drops, ghosting over your hip as he pushes off the desk, making you slightly stumble back. His fingers grab you gently, pulling you flush to him before his nose is touching yours. "Tell me you don't want me," He whispers, his breath hitting your lips making your lashes flutter closed as you press your lips to his. A whimper escapes his throat as he kisses you back, his grip tightening as your hand lets go of his shirt, your palm resting against his stomach as your other hand holds his waist. The kiss is slow but desperate, your tongue licking into his mouth in the way that drove him crazy over the summer. 

He can't help himself, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, moving his lips down your jaw and exposed neck. A sharp inhale from you as he reaches one of the many sweet spots he'd discovered, a soft whine sounding in his ears making him feel dizzy as he nips at your skin. Pulling back, he holds your face close to his as he speaks again. "Tell me you don't want me, and we can stop this right now. I'll be nothing but professional for the rest of the semester."

He can tell that wasn't what you were expecting. Your eyes are wide and full of mixed emotions, but overall, they flash with a bit of fear. "I…" Your hands move to rest on his hips, a frown on your lips as you let go, and he does the same. His arms cross with an expectant look on his face, and you grimace.

"Stop embarrassing me in front of people, and if you don't have a good reason to talk to me or be near me, don't engage at all." 

He gives you a nod, his smile reappearing as he reaches to wipe your lip gloss from his lips. "That being said, I'm guessing you will not be attending office hours tonight?" Huffing, you look away. "No. I have to help Chan move into the frat house with you and your hooligan friends."

"So I'll see you tonight anyway." He speaks with a grin, and you tongue your cheek. "Leave me alone, Joshua."

You spin on your heel, but his arm is on your elbow before you can walk away. He pulls you back, pulling you into a hug, pressing his lips to your hairline as you hesitantly wrap your arms around him. He speaks against your hair, "One more. For the road."

"Joshua." You groan, trying to hide the giddy feeling spreading in your stomach. He smiles at you, planting a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Just one, and I'll let you slam out of here like we were arguing."

You roll your eyes, but let him slot his lips with yours, the minty taste of him still lingering from the previous kiss. This one is much gentler, the warmth of his body against yours comforting as he pulls away with a chaste kiss. And another. And another.

"You said one." You grumble, swatting at his side to make him let you go. He smiles, his thumb coming to wipe at your lips. Your lipgloss is gone entirely, just glitter remaining. "Mmh. I'll see you later." "Whatever." You pull away from him, and he watches as you slam your way out of the classroom, a few students from your class still lingering in the hallway catching his eye. They look questioning, but he just shrugs as the door closes. He sighs as he looks around the empty lecture hall, a glimmer on the third step up calling his eyes. 

Making his way towards the steps, he sees the gold plating of a seven-pointed star, a message engraved in the back. 

For my brightest star, Y/N.

Picking it up, the diamonds mock him.

He feels slightly stupid to think this is fate, while knowing that once you realize it's gone, you'll be panicking. It seems nothing is really going right for you these days – your car being hit, fighting with Saerom, not being able to stand your ground against him…and now your necklace is 'gone'. He wants to be selfish and say it's because you're being a bit of a jerk to him.

So he'll believe that.

– ☆ –

"Chan! It's not here!"

Your hands feel disgustingly dry, having practically ripped apart every cardboard box you helped him pack. You'd managed to haul everything from his dorm to the fraternity house a few blocks down, having begged Saerom and Soonyoung to help you steal a flatbed from the construction majors. The three of you were helping Chan unpack a box of his underwear when you swiped your hair back from your neck, not feeling the chain of your necklace on your skin.

The four of you had stopped unpacking the moment you started panickedly patting yourself all over, and even standing up to shake off your shirt and hair. Now surrounded by a few of Chan's blankets, you were doing all but ripping up the carpet in the bedroom to find your cherished gift.

"It's not in the hallway! Going downstairs!" You hear Saerom call, and Chan is emerging from the bathroom with his flashlight on. "I swear you had it on when we fought earlier."

"Fuck, what if it fell off there?" You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to remember if you felt anything off after leaving the room. People stared at you as you barreled out of the language hall, you kissed Joshua…

You kissed Joshua.

"I'm pretty sure I had it on when I left! Remember, I even changed clothes when I got home so I wouldn't dirty my dress helping you move. I swear I felt it!"

At this point, you're shaking your hair out once more and Chan is throwing ripped cardboard into the hallway, hitting a passing Joshua. "Ouch!"

"Shit, sorry!" Chan winces, and Joshua scours the room, before his eyes land on you. Your hand is gently patting at your chest, where your necklace would usually sit as you shake out your sweater. He gives Chan a look, making him look back at you. Joshua glances at the cardboard boxes on the floor, and Chan gets the hint.

He clears his throat, garnering your anxious attention, "I'm going to take these down to recycling, and I'll check outside, okay? Just keep looking in here, it's gotta be somewhere."

Your eyes are slightly wild, and you just nod as you begin to shake Chan's blankets. A pair of underwear falls out, making you huff as Chan exits his room. Joshua leans on the doorframe, watching as you move around calculatedly. "What's got you so frantic?" You look over your shoulder, now squatted over a pile of shirts. "Why is it any of your business?"

He sucks his teeth, hands resting in his hoodie pocket. "Maybe I can help you? Ever think that I'm not out to get you like some sort of Boogeyman?" Your shoulders sag in defeat, and you just beckon him into the room. "Shut the door." You mutter, and he does just that before squatting in front of you, his ringed fingers splayed across the shirts in your hands. 

"Shake these off." 

"For?" He asks, but takes the first one and does as you ask. You feel a tear threaten to escape, but blink rapidly as he takes the next shirt. "Just do it." He does, but by the fifth shirt, he looks up at you. "You know…if you tell me what you're looking for, I may be able to help further." He says it like he knows something, and you just roll your eyes as you move onto the stack of Chan's sweatpants. "I lost my necklace, okay? I can't find it."

Stopping his movements, he smiles at you. "Hm, any idea where?" "No." You sigh, shaking off another pair of pants. A dollar bill floats out of the pocket, but neither of you bother to touch it as it floats down to the carpet. "I think you're wasting your time looking in here, actually." You look at Joshua, who is now moving to stand up. Scanning his face, your eyes narrow. "Where is it?" Stretching, he extends a hand to help you up. You scowl, getting up on your own as he shrugs. "Come on." He walks towards the door, flinging it open as two of the members run past with a basket full of eggs. "You better not be throwing those in here!" He barks, and their giggles only get louder as they barrel down the stairs.

He leads you to his bedroom, leaving the door ajar for you to close as you enter. 

Your eyes scan the bedroom – it's very…serene. It's bigger than Chan's, and the bed is right under the window. There is sheet music pinned up to a corkboard above his desk, a few guitars propped up against the wall. His walls are covered in photos of him and his friends, and you spot one of him and Saerom as kids pinned higher on the wall than the rest. There is a small bookshelf, with a Bible and a few candles on top of it.

You're standing at the foot of this bed when you feel his hands on your neck, making you jump slightly. "Relax." He murmurs, the cool metal of your necklace making you shiver slightly.

"I found it on the steps in the classroom. Your clasp broke, so I took it to my friend in town. She's a jeweler, and she fixed it. I have the original clasp, in case you wanted to keep it." He holds up a plastic baggie, no bigger than the palm of his hand. You turn to look at him, your hand ghosting around for the star that hands in the middle of your chest.

"I should have texted, or emailed, at the very least. I just figured, I'd see you anyway—" "Thank you." You interrupt, your arms instinctively enveloping him into an embrace. You squeeze slightly, his own hands hovering over your back before touching you gently. "You're welcome." Without moving away, you speak into his sweater. "I'm sorry I've been such a douche to you lately."

He laughs a bit, his chest moving against your cheek. "Yeah…you have been. I'll send your parents an invoice for emotional damage." His fingers are rubbing circles in your back, and you hate that he knows you joke about your parents' emotional unavailability. Biting back a laugh, you push off him. Your hands linger at his sides, and he tilts his head.

"I meant what I said, you know." He states, and you glance up at him with a quizzical look on your face. "What?"

"That if you don't want to do…whatever this is, I'll leave you alone. I'll be professional for the rest of the semester." He gestures between the two of you. You don't look as taken aback as you did in the classroom, but a scoff does escape your lips as your arms fold across your chest. 

"Okay? What does that have to do with now?" He steps a bit closer, making the back of your knees hit his bed. You sit out of instinct, watching as he runs his hand through his hair. He's so handsome.

"It has everything to do with you, and your general existence. Your best friend is my cousin. You're friends with Soonyoung, Jun and Chan, and they're all members of my fraternity. You're a student in a class I assist, we're going to be around each other no matter our feelings about each other." He's not really giving you an out of this conversation.

"I know you don't like that I told Saerom about what happened between us during the summer, and I want to apologize for telling her in the first place. It just slipped out, and I am sorry." He speaks sincerely, and you blink up at him before scooting slightly back on his bed, crossing your legs. He takes this as a sign to continue.

"I also want to say that what happened between us doesn't have to mean anything to you, at all." He shifts uncomfortably, making your eyes narrow. "I know it was just a fling, and I'm probably just confused about my feelings." 

You hate the way tears prick at your eyes, before he spins his desk chair out, sitting down and leaning forward.

"I wanted to ask if you want to be transferred out. I have the transfer form ready, there is a spot in Professor Yoon Mirae's class. She said she'd gladly take you if that was the case." Your head snaps up at this, his eyes boring a hole into the pictures on the wall. "You…want to transfer me out?"

He stares at his fingers, toying with one of his rings as he replies. "I think it would be best for you. It only meets twice a week, and you'd probably get along better with Somin." He looks up at you, and you don't know what expression is on your face for him to immediately soften. "You don't want to?" "I think you…" You swallow thickly, scooting towards the edge of his bed, moving to stand up. "I think we need to forget that anything even happened between us." You whisper, and you can see hurt lace his eyes before he clears his throat, looking away from you as he nods. "Right." "I don't want to hurt you, Joshua." You fake confidence, noting the way he blinks rapidly, before standing up. "You're not hurting me, Y/N. We fucked over the summer. It's not like we dated."

You wince at his use of words. "Yeah, but–" HIs hand pushes the baggie with your clasp in it into your hand, "Don't worry about it, Y/N. I'll see you in class on Monday." Your fingers instinctively close around his, moving to squeeze his hand before he pulls it away. You stare up at him, feeling your face slightly burn in humiliation. You know that he's sensitive, and that the kiss earlier today probably meant a lot to him. Why is he acting like this? Like you didn't open up to him and tell him everything you couldn't even tell your best friend, like you didn't sleep with him for three weeks straight before leaving Puerto Vallarta.

You remember Chan's words…something something forming a crush in two minutes. 

What can happen in three weeks?

"Was that all it was for you?" You ask gently, watching as he turns away from you. "I really don't want to have this conversation right now." He mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose and walking towards the door. He tugs his hoodie off, the white muscle tank showing off his broad shoulders. Shoulders you dug your nails into that summer, and you can see the remaining faint lines from you trailing down his back. 

"Was it just sex?" You ask again, and he sighs. "No. It wasn't."

He hangs the hoodie up on the hook behind the door, and you take a step to him. "Then why are you acting like this?" He turns to look at you, eyes wide with incredulity. "Me?! Why are you acting like this? For almost a month you couldn't keep your hands off me, you couldn't stop talking about hating your life here, and suddenly, through whatever force of the universe, we're both stuck in this life that you dread. Excuse me if my best effort isn't enough for you." Eyes narrowed, you can feel your stomach bubble with a bit of anger. "There's no way you're the same guy I fucked for three weeks, Joshua. We were on vacation in a foreign country. I was telling you everything about me because I wasn't worried about ever seeing you again." "No, you did that because you're a liar." He mutters, making you suddenly feel a lot smaller than usual. "I am the exact same person I was then, Y/N! I'm not like you, I can't just flip-flop between two personalities. I can't lie to everyone that I care about just because I'm too afraid to stand up to my parents. You're doing yourself a disservice." 

He's breathing heavily, and you can feel the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Your pride is stronger, though, and you let out a humorless laugh. "I'll see you on Monday."

You shove past him, throwing his door open and slipping out before you slam it with all your might. You see Jeonghan carrying a basket with Chan's name on it down the hall, his eyes wide as you storm past him.

"Are you o-" "Fuck off." You spit, not bothering to swing back into Chan's room for your stuff. Saerom could bring it home, or leave it there, you don't really care. All you really know is that this place has got to be the most suffocating you've ever felt.

Wednesday, October 12th.

It'd been almost a month since you'd last spoken to Joshua.

You weren't in class the following Monday, having instead driven out to one of your mother's properties. You stayed the weekend there, and only drove back in the middle of the night on Tuesday. Professor Lee emailed you, and so did Joshua – though his was very much a copy-paste email. You didn't seek him out, you didn't speak to him. He didn't even attempt to make eye contact, almost always being the first to exit the classroom. You didn't even really talk to Chan or Saerom since you'd helped him move into the frat house, and you could tell they were growing worried about you.

Especially Saerom, as she heard Wherever You Will Go by The Calling play through your speakers almost everyday since. You played this song the first time the two of you went on vacation together, you were nineteen and your grandmother had just passed away that past November.

You didn't have time to worry about their feelings, though, as you parked your car in the lot, Chan silently unbuckled his seatbelt. It was nine-forty-six in the morning, and the two of you sighed simultaneously. "Want to take the long way? We've got fifteen minutes." You check your watch, and Chan gives you a slight nod. "Sure." The long way was walking around the language building into the technology hall – and Chan decided now would be a good time to update you on how Jeonghan and Seungcheol had an ongoing prank war with Mingyu and Wonwoo. It apparently wasn't going to end this weekend, and the reason? Beta Tau Omega was notorious for holding the best Halloween ragers. They held the largest one every year, with the other frats on campus stumbling to be pre-game parties and sororities simply giving up and going to the parties instead of hosting. The problem here was sourcing – Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua planned the party every year, including the random Jell-O wrestling and drinking contests. The liquor was never-ending, and the clean-up after was a mess (and at the hands of the newest members.)

This year, Mingyu insisted that he and Wonwoo could plan an even better party than the trio – hence, facing the wrath of practical jokesters Seungcheol and Jeonghan. Joshua insisted he wasn't involved in this, and would help either duo with the planning if necessary.  

"Are you even listening?" You hear Chan snap his fingers in your face, and you blink at him. "Yeah, sorry. Planning?" He begins to speak again, allowing you to loop your arm with his and rest your head on his shoulder when you look up – and see Joshua leaning against the wall, twirling a strand of Baek Hyejin's hair. She was the Organic Chemistry TA, you got your labs graded by her. She was always very sweet.

You can feel eyes on you as you and Chan walk in lockstep down the stairs, and you see Joshua staring at you as Hyejin speaks to him. Nodding along as if he's listening, as if he cares. You scoff inwardly, shaking your head as you force your eyes forward, ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach.

It doesn't even matter. You don't like Joshua, and you wouldn't date him, either. You had too much to lose.

Seeing as you drove down to one of the properties, you met with your mother, as well. Your Saturday was spent in your mother's office, designing a new building with her to place on one of her newest properties down south. "You're going to manage this one first. The other tenants don't know you yet, and you'll have to ease into getting them to like you."Your father wasn't around the entire weekend. Your mother sighed repeatedly over dinner, before ultimately abandoning her plate at the table and whisking herself away with a bottle of Merlot. You didn't ask many questions, but you do remember walking by her study before going to the guest bedroom and hearing her on the phone, presumably with her sister.

"I wonder when she's going to get married. He can't be some random guy…do you still keep in touch with the Mins? Maybe Yoongi is willing this time." You hadn't even graduated yet, and she was already trying to pawn you off. Your father had stated strictly that he didn't want you to marry until you were firmly situated within the companies he owned, and your mother constantly bickered against it. No one ever asked you what you wanted.

Not that it mattered, anyway.

"...And so, Mingyu had to wash flour out of all his bedsheets. I think we'll have to get a new washing machine." Chan sighs as the two of you turn into the language hall, and you grimace. "You probably will, that shit sticks like glue." "Yum, gluten patterns." Chan laughs as you shiver, walking into the classroom. Somehow, Joshua is already there, making your grip on Chan's arm tighten a bit. He gives you a concerned look, but allows you to pull him slightly closer to you as you climb the steps to your regular seats in the corner.

"Good morning, everyone!" Joshua calls with a smile, and you hear the majority return the greeting as you and Chan situate yourselves. Crossing your legs, you face forward to see Joshua holding up a three-page packet. "There is a quiz!" A collective groan echoes the room, and Joshua gives a sorry grin. "I know, I know. However, it is an open-note quiz! Feel free to use your notes, and there is no time limit, even if you go over the noon end of the class. Take your time, and you can leave right after you're done." The class just fills with murmurs as everyone begins fishing through their bags for their notebooks, but you made no effort to do so as Joshua began walking around to distribute the papers. He hands two to Chan, who passes you yours and you notice the way Joshua's eyes linger to Chan's jacket on your shoulders before going back down the steps.

"I'll be grading these tests over the next two days, and I'll submit your grades by Thursday night. That way, we can review on Friday and you can attend office hours later that day if you're not satisfied with your grade or just feel like you need a little more help. Sounds good?" He asks, and earns a resounding yes from the class.

Time seems to be dragging on as you carefully read and re-read every question, hoping that your lack of notes won't fuck you over. You remember Chan giving you shit last week for only taking notes on your laptop – and you probably should have listened to him when he told you. Why? Because now you're without notes and you're possibly a little more than screwed, you've only been studying for your other classes.

Your 'how hard can it be?' mindset was now biting you in the ass.

You glanced up to the clock, seeing that there was fifteen minutes to noon – and three students remained aside from you and Chan. Clearing his throat, Chan inched his notes closer to the edge of his desk, making you kick his foot to move them back. He huffed, closing the notebook and standing. He tucks it into his backpack before hiking it over his shoulder, whispering that he'd meet you at the cafe as you'd planned last night. You nod, blowing him a joking kiss before hearing Joshua clear his throat.

The two of you look up, seeing the assistant with a raised brow, beckoning Chan towards the front. Chan gives you a small smile, before making his way to the front. You can hear them whispering at each other, and another two students stand up. You can feel a bit of nervousness sinking into your stomach as the last student stands as well, her bag on her shoulder as she drops her test on Joshua's desk. They chat for a bit, and you hate how you can hear his smile.

"B plus, way to go, Jiwoo. Keep this up, you'll get an A on the final!" He cheers, and she gives him a thumbs up before prancing out of the room. You feel small in the giant room, and Joshua sighs as he leans back in his chair. His laptop is out, and you assume he's going to start inputting grades.

Instead, you hear soft music flowing from the laptop as he starts moving around, grabbing the broom from the corner of the room. "Let me know if it bothers you, I'll turn it down." He speaks, and you just wave him off without looking at him.

You're staring at the stupid question for five minutes before huffing, not knowing why the difference between the subjunctive and the indicative mood even matters for this class. (Yes, you do. You're just being stubborn because you don't know the answer and it bothers you.) "Having trouble?" Joshua calls from the front, a smile on his face as he texts someone back on this phone. Probably Hyejin.

Probably planning a stupid date at a stupid restaurant where they'll order stupid dishes. Probably staring at each other like idiots and liking each other so much that nothing seems to satisfy their carnal needs–

You stop scribbling on your paper, blinking at your sudden train of thought. Why do you even care? Why does it even matter who he's texting, and what he's doing after this? Why? "Y/N?" He calls gently, and you look up to see a worried look on his face. "You okay? Thinking kind of hard, aren't you?" You huff, grabbing your bag by the strap and slightly crumpling your paper as you grab it. Your anger seems to radiate off you as you rush down the steps, nearing the desk with a sour look on your face. "So much for taking my time, huh?" He gives you a small frown, holding his hand out for your quiz. "I wasn't rushing you, just asking if you're alright. Your face was scrunched for twenty minutes." You know it was. You can still feel the tension between your brows as you rub it gently, a pout on your lips as you hand him the paper. "Yeah, well…your job isn't to stare at me. See ya."

"Hmm, but I like staring at you." He hums, uncapping his pen with his teeth as you make your way to the door. "Have a good day, Y/N." You hate the sing-song of his voice.

– ☆ –

The cafe had been super packed, so you and Chan decided to take your drinks to go. Unfortunately, Saerom was holding a study group at the apartment, so your only option was Chan's room at the frat house. You begrudgingly let him try to cheer you up as you sulked up the stairs to his room, holding your drink as Chan carries your bag for you.

"You know, one of the brothers thought we were dating? They asked me after I left Spanish earlier." He ponders aloud, and you snort. "Yeah, I can see why. I do get…pretty affectionate." You reply sarcastically, taking his hand in yours for extra emphasis.

He rolls his eyes as the two of you reach the top floor, and he fishes his keys out as you continue to tease him. "I'd never date you, you're a snotty-nosed brat. I bet you don't even know how to kiss." He sticks his tongue out at you, making you gape.

"I may be a snotty-nosed brat, but I'm a great kisser. Not that you would know, you've never felt the touch of a woman." You bite back, making him gasp. "I have too felt the touch of a woman! You literally took my-" He cuts himself off, looking over your shoulder down the hallway. You furrow your brows, looking over to see Joshua whispering sweet nothings in Hyejin's ear as he hugs her, and her giggles as she brushes her nose against his.

"I'll see you later?" He mumbles, eyes low as he nearly kisses her. She giggles again, before placing her manicured nail on his chest. "Bye, Joshie." "Bye." He smiles, letting her spin out of his arms, watching as she walks down the hall to the stairs. Only then does he notice that you and Chan are standing there, and his face flushes lightly. "Hey, guys. Sorry you had to see that." "Don't be." Chan nods awkwardly, his hand finding your hip to pull you into his bedroom. You grimace in Joshua's direction, before skirting into Chan's room. Chan lingers at the door, before sighing, and entering his room.

"Don't be upset, Y/N." He murmurs as you kick your shoes off, setting your drink down on his desk and shrugging off his jacket. "I'm not upset." You mutter, grabbing your bookbag and pulling out your laptop.

"I can tell you are." He sighs, slipping his shirt over his head, and opening his drawer to reach for a new one. "He's just our TA for a little longer, then we'll both pass the class and get the hell out of there." You look over your shoulder as he pulls a new shirt over his head, rolling your eyes. "It doesn't matter. He's gonna fuck who he wants to, so all I can do is the same." "Y/N, I am only a man." He gives you a warning look, and you snort. "Not you, you rabid dog." "Hey! I've gotten better! I even invented a stroke, I call it the helicopter." He moves his hips in a circular motion, making you shriek out a laugh. "You're a fucking freak."

"I'm just saying, I'm available. If not, I heard that Myungjun is still into you." He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. You wrinkle your nose, taking a seat on his bed. "Hell no. He likes to talk about his hookups, I don't like blabbermouths." "Then you're fucked, Y/N." He smiles, taking a seat at his desk. "But, I have a proposition." "Chan, if it involves your dick anywhere near me, I'm going to kill you." "You liked it the first time!" He throws an eraser at you, and you snicker. "I didn't know any better then. Anyway, I see the way you look at Haerim. You're not slick." You wag your finger at him, and he flushes lightly.

"So my plan is, I let you act a fool in here and make it seem like we're fucking, and you have to help me get Haerim. Tit for tat." He points his pen at you, and you scoff. "That is so not tit for tat! Haerim is a distinguished young woman, she'd never go for a gremlin like you." "Hurtful!?" He slumps in his chair, making you snicker. "I appreciate your help, Channie. But really, I don't care. It's his life." You shrug, and Chan knows you're lying. "I'm gonna get some water, I'll be back."

You hop off the bed, smoothing your skirt as you open the door. "Can I also steal snacks?" You ask, and Chan nods. "Go for it, Seungcheol buys them." He snorts, and you give him a grin as you close the door behind you. 

You take a deep breath as you brace the stairs, hearing a few of the frat brothers speaking quietly in the den. Peering over the banister, you see a card game strewn on the coffee table, with Jeonghan, Seungcheol and Joshua holding cards. They're all dressed comfortably, and Seungcheol has an ice pack on his knee. He looks up, seeing you peering over the banister. He doesn't speak as you smile at him, only returning it as you continue down the steps. You make it back down to the first floor, giving them a curt nod as you walk past them into the kitchen. "Gentlemen." "M'Lady." Jeonghan replies without looking up, and you look over his shoulder to see that he's got a dirty deck of cards, and he's about to win. "Don't mind me." You skirt into the kitchen, grabbing two cups out of the cupboard and helping yourself to the ice machine. You mind your business as you move around, grabbing a bag of chips and a packet of Gushers, before you see a woven basket on the counter with an assorted amount of condoms. You grab a rope of them, holding it between your teeth as you tuck the chips under your arm and the glasses in your hands. You move back across the den, once more greeting the men. "Gentlemen." 

Joshua looks up to see why your voice is different, seeing the blue foil packet reflecting the light. Seungcheol snorts, "Have fun, don't be too loud. Minghao is sleeping across the hall from you." "Will do, Cheol." You reply, carefully trekking the stairs. You can hear a soft Ow! What'd you do that for!? as you reach the top floor, hearing the front door slam. You put the cups down on the windowsill next to the stairs, and look over the banister to see Seungcheol and Jeonghan snickering. "Did he leave?" You call, and Jeonghan gives you a thumbs up. You rip the top condom off the thread before tossing down the rest. "Thank you, Beta Tau Sluts!" 

"You're welcome!" Seungcheol calls back, catching the condoms before they land in his drink. You grab your drinks again, carefully opening the door with your elbow and Chan looks up to see you. You set the glasses down on his desk, holding up the condom between your fingers.

"Use this with a really special girl, I just pissed off the Vice President of your frat with it." You snicker, and Chan just shakes his head. "Get in here, idiot. We need to study, or OChem is going to eat us for breakfast." "Oh, me first!"

Friday, October 14th.

Joshua put in grades the night before, and you were one point shy of a B minus.

You pretend it doesn't bother you.

Chan was sick, so he'd texted you that morning asking to take notes for him. You took the opportunity to invite Haerim to sit with you – and talk him up. Luckily, there wasn't much talking to do – she already thought he was very cute, but didn't make a move because she thought the two of you were together. You were honest about the past between you, and she just snorted, admitting she'd done the same with a friend of hers.

Msg To: Channie ♡

[10:33AM] mission haerim x chan is a go! [10:33AM] i gave her ur number so…don't fumble.

"Hello, everybody." Joshua calls from the front, and you and Haerim snap your heads up. He starts setting up the projector after everyone replies to his greeting, and she glances at you. "I wonder who broke his heart over the summer." She sighs, and you nod.

"I don't think she meant to." You shrug, your heart warming a bit at the memories. You really regretted it, of course – and it bothered you that it didn't bother him more. You'd been spending a lot of your nights just thinking about it, about him, about opening up to him.

"Well, I hope he heals. She definitely messed up, I've heard he's an absolute sweetheart." She nods, and you smile tightly. "Yeah, he is. His cousin is my best friend. Saerom?" She nods again, "I have Psych with her." "Alright, we're reviewing today." He sighs, and you notice how tired he looks. Eyes are a little swollen. Maybe Hyejin dumped him.

You don't like the giddy feeling you get at that thought.

The review goes by quietly, with Joshua's voice growing more and more tired as he speaks, and he wraps the class up with almost thirty minutes to go. Students walk by and say they hope he feels better, and he just nods at them. You linger, telling Haerim you need to talk to Joshua about office hours, and she leaves without a second thought.

The door closes behind her, and you clear your throat.

"Sick?" You ask, holding out a bag of cough drops. You'd bought them that morning, after Saerom complained of sore throat. He glances at you, and the bag, before shaking his head. "I'm good." Frowning, you step closer to him as he puts his laptop in his bag. "Then what's wrong?" Your voice is gentle, and he stiffens at the sound of it. "Nothing is wrong, Y/N. Thank you for worrying, but I'm fine."

He looks up at you, his eyes lightly rimmed red. You go to speak, but he pulls his bag over his shoulder, moving away from you. "I'll be at the house today, Chan is sick. If you need to talk." You say, before spinning on your heel to leave.

He doesn't respond, only turning away with a frown. "Have a good day, Joshua." "You too, Y/N."

– ☆ –

You were standing in front of the Beta Tau house, waiting for someone to come open the door. Jun was at a study session with Saerom and Soonyoung was out teaching a class, so you were at the house alone. Hearing the doorknob jingle, you look up to see a sleepy Seungcheol opening the door.

"Hey, Y/N. Come in, Chan is in his room." He yawns as he opens the door wider, and you just shake your head in amusement. He and Jeonghan had stopped being a problem after Joshua called them out, and it wasn't long for you to figure out they were friendly based on their treatment of Chan. Very brotherly…very…teasing.

"Hey, Y/N." Jeonghan gives you a curt nod as he stands in front of the mirror by the stairs, giving himself a once over before turning to Seungcheol. "I look okay?" "Yeah." He nods, and you look at Jeonghan over your shoulder. There is a silver packet sticking out of his pocket, "Might wanna tuck that in a little further." You call, before turning back around and trekking the stairs.

"Thanks!" He calls, shoving his hand in his pocket with wide eyes. Seungcheol laughs as you reach the top, before you hear the door open and close with Jeonghan's departure. "Boys." You roll your eyes, before reaching Chan's door. You carefully open the door, trying not to let too much light in.

Chan is draped across his mattress, a fever patch plastered on his forehead. There are half empty bottles of electrolyte drinks all over the floor, and a bowl with Jeonghan's name printed across it. You look inside, seeing broth lingering. 

They're taking care of him.

"Y/N?" You hear him croak, and you almost coo. "Oh, Chan. You're a mess." You set the bag of goodies down on his desk, fishing the thermometer out. "Open." You command, peeling the patch off his forehead and sticking the thermometer in his mouth.

You pick up a bit before the thermometer beeps, and you stare at the numbers. "Pretty mild, you've got a 101° fever." You grimace, shaking the thermometer off before skirting around to unpack the bag.

"I'm going downstairs to make you some tea, okay? I'll be right back." You mumble, before peeling the plastic off another fever patch and sticking it to the back of his neck. He shivers a bit, but nods as he closes his eyes.

Exiting the room just as carefully, you sigh. Taking the stairs quickly, you spot Seungcheol on the couch, "Hey." "Hey. He took some Advil a bit ago, and we've been alternating." He informs, and you can feel warmth spread across your chest. "Aw, you guys really care about the pipsqueak." "He's a good kid." Seungcheol nods, taking a sip of his water before eyeing the ginger root in your hand. "Cutting board is in the bottom cabinet, to the left." "Thanks." You smile, making your way to the kitchen. You see Joshua standing against the dishwasher, arms crossed and eyes closed. There is a popcorn bag in the microwave, likely his. You don't bother to say anything, just quietly opening the cabinet and retrieving the stone cutting board, rinsing it with water.

"He's also thrown up everything we've given him the past twelve hours." Joshua murmurs, his eyes still shut as he nods. "Oh. Sounds like viral gastroenteritis." You sigh, opening the drawer for a knife as the microwave beeps. He doesn't move towards it, but fills a pot with water for you and puts it on the stove. He watches silently as you slice up the ginger root, your shoulders tense.

The water starts to heat up, and you move to find a mug and honey. "Here." Joshua pulls one out from behind him, water droplets still on it from being freshly washed. You take it, "Thank you." "Can we talk when you're done? I'll be in my room." He murmurs, and you nod slowly. "Yeah, sure. I just need to feed him, something is something." He nods, opening the microwave to pull out the bag. He turns, opening a cabinet to retrieve a bowl and pour the popcorn in. He gives you a tired nod before exiting, and you peek around the corner to see him hand the bowl to Seungcheol, who thanks him quietly.

You sigh, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. You strain the boiled ginger tea, pouring it over three cubes of ice and a hefty amount of honey. You clean up quickly, and organize things in the kitchen before exiting again, a spoon in your hand in case they didn't give you one for the porridge you bought.

"Good luck." Seungcheol smiles at you, and you give him a soft laugh. "Thanks, I'll need it." 

Trying to get Chan awake proves to be most difficult once you get back to his room. He rolls over lazily, and you have to prop him up so he can drink the tea. You also carefully prepare his porridge, even going as far as spoon feeding him.

"It's so bland." He whines, and you just shake your head at him. "It's supposed to help your stomach, Channie. Just eat." He gets halfway through the bowl before he decides he doesn't want anymore, asking you to just leave it. You nod, putting the lid back over the top and choosing to clean up the mess in his room. Bottles, plates, cups, all in your arms as you exit the room once more, carefully walking down the stairs.

Seungcheol sees you, and quickly gets up to take them from you. "Woah, I didn't realize it accumulated so fast. Here, I got it, pretty." He grabs everything in one hand, before taking it to the kitchen. You follow, rolling up your sweater sleeves when he waves you off. "You're a guest. I got it, go." You find yourself floating back into Chan's room one last time, just peeking in to make sure he's sleeping. You call out, telling him to call you if he needs anything, that you'll be here for a bit. He just gives you a thumbs up. You take a deep breath, seeing Joshua's door slightly ajar. You walk over slowly, knocking on the door gently and poking your head in. He looks up from his desk, his laptop open to six different tabs and a drafted email. "Come in."

"Hi." You greet, closing the door behind you. He sighs, rubbing his palms on the fabric of his sweatpants. You inch toward him, looking at his screen. It's full of drafted projects, and the email is addressed to a certain Kwon Jiyong, DMA. You reach over and gently close the laptop, his tired eyes watching you do so.

"What's wrong?" "I'm sorry." He confessed, and you tilt your head. "Hm?"

"I was a jerk to you, the other day." He blinks up at you, and you stand for a moment, thinking back. "You mean when you called me a liar?" You smile, a soft laugh escaping. "I'm not mad anymore, you're weren't wrong. I am a liar." Shrugging, you point to the bed. He nods, and you take a seat. "Whether or not you are one…doesn't give me the right to treat you the way I did. I blew up on you, and I never do that, and it's frankly been eating away at me." He admits, and you nod, trying not to let your eyes go too wide. "Losing sleep?" "Unfortunately." Muttering, he opens the laptop again, typing in his password for the tabs to pop up again. "This isn't helping, either." he spins the mouse all over the screen, and you nod.

"Maybe you should take a breather. Go for a walk, find a muse." You offer, and he looks at you with a pained expression. You think this is the smoothest conversation you've had since your reunion. "Come on, let's go on a walk." You stand, offering your hand. He looks at it, and you wiggle your fingers.

He stands, taking it cautiously as you walk forward, grabbing his sweater off the hook and handing it to him. You open the door, seeing Haerim in the hallway with a bag in her hand.

"Haerim?" You call, your hand tightening around Joshua's, and she jumps. "Shit, Y/N. You scared me." She holds her hand to her chest, before holding up the bag. "I bought him some stew, Mingyu told me he's been really sick." Joshua peers over your head, making Haerim's eyes widen like saucers. "Shua?" "Hey, Haerim." He nods, and only then does she see the tight hold you have on Joshua's fingers. "I can explain–" You start, and she just smiles widely. "Damn, I didn't recognize your game. Respect." She nods, holding her hand over her mouth. You wince as he shrugs, tugging you slightly forward. 

"Text me." She whispers as he walks past you, and you nod quickly. The two of you walk down the stairs, and Seungcheol is now sitting on the couch again – and he gives you a lazy smile. "Damn, Y/N. You've got hella game." You laugh embarrassedly, as Joshua fixes the way your hands are intertwined. He slots his fingers between yours, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door and opening it. "Ladies first." He murmurs, and you wave goodbye to Seungcheol before stepping out into the cool October air.

"Where to?" He asks, closing the door behind himself. You shrug, shivering slightly as you start down the path. "Wherever you need to." 

The two of you walk aimlessly, before you spot the hill you used to visit during your sophomore year, before you finally convinced Saerom to transfer to your university. You'd lay on this hill with Jun, staring at the sky and talking to him about the stars. He was always surprised about how much you knew, but was kept in the dark like everyone else.

Everyone but Joshua.

"Here. I used to come here all the time." You point at the lavender-covered hill, and he lets you lead him up, before standing amongst all the flowers. "Look at the sky." 

You tilt your head up, watching as the evening sunset looms overhead. He does the same, before speaking quietly. "I'm not dating Hyejin." Your head lolls to the side, a knowing look on your face. "I know." You lie, shrugging nonchalantly as you turn back to the sky. "How?" "You like me. Hard to move on so fast." You hesitate, and he inches closer. "Yeah?" "Yeah." You breathe, feeling the warmth of his body radiating onto you. You shiver a bit, and he sighs, tucking you into him. His sweater is open, and he lets go of your hand to wrap your arms around him. He does the same, wincing lightly at the cold feeling of your hands on his back.

"I'm still very sorry, you know." He laments, and you give him a tight smile. "I shouldn't have said any of it, especially not about your parents." He looks down at you, your eyes peering up at him already.

"My parents suck, don't take back what you say about them." You shrug, scanning his face. "I am confused about the Hyejin thing." "Right, that." He sucks his teeth lightly, a slight blush coating his cheeks. "She…asked for my help, and I have a really hard time saying no." "Of what nature was this 'help?'" You make air quotes, and Joshua can see a glint of the green-eyed monster in your demeanor. He smiles, moving to card his fingers through your hair gently. "Making an ex-boyfriend jealous kind of help." "Doesn't explain why you two were about to kiss when Chan and I got up the stairs." You say pointedly, his fingers toying gently with your earring. Another gift from your grandmother, he remembers these, too. A sun and a moon. "Let's just say I could recognize your voice from a mile away." You quirk a brow at him, before scoffing. "You're obsessed with me." "Since I saw you in that white dress." He nods, making you roll your eyes. You bite back your smile, "Can I kiss you?" "You're asking?" He tilts his head, and you snort. "Some of us don't like to assume things." You say with a tinge, and he shrugs. "I know when someone wants me." "I don't want you." You shake your head, a frown on your lips as you run your own hands through his mussed hair, peering over his shoulder to see an empty campus. Odd, for this hour. "Oh, you don't?" He entertains your shenanigans, before tilting your chin up to look in your eyes. "Nope." You pop the 'p', nuzzling your nose with his. His fingers are gently tracing your jaw before he presses his lips to yours. You melt into his touch carefully, his other hand softly holding your hip, squeezing before he pulls away, touching his forehead to yours. You blink up at him, "I don't want you. I need you."

"Did you sleep with Chan?" He asks, a bit roughly as he adjusts his hold on you. His hands move to rest on your back, and you shake your head. "Not recently, no." "Recently?" His eyes widen, and you snort. "Once, three years ago." You roll your eyes, and he nods. "No plans of sleeping with him soon?" "None." You murmur, and he bites his lip, a smile threatening to take over. "Plans of sleeping with anyone else?" "Don't know, there is this one guy." You pretend to think, pulling his hands to the front and lacing your fingers with one, taking him further down the hill slowly. The flower field comes into view, and you look up at the sky to see it's darkened remarkably. "Do you know the story of Altair and Vega?" "The story of Altair and Vega?" He echoes, allowing you to sit him down, plopping down next to him before clearing your throat. You nod, placing his hand on your inner thigh. "For warmth." You roll your eyes, before leaning back on your hands. "It's an old Chinese legend. Altair is the brightest star in the Aquila constellation." You search the sky for it, before spotting it overhead. "There." You point, and he nods. 

"You told me about those three stars over the summer. Vega, Altair and Deneb." He recalls, and you feel your smile take over your face. "You remember that?"

"We can talk about that later." He shrugs, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you nod carefully. "Right…so, out of the three, Vega is the brightest. In their story, Altair is nothing but a shepherd. He herds cows after being abandoned by his family, and he yearns for love. His only love is music, and he plays lovely melodies on the flute."

Turning slightly to face him, you shrug. "Vega was said to be a goddess, from the Heavens that was forbidden from interacting with mortals, but she heard his song and it was love at first sight. She would leave the Heavens at sunrise and sunset to be with him. They even had children together. Her mother grew suspicious, and demanded she return to the Heavens. She did so."

"The shepherd had a beautiful ox with thick skin. Seeing the way his owner yearned for the love of the goddess, he offered his skin as a sacrifice to reunite them. It didn't work." 

"Why?" Joshua asks gently, his eyes still staring up at the stars overhead. "Her mother was enraged. She created a band of stars to separate them. Their love can't be, not the way they want it." You sigh, and he glances at you.

"So what are you saying?" His voice holds no malice, only curiosity. You feel his hand tighten around your thigh slightly, prompting you to remove it and swing your leg over his lap, adjusting yourself to sit on his thighs. He gives you a look of confusion, but you just lace your fingers with his before taking a deep breath. "I'm saying that I'm a coward." You admit with a mutter, not able to look him in the eyes as you blink back the sting of tears. "I'm saying that…I want to, you know. I want to be brave, I want to tell my parents that I'm not their puppet, I want to pursue my own dreams." "What's stopping you?" He murmurs, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin. "Fear." You sigh. "Fear of failing. Fear of…not being good enough." "Good enough for what? You're smart, you're passionate. You love this." He gestures at the sky, and you look into his eyes, his face blurry behind tears as you whisper just loud enough for him to hear you. "Good enough for you."

He sighs at this, reaching his fingers up to wipe at a few fallen tears. "There is another story in your legend, but in Greek mythology." Your head tilts to the side, and he smiles. "Lyra, means lyre. Orpheus was a musician in mythology, and a renowned poet. He even went down to Hades' hell to try and save his wife." "Eurydice." You murmur, and he nods. "He loved her more than anything, alongside his music. The story of how Lyra came to be, is that Eurydice died. She was bitten by a venomous snake and had long died by the time Orpheus found her. He was so heartbroken, he played the saddest melodies known to man and it affected everyone else just as much as it did him. He loved her so much, he went to the depths of Hades' hell to beg for her back, to live her full life, to enjoy her time."

He scans your face, feeling your fingers trace shapes into his abdomen. "Hades broke the rule, one time. He sympathized with Orpheus, and since they were both mortals, he knew they'd eventually return to him once their lives were over. The catch?" He took a piece of your hair between his fingers, twirling it through nimble fingers.

"Eurydice had to follow him out, and he wasn't allowed to look back at her until they got back to Earth, lest he'd send her right back." He said with a hum, watching as your lips pursed in discontent. "He turned back, didn't he?" "He feared she'd get lost in the dark. Just before they got back, just before they made it, he looked back and the gates to Hades' darkness were shut. He wept for her, for seven days and seven nights outside of those gates, but he never saw her again." He sighed, tucking the strand of hair behind your ear. "He was beaten to death by drunk women four years later, during a celebration for Dionysus. He never moved on, and was deemed a woman hater because he consistently rejected any and every woman for his Eurydice. His lyre was thrown in the river, and Zeus sent an eagle for it. That's how you got Lyra." 

Pointing at the sky, the two of you watch how the sky slowly turns. 

Without looking back at him, you whisper, "What are you saying?" "I'm saying…I don't want you to be Eurydice. Lost forever because I can't let you go." He splays his large hands across your thighs, the cold of his fingertips making you look back down at him. "But, I know that Orpheus and Eurydice deserved a happy ending. And I know that three weeks is a very short time to get to know someone, but I think…I know you better than almost anyone in your life." You stifle a laugh, nodding. "Nobody knows me like you, Joshua. Saerom doesn't even know I'm a double major." "Bad girl, very bad." He scolds you teasingly, before his thumbs press lightly into your thighs. "I want you to be happy. And if it means that this…whatever, we are…is a secret for a while, I'm okay with that." He shrugs, and you glance down at him.

"You know you deserve better, right?" You murmur, and he sighs. "It's either you or that lunch lady from my freshman year that's been after me for ages. Please, please save me." His tone is joking, but the look in his eyes is serious, solemn.

"Are you sure?" Your thumb pads his slight under eye bags, and he leans into it. "Yes, but don't give in to me so easily. I like the little mind games you play."

Snorting, you flick his nose gently. "What, so you want me to keep being defiant?"

"It's kind of hot." He crinkles his nose at the admission, and you let out a laugh. A genuine laugh, unlike your normal ones. "You're so…" He trails off, tilting his head to the side before sighing.

"I'm so what? Annoying? Stubborn? A snotty-nosed brat?" You prod, and he just smiles. "Yes, all of that. But…I don't know. You're so…easy to love."

"You…love me?" The confusion in your voice makes his chest ache. "I can't, uhm, I can't say I'm super well versed in the topic." He clears his throat, seeing your eyes become slightly glossy. "I just…I know that you feel right. I know that seeing you makes me less stressed. Nobody has been able to pull me away from my desk all week, Cheol had to physically drag me out earlier to eat something. I keep thinking back to our first night together, because the stress of some deadlines I have coming up is just driving me mad. But closing my eyes and just thinking about you, and knowing that you're not really this person you've painted for ages, I know. I think I feel closer to you, knowing that you've confided in me to keep this secret of yours, and I'm honored. I want to make you feel…wanted, needed. I want you to know that you are so much more than 'good enough.' If anything, I will never be enough for you, and I could spend the rest of my life working to earn you and your love." You're silent for a moment, taking in his words as your hands ghost over his. You give him a small smile, toying with the ring on his finger. "I should get you home." You murmur, and he smiles as he straightens, placing his hands on your back so you don't topple. "Anywhere you are is home, Y/N."

You don't respond, choosing to give him a chaste kiss. "We really need to get you home, I have to check on Chan." You speak against his lips, and he nods. "Fine, fine." The two of you get up, and Joshua files your lack of response into the back of his mind. Was it too much? Did he cross a line? 

The walk is quiet, but you're holding his hand tighter than you had on the stroll earlier. You're holding him closer, even holding onto his arm with your opposite hand and resting your head slightly on his shoulder. When you reach the frat, he unlocks the door to see Seungcheol and Jeonghan debriefing about Jeonghan's date on the couch. Jeonghan almost calls him over when he sees you float in after him, a loud whoo! from his mouth.

"Shut up!" You groan, gesturing up the stairs. "Chan is sleeping!" "Woo!" Jeonghan cheers again, albeit quieter, and you roll your eyes. Joshua takes your sweater off your shoulders, and you allow him to do so as he hangs them on the rack by the door. "How was your date, Jeonghan?" "Good! She was very sweet, good taste in music." He smiles softly, before glancing between you and Joshua. "Did you…talk?" He clears his throat, and you feel Joshua's hand on your back, his eyes looking up the stairs.

"We can debrief what happened between us…at a later date." You smile, and Jeonghan gives you a knowing look. Seungcheol sips his beer with a smirk, shaking his head as the two of you climb the stairs gingerly. "Check on Chan." Joshua whispers, kissing the back of your neck before turning to his room.

Knocking gently, you open the door to see Haerim watching him carefully. She's holding the thermometer in her hand, shaking it as she sighs. She doesn't startle when she sees you, a warm smile on her face as she holds it up. "Still mild fever." "No vomit, right?" You ask, closing the door behind you. She shakes her head, pointing at the empty stew bowl she brought. "He practically inhaled it." "Traitor, he didn't want to eat the porridge I brought him." You scoff, and she laughs. "How was…you know." She gestures in the direction of Joshua's room, and you feel yourself get a little giddy. She notices the wry smile on your lips, giving your arm a soft smack before nagging you. "What happened!" "He likes me." You shrug, biting back your squeal as she bounces on her toes with a toothy grin. "He likes you?!"

"Yes!" You giggle, bouncing with her, and Chan groans behind the two of you. You both clench your teeth shut, lowering your voices. "I'll update you some other time, okay? I'll be at his beck and call, so don't worry about Chan." Haerim nods, not bothering to probe before she hikes her knapsack over her shoulder. She leans, pressing a soft kiss to Chan's hairline, telling him she's leaving. He nods weakly, squeezing her hand before she pulls away. "Should I get one of the guys to walk you home?" You ask, and she shakes her head. "My roommate's been waiting for ages for me to call her. I'll see you on Monday?"

She walks towards the stairs, and you nod. "See you, Haerim." 

"Chan, I'm going home. Call me, or have one of the guys call me if you need anything." You call into the room, and he groans in response. You snort, grabbing your purse off his desk and carefully shutting the door, sighing as you take a few steps down the hall to Joshua's room. You knock lightly, opening the door when you hear him hum.

He's sitting in front of his laptop again, a frustrated look on his face as he connects a soundboard to his laptop, before feeling your presence. You smile at him, arms crossed before you speak, perching on the edge of his desk. "I'm going home."

"I know, I asked Cheol to walk you because I really need to focus." He says, a bit of sadness peeking through. You nod, "Thank you." "Can you text me when you get home?" His question is more of a demand, but you can see he's not trying to push it. "Yes, sir." You push off the desk, reaching to wrap your arms around his neck as he leans into his computer.

"Don't work yourself too hard, lover." You whisper in his ear, pressing a kiss to his temple before feeling his hand on your wrist, twisting his head to look at you. There's a soft blush coating his cheeks. "What'd you say?" "I said I'm going home." You change your expression to a stoic one, and he almost chokes on his laugh. "I'll see you on Monday." 

"Yeah, for sure." He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze, "Let me walk you out, at least." "Don't kiss me in front of your friends." You warn, and he snorts. Standing, he watches as your arms drape to your sides before you clasp your hands in front of you before walking out into the hallway. You both barrel down the stairs, and hear Jeonghan whining over a bottle of tequila about his date. "She's so hot, Cheol, you don't get it." "I get it, I get it." Seungcheol replies distractedly, his eyes flickering up to you and Joshua reaching the foyer. "Ready to go, Y/N?" He stands, going to the closet to rummage for a jacket. "Yeah, thanks for doing this." You smile sheepishly, and Jeonghan looks up. "Oh, you're going home?" "Yeah, Chan's sleeping and…" You clear your throat, giving Joshua a quick glance. He catches on, "I'm busy. Doing shit. Important, you know."

"Tell us more about how you wouldn't be able to control yourselves, why don't you?" Jeonghan grimaces, and you snort. "This is why you're here, yearning for your date instead of being back at her apartment." "The hell is that supposed to mean!" He pouts, and Joshua snorts as he helps you pull your jacket on. "It means you're a bitch, Han."

"Don't make me tell Y/N all your dirty little secrets, Hong." Jeonghan tilts the shot glass in his direction, making you go wide eyed as Seungcheol returns, a blue and white varsity jacket draped over his shoulders. "Alright, let's scoot. The night is young." He stretches, and you smile at Jeonghan.

"Hope you get the girl, Hannie." You say softly, and his eyes soften. "Thanks, Y/N." "Bye, Joshua." You murmur as Seungcheol steps outside, muttering about the cold under his breath. Joshua looks to Jeonghan, who has his eyes closed, before pulling you into him. "One for the road?" You roll your eyes, "One for the road."

Thursday, December 29th.

The past two months had been a mess. Your parents had continuously dropped by randomly (and they dropped by the night of the Beta Tau Halloween rager), making both you and Saerom annoyed. She'd recently started seeing Jun (which kind of makes you grateful you're not in the apartment for their study sessions, who knows what freak shit they're on) and neither of you could study or rest in peace without feeling like they'd drop by.

Missing the party was the least of your worries, because you knew Joshua wasn't going to be involved in it anyway. He sent you a text from his desk, his guitar needing to be restrung because he couldn't pull himself away from his work. You'd told him to go for a walk.

Message From: Joshua Hong (TA) [11/03] What use is a walk if you're not there to kiss my worries away? You hadn't replied, opting to choose to scream into your pillow like a giddy teenaged girl.

In this time, you'd also managed to sit Saerom down and really speak to her about yourself. You told her that you didn't feel like yourself, and when she asked why, you broke out a bottle of wine and the two of you broke down the last few years of your lives. You admitted that you didn't want any part of your family's business, and Saerom had only given you a softened look.

"Don't pity me, Rom. You know I hate that shit.""I don't, my love. I don't pity you at all."

You'd cried quite a bit, and she'd just watched quietly and wiped your tears as they came. She understood, and she voiced that she thinks she would also do the same – the lying, the escapism, the misunderstandings. She apologized, saying she was sorry that she ever made you feel like you couldn't confide in her – smiling slightly when you said that she was never the problem, it was knowing that you'd be admitting to failure. She understood that, too.

The apartment felt more homey after that – Saerom took the time to go out and buy a few things she thought you'd like – a few constellation posters, a Lego set for you to build together of the Milky Way. She built the astronaut and NASA shuttle herself, placing those in your room when you texted her a few days after she bought them saying you'd had a rough day. She heard you crying in your room, only entering to comfort you when she heard you call her name.

These weeks were also particularly difficult because you'd seen less and less of Joshua. You never considered yourself the clingy type, and the Beta Tau brothers were definitely becoming more familiar with you as the days passed. You saw Joshua outside of class maybe twice, and it was once during office hours and once by going to the house to check on Chan right after Joshua admitted his feelings for you. He'd gotten a lot better, but you'd picked up his assignments from classes you didn't share so he wouldn't fall behind. He'd asked you what was going on between you and Joshua, and you just shrugged.

"We're taking it slow."

"Please don't fuck while I'm still sick, I don't want to hear it."

You and Joshua seemed to have no plans of doing so, it seems. Your schedules did not line up, and you could see him become slightly more stressed every time you saw him. Your classmates noticed something different about him, and you and Haerim just giggled in the back when he'd steal a glance at you. She never said anything to anyone, either.

Once school let out for the winter break (and you disappointedly passed Spanish with a B minus), you did everything in your power to avoid going home. You told your parents any lie you could grapple at – Saerom was sick, you were sick and didn't want to get them sick.

The truth? You just wanted to ring in the New Year with your…boyfriend? You didn't know what the two of you were, and you weren't afraid to admit that to yourself. He was graduating soon, and possibly taking a gap year before continuing his studies. You knew this much through texts – the one thing the two of you did have time for. He sent you voice notes on his way to anywhere, he'd send you pictures of the night sky before going to bed – asking if you could point out any constellations for him. 

Message From: Shua <3 [11:32pm] Are you home? [11:33pm] Before you answer this, is Saerom home? I don't feel like explaining myself, I just want to lay the fuck down.

You snort at his message, giggling to yourself at his new contact name. You don't know if you'll ever get used to it.

Message To: Shua <3 [11:33pm] Saerom went home for the break. Something about introducing Jun to her mom.

His reply is almost instant. Message From: Shua <3 [11:34pm] Open the door, I'm freezing.

From your seat on the couch, you hear Joshua groan behind the door and you laugh. Tossing your phone to the side, you quickly get up and unlock the door. You see a pouty Joshua holding a bag of takeout, eyelashes lightly coated in snow as he enters the apartment. "You hate me." He whines, and you snort.

"I can make you go back out in the cold, if you'd like." You shrug, making him scoff as you carefully unravel his scarf. He closes his eyes as you take his jacket, and yank his beanie off his head with no care. "When do I get my kiss? I haven't seen you since finals, I deserve a kiss."

"It's like, twenty minutes until your birthday. You can't wait?" You roll your eyes, feeling a ball of fabric hit your back. You look down to see his pink glove on the floor, making you scoff out a laugh. "Now you're definitely not getting a kiss." "Oh my Goooood, you hate me!" He pouts, grabbing your arm and pulling you close to him. You shake your head, gently nuzzling your nose to his cold one. "Not one bit." You still hadn't told Joshua you loved him. Granted, the two of you were not dating and hadn't properly seen each other in literal ages – as much as 'ages' can be for two idiots in love. 

"Why are you dressed like this? And why have I never been here before? This place is cool." He looks around, spotting the astronomy figurines Saerom had started getting for you, the walls covered in photos of you together and he spots the photo of you and your parents gathering dust on one of the shelves. He doesn't mention it.

"Dressed like what? My pajamas?" You look down, and he tugs at the seam of your shorts. "Rather…provocative." "Shut the fuck up, it's almost bed time." You roll your eyes, swatting his hand away from the bare skin of your thighs. He smiles amusedly, planting a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, before peppering them all over your face. His lips meet yours lightly, a chaste taste of his strawberry lip balm lingering on your plush lips as he pulls away.

"The bag is just mochi. I already had dinner." He says sheepishly, and you shrug. "I did, too. To be honest, I wasn't expecting company." "I didn't think you'd stayed on campus." He nods, and you sigh with a sad smile. "Don't wanna see my parents." "Right. How's that going?" He asks, pulling you to the couch with one hand. You let him lay down, pulling you on top of him. Your knees hug his hips as you straddle him, his hands resting high on your thighs. "It's…going. I should call them, but I really don't want to–" You hear the doorknob wiggle, tensing in Joshua's hold as you turn. The lock turns, and your muttered whisper of fuck makes all the alarms in Joshua's mind go off. You climb off of him as the door is pushed open, and you can feel your skin heat in embarrassment as your mother scoffs, stepping into the apartment. Joshua carefully slides off the couch, stepping next to you.

"Jesus, she keeps this place a mess." She groans, looking at the bag of takeout on your dinner table. She hasn't seen you yet, placing her giant designer bag on a chair as your father comes in behind her. "All you do is judge the girl, no wonder she doesn't want to come home." He rolls his eyes, but they land on you – standing with beet red cheeks and an equally embarrassed Joshua by your side. Your father's eyes dart to the link between you – Joshua's hand gingerly interlocking your fingers. You don't speak, and he looks at Joshua's eyes filled with slight worry.

"Can you go get her? She's probably holed up in her room, looking at those stupid mo– Who the fuck are you?" Your mother has turned now, her narrowed eyes on Joshua before landing on you. "Who the fuck is that? You said you were sick, and you have company over?" Your throat is dry, and you feel frozen when Joshua steps in front of you, shielding you from your parents' view. "You must be Y/N's parents. I've heard a lot about you, I'm Joshua."

He extends his hand, and your father eyes it before taking it, shaking it firmly. "Nice grip you got there, son." Your mother scoffs, tugging her scarf off her neck with a visceral anger. Joshua can feel you cower behind him, your fingers gripping onto the back of his shirt. "Joshua what? What do you do for a living?" He clears his throat, watching as your mother walks around the apartment without taking her shoes off, taking down stuff from the walls. "Joshua Hong. I'm a producer." He lies through his teeth, and your mother scowls as she sees the Lego version of the Milky Way hung right by your bathroom. She takes it down, tossing it carelessly on the couch.

"A producer? You won't make much money." 

"That's enough." Your father speaks up, and sees you peer at him from behind Joshua. "What are you to Y/N? Boyfriend?" "Not allowed!" Your mother announces, her hands now occupied by your opened mail. Bills, bills, a credit card statement, bills…and your summer internship at the Korea Astronomy and Space Institute.

"I am…her boyfriend." Joshua whispers, losing a bit of confidence as your mother angrily walks back to your foyer. "What's this?" She holds the acceptance letter up, your eyes shutting closed as you see it in her hand. "Fuck." You murmur behind Joshua, and your mother begins to read it aloud.

"Esteemed Miss Kang, it is with great pride that we award you with the July KASI internship studying plasma physics." She crumples the paper slightly in her fist, and your father pries it from her hold as you step out from behind Joshua, and she really lays it on you.

"We told you from the start that these silly little dreams about space and stars were not going to happen. You are the sole heir to the companies, the properties, you have to continue the family business. Don't you care about that? Don't you care about paying us back for everything we've given you, and continue to supply you with? Don't you get that this is not an option?" She's not yelling, but her words cut deep as you nod slowly, the words tumbling out before you can stop to think about them properly. "I don't care." Your mother looks taken aback, and you feel your stomach flip as you clear your throat. "I don't care about properties, or companies. I don't care about money, or marrying for wealth. I…" You breathe in shakily, and Joshua instinctively puts his hands on your shoulders, an act not unseen by your mother's beady eyes.

"I don't care about being part of a family that is fueled by greed. I can't do it anymore. I hope that…you find another fit." The last part comes out as a bit of a sob, and you cover your mouth quickly. Your mother is fuming, and she turns to your father, who is silently reading the letter in his hands.

"I didn't know you liked plasma physics." He murmurs, and you feel Joshua's fingers squeeze your shoulders lightly. "I didn't even know what you were studying, if I'm being honest." Your father admits sheepishly, smoothing the crumpled edge of the sheet carefully. 

"This is a very hard program to get into. I would know," Your father holds the letter out to you, and you reach to take it, holding the corner gingerly in your fingers. "You would know?" Joshua echoes, and your father nods.

"I applied. I got the June internship for aerospace engineering, my best friend was so jealous." You don't know the last time you saw your father smile. "I'm…proud of you. I know it's a little late in saying that, I've been quite the absent father.I guess, I can't even really say father."

Your mother is tapping her foot, garnering your attention again. "Whatever rebel strike you're on isn't cute, Y/N. I've got investors waiting to meet you, wanting to draw up contracts, to build new properties with your name across the front." Your father sighs, shaking his head as he looks at the two of you again. "Joshua, could you give us a moment?" 

You turn to look at him, your eyes pleading him not to leave. He gives you a sorry smile, squeezing your shoulders before kissing your hairline. "I'll be in your room." He murmurs, and you nod, watching as he walks away, slipping into the only open door in the hallway. He shuts it behind him. 

Your father sighs, leaning against the door frame. "Your mother and I are getting a divorce."

You can feel your eyes widen as far as they go, your mother flushing furiously. "Can I ask why?" "It's none of your business." She grits, and your father scoffs. "I'm selling the company. I'm tired, Y/N. Being in business is not what I want to do." He shakes his head, and you try to bite back a smile.

"It's not?"

"No. I'm donating the money to the Aerospace Engineering program here, actually." He gestures around you, indicating the University. You feel your lips tug into a smile, your father's warm eyes matching yours. "I don't understand why you can't just leave the company in Y/N's name so she can take over when we're both dead and gone. At least it sets up a stable future for her!" "She won't be happy, Bora! That's why I can't do that. Nothing in this life means anything if we're not happy." He groans frustratedly, and you feel almost taken aback by your father's words. He'd always been a silent man – a bit cold, with two friends and love for one thing: baseball. 

And space, you now know.

"This is fucking ridiculous. I cannot leave my investors hanging, and I refuse to hand over my properties to someone I don't even know!" Your mother is exasperated, and you almost want to laugh at how you and your father shrug simultaneously. 

"Whatever." She grumbles, snatching her purse off the chair, pulling it over her shoulder. She gives you a nasty look, "I assume this means you will also bail on meeting the Mins' youngest son? Yoongi has been waiting to meet you." 

"Yoongi can shove it." You shrug, and she just shakes her head in disappointment – but for once…you don't care. She slams out of your apartment, her scarf flung over the back of your couch. Your father gives you a gentle smile, and you return it. 

"I'm sorry for not being a better father to you, Y/N. I should have tried harder." He laments, and you see his eyes begin to gloss over with tears. You step forward, enveloping him in a loose hug. "I think…standing up for me and what you believe in, is a step in the right direction. I haven't been a very present daughter, either."

He laughs shakily, giving you a tight squeeze. "How about you and I get dinner in the next few days? You can even bring Joshua, I kind of like that kid." He mumbles, and you feel your stomach flutter at the mention of your…boyfriend's name. "I'll check our calendars and shoot you a text, okay?" "For sure, kid." He pulls away, softly patting your head. "I'll see you, okay?" "Yeah. See you." You nod, opening the door for him. He leaves with another word, your mother's scarf in his hand as he exits your apartment. You feel a wave of relief wash over you, but bite back your tears as you lock the door and march to your bedroom. Opening the door, you see Joshua flopped diagonally across your bed, phone in his hand.

It's twenty minutes past midnight, and the date reads December 30th.

"Hey, you." He looks over his shoulder, and watches as you pin the acceptance letter to the corkboard above your dresser. You put your hands on your hips, staring at it with a bit more content in your heart. 

"Hey, boyfriend." You say, turning to face him. His ears turn pink, and he sits up. "It just came out, okay? I'm sorry, I know I haven't even taken you out to dinner or anything but I really, really–" You crash your lips to his, pushing him back onto your bed as you straddle him. "Yeah, yeah. No need for explanations." You peel your shirt off, tossing it to the side as he looks at you with wide eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Happy birthday, lover."

Saturday, May 6th.

"Joshua Hong." 

You cheer loudly from the stands as he crosses the stage, watching his cheeks tinge pink as he hears you over the clapping and yelling from his fraternity. He smiles as the photographer takes his picture, before looking up at the stands to find you. You wave excitedly, and his eyes brighten all the more. I love you, he mouths.

I'm proud of you, you mouth back. Wimp.

– ☆ –

"Hey, gorgeous. You a tourist?" You're standing at the bar of the same salsa club you and Joshua danced at last summer when you hear Joshua's voice behind you, and you struggle not to roll your eyes. The two of you only stayed at the graduation long enough to watch Jeonghan cross the stage, before Cheol texted the group and said he was sneaking out. 

The three of them had booked a last-minute trip…back to Puerto Vallarta.

"The city where you fell in love!" Cheol teased as the group loaded into the car, with you sitting on Joshua's lap in the backseat. Saerom was sitting next to you, and Junhui was giggling at the redness of your cheeks as the pair of douchebags teased you to no end. It didn't matter though – you felt Joshua smile into your shoulder as the group pulled into the airport.

"Yeah, I am. Are you?" You played his game, waiting until he finally came into your line of vision with the same baby blue guayabera you first saw him in. Your stomach flutters lightly as his hand ghosts your back. "Nah, I've been here before. Got my heart broken by a cute thing, she looked a little like you." "Alright, that's enough roleplay you weirdo." You scoff, shoving his hand away from you as he laughed, He stepped slightly closer, ignoring your faux annoyance. "Right, right…I know some cool places here, if you'd care to join me." His eyes twinkle something mischievous as the bartender slides you your drink. You take it with a thank you, before sighing and linking your arm with Joshua's. "Do you, now?" "I do. There's some pretty hammocks down the beach, you can see all the stars right now." He glances up at the sky as the two of you leave the club, your shoes clutched in his hand as your toes sink into the warm sand. You smile up at him, "What do you know about stars?" "Someone very special once told me a story about two lovers who couldn't be…and they reside in these very stars." He points at the sky, and you nod. "You know, I once heard a story like that, but they were involved in Greek mythology." You stare up at the sky, when you reach the hammock the two of you shared that first night.

"Really? Was it about Orpheus and Eurydice? I love that one." He smiles as he helps you on, fixing the skirt of your dress to cover your legs more. "Your star-crossed lovers, were they Altair and Vega?"

"So you do know stars." He slides in, and you rest your head on his chest. "I do. Love them, actually." "You're my brightest star." He murmurs, kissing your forehead lightly as his hand maps out the Lyra constellation. "It's so pretty, isn't it?" Looking back down at you, he sees the gloss over your eyes and sits up. "Babe! Don't cry, oh my God–" "I love you." You blurt, watching as his brows raise, his ears tinging pink in the low light of the moon. He lays back down slowly, and you scrunch your face before sitting up and looking down at him. "Hello? Big moment here, asswipe?" "Just a second." He smiles painfully, and your brows only furrow more. "What the hell is wrong with you?" 

"I'm hard." He whispers, making you glance down. "Don't look at it! What's wrong with you!" He pouts as you burst into laughter, your hand resting on his stomach as you muffle your laughter with his shoulder.  "It's not funny."

"You're such a LOSER!"

Pulling back, you wipe at your eyes, catching your breath.

"But you love me too, right?" You ask, peering down at him as he rolls his eyes, smiling widely. He brings you closer to him, his lips ghosting over yours as he speaks softly.

"I love you so much, I'd bring down the stars if you asked me to."

haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[traumatrios]

the name of the game

pairing… dodge mason x fem!reader

wc… 2.3k

summary… you don’t talk to strangers— but there’s something different about dodge. was it his charm? his looks? or the way you couldn’t get him off of your mind?

warnings… ends in smut, face riding, drinking (not drunk sex), iconic red cowboy boots, brief pain pleasure, dodge is soooo delusional

josie’s notes! um i kinda don’t remember how panic ended for dodge (i finished it a week ago) so take the beginning plot with a grain of salt

otherwise enjoy my lovelies ❤️

Dodge didn’t have many friends to begin with, but with most of the kids his age out of Cape and attending college, he did feel quite lonely. 

He’s not a stranger to the fact that college wasn’t in the cards for him– he had too many responsibilities. He knew his sister could very much take care of herself, but lazy Sunday’s on the couch next to her was where his heart truly belonged. 

His mother needed help managing the restaurant, because as much as she prided herself for her hardworking motherhood and independence, he saw the breath of relief she had whenever he was there.

He was perfectly fine as a blue collar working adult. What did he need college for anyway? It was too expensive, especially after the necessary but monetarily disappointing ending to Panic. He was too old to apply now.

Dodge took his time off of working at his bar to nurse the foam of a beer from another in a neighboring town. 

Was this really what his future was? He was dangerously nearing a seat in the same boat as the men surrounding him in the ambience of the dive bar: old (21) with a family at home (he was unattached with a sister and a single mother 5 minutes away from his apartment). 

Dodge might as well accept it; this was his destiny.

But the glimmer of fate came to him through a vision he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining from the wild dreams in his head or the material of a Playboy magazine. 

The mechanical bull sitting in the middle of the recreational space of the bar with a pretty girl attached to its saddle.

Dodge couldn’t tell if you were a saddle bronc rider (like himself) or just intensely familiar with your hips. You rode the mechanical bull like it was a kids bicycle with training wheels.

But with how you grinded against the fur of the mechanical bull with the rhythm it was bucking, he landed on the latter.

It was entrancing to look at, he admitted. The winks you sent into the collecting audience only strengthened his hopes of getting one shot at him. 

The mechanics continued to whir and spin you around, pathetic attempts to throw you off of the attraction you were obviously very skilled at riding. Have you been here before? Has he just never noticed you?

How could he never notice you.

Before he knew it, Dodge was leaning against the inflatable rim of the attraction, eyes wide in awe of your performance. One hand gripped the braided rope attached to the nape of the bull’s neck whilst the other waved in the air freely to your girlfriends, who had been screaming your name in the same way Dodge heard it yelled by paparazzi during award shows his sister watched on the weekends through the television.

The moderator of the attraction seemed just as impressed as anyone else watching you, even holding the twinge of suspicion some kept in the quirk of their brow. A crowd eventually formed around your performance, whistling and cheering you on as the meat of your calves squeezed the sides of the bull’s stomach.

Dodge thinks he heard a “yee haw!” come from the intoxicated group of guys (no younger than 30) stuffed in a booth attached to the wall facing your ass.

Bright digits flashed on the screen beside the control booth, announcing the new high score of Big Star Bar. 2 minutes and 36 seconds.

As you unmounted the artificial bull, Dodge didn’t pull his eyes away from you like the rest of the crowd did. You weren’t a one hit wonder, he had to know your secrets. What was a girl with hips like yours doing in a random dive bar in Texas?

Dodge wasn’t sure how to approach you, especially after losing you in the crowd of girls in identical cowboy hats and guys in flannel. He was lucky enough to skin his eyes over the bar and spot your sparkling red boots tapping and gliding against the dingy dance floor.

The boy filed through the crowd until the heat in the air turned from heavy to sweaty dance floor heavy. 

Dodge scanned the horseshoe— painted? —on the back of your jean jacket and how it paired with your cowboy boots. It felt like something out of a movie, seeing your outfit.

“This your first rodeo?” he greeted, though from his stance behind your back, he wasn’t surprised by the small jump in your shoulders. But when you turned around, you were just as beautiful up close than you were on that damn bull. Dodge noticed the thick pieces of glitter scattered across your collarbone and how it seemed to match with the other girls in your party.

“Sorry. I don’t talk to strangers,” you shrugged, offering Dodge a friendly smile in apology.

Your gaze didn’t even falter or scan him, just unwaveringly looking him in the eye before you turned around again to chat with your friends. 

“Aren’t those the most fun to talk to though?” Dodge tried, and god did it form a pit in his stomach to feel like one of those guys that pushed for a girl's attention— a bad guy.

This got you to turn back around again.

Truthfully, his looks were hard to deny; especially with that ivory colored cowboy hat on his head. Otherwise, he wore a navy tee with a pair of dark jeans and black boots; the simplest thing ever. 

One hand was stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, the other tapping its digits against the sweaty glass of a bottle of beer. 

“Do you really wanna talk? Grandma taught me that boys like you never want to just talk.” 

Dodge couldn’t fight against that, not confidently at least. He knew he didn’t want to just talk, but he also didn’t know what else he’d want to do. Is this what being in limbo felt like?

You gave Dodge the grace of a second before pointing an eyebrow at him and turning again, only this time walking off with your friends to a different corner of the bar.

Dodge was too stubborn to talk growing up, and in this moment— and only this moment —did he curse himself for doing so.

In Cape, everyone was a regular. 

It didn’t matter where you went or with whom, you were known better than the alphabet.

When Dodge came into town, he became a regular. In most places, at least.

He knew you weren’t from Cape because you weren’t a regular here. Which is why he was surprised to see the same red heels he’s been dreaming about since the weekend stroll into the establishment he worked in.

You knew what you were doing, of course. You knew about Dodge Mason because Gina knew about Dodge Mason, and she knew about Dodge Mason from her boyfriend Daniel.

That’s how you got here, wasn’t it? But, Dodge didn’t need to know that.

He didn't need to know how your girlfriends teased you for playing hard to get or how you began sweating just from looking into his piercing eyes.

And when those piercing eyes caught the sight of the painted horseshoe on your back, he thought it must be my lucky day.

As you sat at the bar, Dodge couldn’t think of any other way to praise whatever god trailed you in here rather than repeating the same ‘thank you’s in his head.

“Evening, lucky,” he coined the nickname from the symbol. You fought a smile at his wit, instead rolling your tongue along the flesh of your lip. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you sir?”

Dodge chortled at your act, but your face stood unwavering. Your tits looked perfect while pressed against the bar, but Dodge managed to pull his eyes a little higher to see the small tick in your neck signaling your so-called ‘confusion’.

You must’ve not liked his silence, because you picked up the silence with a small sigh and your order.

“May I have a shirley temple with just a dash of lime juice, please?” you batted your eyelashes at the unconvinced boy, being met with the playful roll of his eyes. 

Despite himself, Dodge began to concoct your beverage. You were strange, he thought. Where did you come from? Were you visiting? Would he see you again if nothing came from this conversation? How would he be sure?

He had to make sure this one counted, not like that pathetic excuse of conversation at the bar. The clicking of your nails rippling against the waxed bar behind his back mimicked the ticking clock– he might as well shoot a shot. Perhaps it was an easy target, especially with his luck sprawled against your back. 

“Did your grandma also teach you these manners?” Dodge planted the highball in front of your impatient hands. You took a look at the glass, then him, then to the glass again, where your eyes stayed as you tasted the drink. The sugar spreads across your tongue, satisfying its parched state.

“I still don’t talk to strangers,” you said, but the smirk that played on your face told Dodge something different. Your game wouldn’t fool him, not when you drop it just as limp as that. Did you want him like he wanted you?

You two weren’t strangers, no, he knew you were meant for something more. 

“So you admit to it,” he turned his head from the focus on your drink, only to catch your face hot with guilt. He chuckled to himself at your game.

“We ain’t strangers. This is our second meeting, perhaps fate is sending a message?” God, when did Dodge Mason become so sappy? He was grasping at the ends of a rope he wasn’t sure you were on the other end of.

But then you smiled. You smiled and twirled the skinny black straw around the ice of your drink. “And what message would that be?” you challenged.

Dodge leaned his elbows on the dark oak of the bar. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before his proposal, or rather, ‘the message’. “You should come home with me tonight.” He kept it at that; simple and charming. 

You giggled like a schoolgirl at his confidence. By the looks of it, he had been a lustful young adult, admittedly like you, with maybe a studio apartment. Your mind could only think of one thing he planned to do if you accepted the invitation, and you knew it wasn’t puzzles and lemonade. 

Were you opposed? Not entirely. 

“And what would this night entail? What do I get from entering your home? You gon’ drive me home after?” You matched his stance, leaning forward on the folded elbows you stuck to the waxy countertop. Dodge felt a stream of intimidation flow through his veins at the way you pointed your eyebrow at him.

“Might have to come to find out,” he replied, swiping his tongue over the toothpick that hung from his mouth. You couldn’t restrain your eyes from flickering down to the pair of lips. 

You were sure the sharp metal of his handle left a burning mark when he pushed you against it in the barren hallway of his apartment building. But with the incessant kissing of his lips distracting your mouth– and eventually everything else –it didn’t matter much to you anymore.

Your frame had been stripped of all fabric, laying in addition to his in the ratty hamper dejected in the corner of his room. Soon enough, he was insisting on a third round to cure the burdens of his barren tongue.

“Wanna see how you ride up close, baby,” he reasoned through a hushed tone, kissing the clammy skin of your temple.

How could you refuse? Especially when his hands began to rub those soothing circles into your hips and the tip of his tongue licked the shell of your ear during the whisper.

When he was prodding his tongue into your entrance a few minutes later, you knew it was the right decision to follow him out of the door. With your tits bouncing underneath the warm light thrusting through the ceiling of the sauna he called his room, Dodge took it upon himself to bruise your skin of this (rather heated) interaction through two large grips of his hands on your ass whilst you fucked his face. 

Dodge’s curious tongue soon turned into a hungry one, accompanied by the brief scraping of his teeth against the puffy lips of your pussy. The small bumping of his skull against the wooden headboard spurred him on rather than slowed him down, and you hoped the string of moans and mewls coming from your mouth were enough gratitude to satisfy his desires.

Due to popular demand– a loose request that fell in pieces from Dodge’s dumbstruck position underneath you –you wore his cowboy hat, glaze sticking from your hairline onto the weaved material. Dodge didn’t mind, in fact, he reveled in the thought of that same sweat mixing with his own during a rodeo. Dripping down his face just like how the sudden flood of your sweet juices were coating the stubble on his chin and the point of his nose. 

Dodge lived up to his word the morning after, tapping the ends of his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel to the tune of Bruce Springsteen’s voice singing “Glory Days” from the beaten up radio of Dodge’s Cadillac. Summers' heat wavered through the air of Cape even when Dodge drove past the speed limit on a lonely road. 

When you arrived at the doorstep of your grandmother's house, Dodge didn’t worry about the possibility of seeing you again, only admiring the way you swayed your hips and clicked your heels against the pavement during your strut. The corners of his lips pulled up into something that was not quite a smirk. 

He liked how your game was turning out.

traumatrios, 2024

divider by @saradika-graphics !

[ashkabbom]

Nightmares - Mouthwashing

A/n: I finished the draft of this at 3am and finished the English version at 5am😭. I'm not going to lie, I was a little embarrassed while writing this, but I kind of liked how it turned out. Feel free to correct me if I wrote something wrong. English is not my first language and I used the help of translator🎀.

Versión en español en Wattpad: Libro de One Shots - Mouthwashing (Cuenta: ashkabbom)

Versão em português no wattpad: Livro de One Shots - Mouthwashing (Conta: ashkabbom)

Summary/Synopsis: Nightmares keep you awake longer than you want.

Notes: I didn't specify gender and I didn't describe any closer relationship with any character, so you decide the gender and how you see the relationship between them.

→Warning: There is mention of death, blood and suicide here, so be careful or don't read if these are subjects you don't like and doesn't feel comfortable reading, since they are sensitive topics, okay?🫶🏽 Take care of yourself.

Stupid ideas are something common to everyone, right? Well, going after that job, even knowing how strange it seemed for them to accept you so... quickly or easily, that was stupid.

Daisuke and you had been playing Monopoly for a while, maybe 30 minutes. You guessed it was sometime between 3 and 4 in the morning, the moon on the huge screen letting you know that you were definitely not supposed to be awake right now.

It was those few moments that made you feel like yourself again, less crazy. Being among the stars in space was new, you didn't really expect to be here and it was a little strange not talking to other people.

"You can pay me $250" You mentioned with a cheeky smile and a cocky voice.

Daisuke looks at you confused and then at the board. It was already the fourth time he had landed on a property you had purchased, and that in 15 minutes.

"How do you manage to make this game work in your favor?" He asked indignantly.

"Daisuke Daisuke... You need to expand your mind a lot with the knowledge of a true entrepreneur." You explain with elegance and sincerity.

"I still have a lot to learn then" Daisuke says sighing with a raised eyebrow.

"This is already the second property stolen in this game without you seeing it," Anya says as she watches you and Daisuke playing.

"Hey, I thought we were friends." You look at Anya with fake disappointment.

"I thought WE were friends!" He shouts (whispers loudly) in disbelief. "And before that you two were complaining when we were playing UNO."

"Your cards were only good cards! It was impossible for you to have gotten those cards completely randomly," Anya asks, pointing her finger at him.

"What can I do if luck was on my side?" He shrugs smugly.

"What a coincidence that luck was on your side when you were the one who shuffled the cards, huh?" You point out with a doubtful tone. "Quite a coincidence."

"A twist of fate," he quickly retorts. "By the way, you were the one who brought the UNO deck, who can guarantee that you hadn't already left the deck ready for you to deal the cards?"

"Are we really arguing about UNO this early in the morning?" Anya asks with a slight smile.

"It's for the power of being right and not being accused of false crimes" Daisuke answers simply. "But I think I've had enough of Monopoly, this game takes longer than I remember and is more fun with more than two people, since Anya didn't want to play"

"Of course I'm playing! I'm the bank!" She says, feeling wronged.

"Just handing out the money doesn't count, you're not playing in the game with us" He retorts once more, pointing at her face.

"He's right," you reply as you start to put the game away. "But I swore we had more board games here on the ship."

"And we have, I remember having more than these three at least.." Anya says a little thoughtfully. "It must be in someone's room I think"

The three of you start to put away the games you had brought there together without much fuss, although Daisuke said that one of the Monopoly dice was missing.

You never imagined meeting the two of them during one of your sleepless days. Anya you had met before when you were sleep deprived once, but Daisuke was new, out of all the others you thought he would be the one who would have perhaps the best sleep because he was an intern.

This goes down the drain when he says that sometimes he lies awake thinking only that this time he heard footsteps in the hallway, probably yours, so he went to see who it was and was lucky that it was you and Anya. If it were any of the other three, he didn't know if he would be able to make any conversation flow more smoothly.

That's how you ended up playing some games during the early hours of the morning. Daisuke suggested you guys maybe play something in silence while you talked, coincidentally you had some games.

"Did you imagine yourself working here when you did the job interview?" This time it was Anya who started a conversation.

"I was kind of pushed here, so I was hoping so," Daisuke says, remembering how he got here. "But I didn't really want to be accepted here."

"I didn't even expect to get a job so quickly, I had resigned a week earlier from another job" You say as you plop down on the couch, the two board games on your side with the UNO deck on top.

"And why did you resign?" The boy asks curiously, throwing himself on the couch and stretching.

"My boss was my ex, and he was my ex for a reason, I think that was already a reason for me to rethink whether my workplace was good or at least tolerable." You say it simply. "But obviously there were other reasons, I almost sued the place where I worked, but that's a story for another day."

"And then you came to work in such a cool place like Pony Express, what a great thing" Anya says sarcastically, sitting down next to him.

"I needed a job, water, electricity and food bills are not paid with anything" You sigh sadly. "But I think I'm going to quit when we get back, it's not necessarily rock bottom here but it's not a good thing either."

"I think I'd feel a little better if I knew less about what we were transporting into space." Daisuke complains and rests his head on his hand.

"That's a fair reason, I hadn't thought about that side of things just now.." She stops to think if at any point they had received any information about the thing that you were all transporting.

"Hmmm.. That kind of company must transport food or water, things like that, right?" You assume that it must be based on what little you know.

So you stay in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the calm that night..

Now the silence seemed like the worst torture.

If you had known that, I think you would have been better prepared to try to deal with the situation, or... I don't know. You can't even imagine knowing how to deal with this. You just want to go back to that night and make it last a lifetime.

You hugged your friend with all your strength, saying that everything was going to be okay and that she was going to be okay, you were going to go back home, you were going to play together again.

"NO NO NO! God, please tell me this is a lie!" You sob through your tears. "Anya! Please talk to me! Don't say that's true!"

She didn't respond at all, her eyes, now lifeless, staring upward, blood staining her mouth and chin.

You begged her to be a lie and just mess with you, to wink and laugh at how desperate you were and tell her she was fine. Everything seemed so unreal, so weird and heavy.

Crying is the only thing you could do right. You don't even know how long you stood there with her in your arms.

But then you freeze.

You freeze when you notice Daisuke's silence in the other room, you sob and just hear Jimmy say something about letting him think he was going to fix everything.

Carefully letting go of Anya's body you stand up.

That's not true, is it?

As you enter the other room you look to the side and feel like vomiting.

"Daisuke, no no no... Daisuke answer me, please look at me, please please..."

Screaming and crying you go next to Daisuke's body now in silence, running your hand over his face.

Gosh, you didn't even know what to do. On one side was Anya's body and on the other was Daisuke's body.

All you could do was beg any God that could hear you at that moment, beg that all of this was just a terrible dream and that your friends were okay.

They still had so many dreams, you still had so many things to do together. Even if you never left the ship and died here, you would get through this together.

What had you done to deserve this? What had Anya done to deserve a future like this? Daisuke still had so much to live for.

A few minutes pass with you sitting on the floor, now holding Daisuke's body in your arms, running your hands through his hair, saying that tomorrow is another day, that he would talk excitedly to you again..

You remember hearing Swansea yelling to go after Jimmy, but at this point you couldn't tell what you were imagining and what was real.

You lay him down again.

Everything would be sorted out tomorrow.

You walk towards the kitchen in that room.

This is all too much for your head.

You grab something from the kitchen.

Everything was going to be fine

You move automatically, and then blood gushes from your neck, the knife falls and then your body.

Curse this nightmare you lived in.

[mikashisus]

WALTZ INTO THE HEART

SYNOPSIS: fate seems to keep bringing fontaine’s most famed magician into your life, even when you swore you’d never fall in love again. but when you see how he handles your daughter and how her eyes light up with joy whenever he’s around, you cave and allow him into your heart.

PAIRING: lyney x single mother!reader

TAGLIST ! @pixelcafe-network @wystiix

warnings: mentions of teen (19) pregnancy, hurt/comfort, family issues, mc has a mom bod, suggestive comments

wc: 6k

notes: feeding the lyney enjoyers (yona). i started this literal months ago and im so glad it’s finally finished and out of the way. i had sm fun writing the last few scenes! anyw i hope u guys enjoy!

As a performer on the streets of Fontaine, Lyney was more than familiar with the fact that his tricks were more popular with young children. 

Their eyes would light up in childlike awe as they watched him closely, trying to find a flaw in his tricks that they could call him out on while simultaneously wondering how the trick was even performed in the first place. 

He was no stranger to their yells, begging him to do it again so they could watch his every little movement and find that flaw. But Lyney was perfect at hiding the secrets behind his magic. Years of practice led him up to this moment. 

He was also no stranger to kids who had run off from their parents to look for him. Many, many times children have come up to him and asked him to do a trick for them, their parents arriving about ten minutes later, out of breath and a frown on their lips as they berated their children for suddenly running off. 

Today was no different. 

He stood in the center plaza of the city, underneath the hydro-powered machine that made an eerie whirring noise if you stood too close. 

He ended his last trick of the night by telling a small boy to touch the back of his ear. The boy did so, flipping it over to show the contents: an ace of spades. 

“Is that your card?” Lyney questioned with a smile, watching as the boy’s face lit up with joy. 

“Wow!!” The kid exclaimed excitedly. “It is! How’d you do that, Mr. Lyney!?” 

Lyney took the card from the boy’s hands and tossed it into his hat before placing his hat back onto his head. The hat rocked side to side vigorously as a star shaped eye of a grinmalkin cat peeked out from underneath. 

“Shoo!” 

Lyney gently brushed the cat away. In a flurry of confetti, the cat disappeared back under the hat, letting out a tiny purr that sounded like a rebuttal. With a sigh, Lyney shook his head. The kids that were gathered around him laughed at the interaction. 

He opened his eyes and knelt down so that he was eye level with all of them. He winked and placed a finger over his lips. “A magician never reveals their secrets! After all, it’s not really magic if you know how it’s done!” 

Disappointed “aww”s fell from the children’s mouths, though they weren’t seriously saddened. They perked up at the sounds of their parents’ voices, rushing over to them and grabbing their hands as they recited the events of the mini magic show. 

A fond smile graced Lyney’s lips as he waved goodbye to the children and their parents. This was what he loved most about his job: bringing smiles to everyone’s faces. 

“There you are, brother.” 

The soft voice of his sister ripped him from his thoughts. She walked up to him slowly, tiredness reflecting in her purple eyes as she sent him a small smile. “Should we get dinner?” 

Lyney shook his head. “I think Freminet is cooking seafood soup tonight, so we should wait until we get back to the House. Besides, Father is coming home tonight. We should be there to welcome her home.” 

A frown erupted onto Lynette’s face at the mention of waiting. A complaint was ready on her lips, when a small voice called out to Lyney from ten feet away. He abruptly turned, watching as a little girl wearing a sky blue dress ran towards him with a beaming smile on her face. 

“Mr. Lyney!” 

He replaced his frown with a polite smile and knelt down, placing an arm on his knee. “Well hello there! What can I do for you?” 

The girl suddenly grew nervous. She shyly played with the ends of her dress, averting her gaze to the ground as she muttered out a response. “I was watching your magic show, but I was too scared to come closer…” 

Lyney raised a brow in concern. “Oh? Why is that?” 

“B-Because there were tons of people!” 

In reality, there had only been about eight kids and five adults, but kids were known to greatly exaggerate situations. He gave her a kind smile as she anxiously looked up at him once more. He placed a hand on her head. 

“I understand what it’s like to be nervous in a crowd of strangers. In fact, I have stage fright.” 

“He does.” Lynette confirmed, a small smirk pulling at her lips as Lyney sent her a fleeting glare. 

The little girl’s eyes widened in shock. “You do?” 

With a nod, Lyney hummed. “Yep, I do. Sometimes I have to perform in front of crowds ten times bigger than the one you saw. It can be scary, but with my sister by my side, all that fear goes away.” 

“Really?” With another nod, Lyney hummed. The little girl’s eyes flickered to Lynette, before they rested on the ground again. “But I don’t have a sister…” 

“That’s alright. There are other ways you can counteract your anxiety. Like… Oh! You can try talking to the other kids. I’m sure they’d love to be friends with you!” 

The little girl bit her lip nervously. She sure was shy. It was silent for a few moments. Lyney opened his mouth to speak, when the girl suddenly grabbed onto his hand. “Can you—” 

“Lilia!” A feminine voice called, attracting the attention of the young girl standing in front of Lyney. 

You were completely out of breath as you came to a stop in front of the two magicians. Immediately, you focused your attention on your five year old daughter, who had run off on you a half hour ago. 

“Lilia, I was looking everywhere for you!” The concern in your tone and your expression made the weight of your scolding feel extremely light. “If you go running off on me again like that, young lady, you won’t be able to go to that magic show I got us tickets to.” 

“But mommy!” She whined, tugging on the sleeves of your blouse. 

You looked up from her to turn to the two magicians who were watching the scene with amused looks in their eyes. You stood up and apologized. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lyney, Ms. Lynette. I hope she wasn’t too much of a hassle. She has a lot of energy.” You couldn’t hide your smile as you looked down at your daughter. 

There was no way you could stay mad at her for long. Though, you were serious when you said you wouldn’t let her go to that magic show if she kept disobeying you. 

You gently ran your fingers through your daughter’s hair as Lyney smiled. “It was no trouble at all!” 

He took off his hat. “I believe I left something in here,” he muttered, his nose scrunching up as his hand rummaged around in his hat. His face lit up a moment later. “Aha! Got it!” 

With a flourish, and a sudden burst of confetti, he pulled a beautiful bouquet of rainbow roses out of his hat and bowed as he held it out towards you. 

“Rainbow roses as beautiful as the lady standing before my very eyes. How enchanting you are, ma cherie.” 

The sudden gesture was extremely flattering. You haven’t been openly hit on in quite a while. It had nothing to do with your looks or your age, but rather, the fact that you had a daughter. You were still young— twenty-four —so it was quite the shocker when you mentioned to other people that you had a daughter. 

Not many were willing to date someone who already had a child. It was hard to find someone who was, which eventually made you give up. You came to terms with being single, and told yourself it was better that way— that your household was better with just you and your little carbon copy. 

Lyney’s eyes were expressive and sly. Underneath his charm, there was a clear nervousness. He fidgeted in his spot, waiting with bated breath to see if you’d really take the bouquet from his hands.

A new, panicked thought ran through his head. You had a daughter… Did that mean you were married too!? 

Uh oh, he thought, swallowing the lump in his throat, did I overstep? 

He breathed a long silent sigh of relief when you took the bouquet, your fingers brushing over his gloved ones. The smile on your face was one of pure happiness, albeit a bit bashful. Eagerly, you brought the roses up to your nose. They were fresh, as if they had been picked just that day. 

“Thank you,” you said wholeheartedly, “these are gorgeous. We’ll put them in our windowsill for the whole neighborhood to see. Right, Lilia?” 

You sent your daughter a smile, to which she returned with a big one of her own.

A week later, you were attending Lyney’s magic show with your daughter and your best friend, Erika. The show ran smoothly and was absolutely flawless. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of them for one second. Even after the show, you sat in awe, wondering just how in the world those tricks were performed. 

Erika stood up from her seat, stretching her arms above her head. She sighed in relief as she lowered her arms back to her sides and grabbed her purse. 

“That show was amazing! I think my favorite was that last trick with the knives…” she rambled, “Shit, I have to go to the bathroom. Do you guys need to go?”

You sent her a small glare. You told her countless times not to use curse words in front of your daughter, yet she kept forgetting. Thanks to her, your daughter would blurt them out at random moments, causing you to scold her. Erika would apologize profusely every time it happened when she was present. 

Shaking your head, you turned to Lilia. “Do you need to go, sweetie?” 

She nodded, already searching for your hand. Erika picked her up with ease. “I can take her, since you don’t have to go. Just wait for us by the Fountain of Lucine. We shouldn’t be long, right Lily?” 

Erika was great with kids. On days that you needed a babysitter, she jumped at the opportunity. She was fun, loving, and an overall joy to be around. She lit up every room she entered, and she knew how to handle your rascal of a daughter. You were more than thankful for not only her help, but her friendship. 

The two of you have been friends ever since you were children. She was the lively, extroverted class clown that loved to be friends with everyone, while you were the quiet, shy kid that preferred to keep to herself in the back of the classroom. The two of you were polar opposites, yet as soon as she laid her eyes on you and asked to be friends, you were inseparable. 

Years later, nothing changed. The two of you were still the same as you once were. In a way, that felt comforting. 

She bid you a quick goodbye as she raced off to the bathrooms with Lilia in her arms. You slung your purse over your shoulder and began to head towards the exit, running your fingers over the playbill in your hand. You would put this one right next to all the others you had on your bedroom wall. 

Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice someone walking towards you. It wasn’t until you heard their voice that you looked up. 

“Looks like fate wishes for us to meet again, ma cherie!” 

You couldn’t help the wide smile that pulled at your lips. “Mr. Lyney! Your show was magnificent!” 

Not expecting such high praise, the man laughed softly, his cheeks a rosy red. “T-Thank you!” 

He didn’t know what else to say. Usually, he was adept at making conversation. He had no problem charming his way into the hearts of others, yet whenever he saw you, his words seemed to fail him. 

He cleared his throat. “May I walk you out?” He offered up his arm, which you took almost instantly. 

Your smile never wavered as you linked your arm with his. “Lilia loves magic,” you began, admiring the architecture and decor in the opera house, “she always tells me how she wants to be a magician someday too… or a mage in a mountainside cottage with a cat familiar.” 

Lyney listened closely, a small chuckle leaving his lips. “Sounds imaginative.” 

“It is,” you agreed, “I’ve always nurtured that imagination of hers, and I’ll continue to do so. Children need to be creative and have lots of imagination. That’s something my own mother could not understand.” 

“I want her to know that it’s okay to be more into fantasy things like becoming a mage and living in a cottage, because I know it’s possible. If she sets her heart on that, then she’ll achieve it. I have full faith in her.” 

“You’re a good mother.” Lyney said after a few moments of silence; and he meant it. Another round of silence passed between you as he gathered the courage to ask the question that’s been on his mind ever since he met you a week ago. 

“Is her father in the picture?” He looked down at your left hand, only to see no ring in sight.

You shook your head with a frown. “No. He never was. He didn’t even know about her. We broke up before I found out I was pregnant. But it’s alright, because she has me, and she has her aunt, and that’s all she needs.” 

Lyney hummed. “Sounds like a quaint little family.” 

“We are.” You smiled and let out a sigh as you spotted Erika and Lilia waiting by the Fountain of Lucine. 

Erika noticed you first. Her mouth opened as if she was about to call for you, before her eyes landed on Lyney. A knowing smirk pulled at her lips, and she sent you a wink before turning to distract Lilia. 

Your eye twitched, though you found you didn’t mind her actions. It left you with more time to talk to Lyney. 

“Are you perhaps free this week?” Lyney questioned, a hint of nervousness in his tone. 

You turned to face him. “Well, it depends on the day, but I should be. Fridays tend to be my most free days.” 

You worked at a small cafe in the city three times a week. It wasn’t the best in hours, but the pay was great. It was a step up from your last job, at least. 

A mischievous glint sparkled in Lyney’s eyes. He slipped his arm from yours and brought your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of your hand. “Then I shall see you on Friday at Hotel Debord,” he winked, “It’s a date.” 

You stared after him with your mouth open like a loser, completely taken aback by his forwardness. When you regrouped with Erika and Lilia, your best friend was hounding you with question after question. 

“So? What’d he say!?” 

“I don’t know why you think something happened, we were just talking.” You tried to change the subject, feeling your face heat up in not only embarrassment, but because of the charming magician who caught your eye. 

“Lies!” Erika exclaimed, pointing a finger in your face. “I saw him kiss your hand! That’s not ‘just talking’ to me!” 

You slapped her finger out of your face. “Alright fine! He asked me out, so what?” You crossed your arms over your chest. 

Erika squealed in delight, jumping up and down. She seemed to be more excited about this than you. You could feel your heartbeat race the more you thought about your upcoming date. 

“(Name), I’m so happy for you!” Erika shook your shoulders.

“He– I didn’t want to be with someone anymore,” you said quietly, “I wasn’t planning on it. I just wanted to continue with our little family.” 

Sensing your fear, Erika wrapped you up in a hug. “I know you’re scared to enter the dating scene again, but Lyney seems like a genuinely sweet guy. He’s nothing like he who must not be named. I’ll be here with you every step of the way, okay? I’m right here, like I’ve always been.” 

You hugged her back tightly, shoving your face into her shoulder. “What if he’s not good with Lilia? What if she doesn’t like him?” 

Erika squeezed you. “Are you joking?” she laughed, “do you hear yourself? We’re talking about a man who mostly performs magic shows for children. Have you seen the way he interacts with them? Dare I say that man is ready to have one of his own.” 

A laugh fell from your lips as you thought back to the day you met him. Him and his sister were entertaining your daughter. You could still remember the soft look in their eyes as they spoke with her. 

“You’re right,” you sighed and took hold of Lilia’s hand, “I’ll give him a chance.” 

“That’s the spirit! Let’s get ice cream to celebrate!” Erika shouted, throwing a fist into the air. 

“Ice cream!” Lilia giggled, copying Erika’s actions. 

You watched the two of them race to the aquabus and smiled fondly. “What am I going to do with you two?” 

The week went by smoothly, and with each day that passed, you grew more and more anxious for your date with Lyney. Of course, you were excited, but you were mostly nervous. You haven’t been on a date in years, so you didn’t know how this one would go. You hoped it would be much different from your last one. 

The day before your date, you were working as usual. The sun was beginning to set over the Court of Fontaine, and you were counting down the minutes until you’d be able to clock out and head home to Lilia. You hummed the tune of the song that was currently playing on the cafe’s speakers, Le Souvenir avec le crepuscule, and watched the sky turn into a mix of pinks and oranges. 

Sunsets in the Court of Fontaine were your favorite. Watching the sun fall over the high walls while the cafe played that old tune your grandmother used to sing to you made you feel as if you were living in a fairytale. 

Someone cleared their throat, drawing you out of your stupor. You drew your attention to the customer standing before you. “Apologies for the wait,” you said, “what can I— Oh! Miss Lynette!” 

Standing before you was Lyney’s twin sister and assistant, Lynette. Although the bags under her eyes revealed her exhaustion, her violet eyes sparkled with excitement. She sent you a small, barely noticeable smile. 

“You can drop the formalities. Just Lynette is fine.” She assured you, waving a hand dismissively. “A coffee, please. Just a bit of creamer and one scoop of sugar.” 

You returned her smile and got to work. Humming along to the song on the speakers again, you could feel Lynette’s eyes on you as you worked. It sent a shiver down your spine picturing her calculating gaze in your head. 

Was there something else she wanted? Surely she would’ve already asked for another thing off the menu if that was the case. 

Out of nervousness, you fiddled with the lid to the cup as you brought it to the counter, accidentally spilling some of her hot coffee all over your hand. Crying out in pain, you dropped the cup and clutched your hand. 

Lynette hopped behind the counter at your cry and guided you over to the sink. “Try not to panic.” She gently eased your hand under the faucet. “Keep your hand here for about twenty minutes and keep the water lukewarm.” She instructed, moving away from you. 

Idiot! You scolded yourself. How could you embarrass yourself in front of his sister? And spill her order, of all things!

“Do you have any plant-based ointments at home?” She asked, turning to you with a brand new cup of coffee in her hand. 

You pushed down the feeling of guilt and nodded. “Yes. Lilia has gotten a few burns like this before after I told her not to touch the stove and she did so anyway.” You let out a sigh at the memory. At least she knew not to go and touch things that were hot ever again. 

Lynette let out a soft laugh. “Lyney did that once when we were kids, too. One of our older sisters was cooking, and without thinking, Lyney went up to the stove and grabbed the pot. He cried for a while, and our poor sister was blaming herself for it. Father had always told us not to go near the stove, yet he didn’t listen.”

You let out a loud laugh. “Every child learns. Even we adults learn simple lessons. It’s a part of being human.” 

She hummed in agreement and turned off the faucet. “Thank you for the coffee.” You opened your mouth to protest, when she sent you a sharp look. Understanding the message, you closed your mouth and nodded. 

She let out a content sigh. “I sincerely hope your date with my brother goes well tomorrow.” Ah… So she heard word through the grapevine, did she? “I know he can be a bit much, but he means well. I think you’re just what he needs.” 

If she meant anything by those words, she didn’t elaborate. Instead, she sent you one final smile and left the cafe— not before abruptly stopping to turn around and give you one final message, “Oh, and he asked me to tell you to wear something formal. Have fun.” 

Finding a formal outfit was harder than you initially thought. You couldn’t remember the last time you owned a formal dress or dress suit, and the most “formal” article of clothing you owned was the bridesmaid dress from a friend’s wedding and a sundress that Erika bought you for your birthday while you were still pregnant with Lilia. 

You searched your closet high and low— tearing apart your entire room in the process —to look for anything formal. Yet, you came up empty, and you had approximately two hours before you had to be at Hotel Debord. 

To say you were panicking was an understatement. Erika’s younger sister offered to watch Lilia for you as you and Erika tried to come up with an alternative. 

“I have a ton of formal dresses,” she said, “you know, from all those parties my ex would drag me to? How about one of those?” 

You sent her a look. “Erika, I would not be able to fit into those dresses even if I tried. I lost that ability after having Lilia.” 

“Right, um…” She sent you an apologetic look and hummed in thought. She snapped her fingers. “How about we ask that fashion designer? Chiori, I think? I’m sure she could help!” 

“We have two hours!” You yelled. 

“I’m running out of ideas!” She yelled back defensively.

Now, you were in complete panic mode, pacing around your room with your hands covering your face. “What if I just call it off…” 

Erika’s eyes widened. “No! Are you kidding!? This is your first date in ages, don’t you even dare think about calling it off!” 

She shot up from her spot on your bed and grabbed your shoulders, halting your movements. She squeezed you reassuringly, her expression sincere as she watched tears roll down your cheeks. “We’ll find something, okay? I’m not about to give up, and you shouldn’t either.” 

Bringing you into a tight hug, she revisited her earlier idea. “I have an idea. While I’m gone, you doll yourself up, okay? I shouldn’t be too long.” She grabbed her purse and placed a kiss on your cheek. 

“Don’t worry!” She pointed a finger at you from the doorway. “Erika’s on the case!” 

With a flourish, she slammed the door. 

Finding Lynette was easy. She was occupying a table at the same cafe you worked at, sipping idly on a cup of tea. 

“Miss Lynette!” Erika called, waving a hand in the air as she approached the rather unsociable magician. “Do you have a moment?” 

Lynette sighed disinterestedly. “If you have work related inquiries, please ask Lyney. If you have questions related to seeing a magic show, please ask the ticket office.” 

Erika sat down in the seat next to Lynette. “This isn’t about either. This is about (Name).” 

Lynette’s ears perked up at the mention of your name. “Has something happened?” 

“Not any medical emergencies!” Erika assured. “It’s just… she realized she didn’t have a formal outfit for tonight, and she can’t exactly wear any of my dresses. I was hoping you could pull some strings and get us in with Chiori.”

With another sigh, Lynette opened her mouth. “Please!” Erika quipped, folding her hands together. “I know it’s last minute, but please.” 

A few moments of silence passed. Lynette finished her tea and stood up. “Alright. I’ll try my best, but I can’t guarantee anything.” 

You had just finished doing your hair when the front door to your apartment opened and you heard Erika animatedly talking, followed by two other voices. 

There was a knock on your bedroom door, before Erika swung the door open and beamed at you. You were about to scold her for the intrusion, when the Chiori— famous Inazuman fashion designer Chiori who you always wanted a dress from but you couldn’t afford her services —waltzed in behind her. 

She cringed at the ransacked room. “Ugh, this place looks awful. Did the Gardes run through here?” She clicked her tongue and turned to you. “Stand up, we’re running on— how long again?” 

“An hour.” Erika answered, throwing her purse elsewhere and beginning to clean up your room. 

Lynette entered a moment later, carrying three large boxes. As Erika quickly shoved everything off your bed, Lynette placed the boxes down and opened them. 

Chiori grabbed hold of you and pulled you up from your vanity chair. “Do you mind taking the robe off for me? I need to take your measurements.” 

You did as told and placed your robe on the back of your vanity chair, allowing Chiori to quickly gather your measurements. She hummed in thought, turning to the three boxes sitting on your bed. 

“I brought three sizes. Your usual, a size up, and a size down.” She rummaged through the middle box, pulling out a navy blue dress. “Try this on.” 

She circled you, her eyes calculating as you slipped into the dress and Erika zipped it up in the back. It was flowy, like a ballgown, with a modest front. 

Chiori made a face. “This is atrocious on you. You need something else— something that’ll accentuate your figure and your chest. Strip.” 

She searched through the box on the right, pulling out a blood red dress and handing it to you. “Here. I think this’ll do just that.” 

This dress was a bit looser, but it was perfect. You could freely move your limbs and although it was form-fitting, you could still breathe properly. It cascaded down in a mermaid-like fashion, and there was a slit in the left side of the dress, revealing your thigh. There was lace on the top in a flowery pattern. 

It wasn’t the sort of dress you’d ever wear, but turning to look at yourself in your full length mirror, you gasped as you immediately fell in love with it. 

Chiori smirked smugly. “Now this is perfect. Does the front feel okay?” She tugged at one of the thin straps and pushed the lace down in the front. 

“No, it’s… it’s perfect,” you said breathlessly, placing your hands on your hips. “Are we sure this is me?” 

Erika whistled. “Damn, Lyney’s lucky. And that neckline— your tits have never looked this great! Dare I say this is a baby-making dress, because he’s definitely gonna want to give you another after tonight.” 

You shoved her for that comment. 

Lynette smiled. “You look breathtaking, (Name). Knowing my brother, he’ll be speechless once he sees you. How much time do we have?” 

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Erika cheered. “Five minutes! Just in time! Are there heels to match?” 

“Right here.” 

Chiori pulled a pair of heels out of the box and guided you to your vanity chair. She knelt down, gently taking your calf into her hand and resting your foot on her thigh as slipped your heels on. 

You felt like a princess with all this special treatment. Lynette tugged a black shawl around your shoulders to keep you warm and helped you to your feet. 

Just as you stood up, there was a knock on the front door. Erika squealed, pushing you out of your bedroom. “Now, don’t worry about the mess in your room, I’ll clean it, and Amélia is watching Lilia so there’s no need to worry about her, either.” 

“What about the—“ 

“It’s free of charge,” Chiori interrupted, “I owed Lynette a favor, anyway, since she modeled for me in my last show.” 

You sent her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Chiori. Truly.” 

She sent you a curt nod, though there was a small, barely noticeable smile pulling at her lips.

With a deep breath, you opened the front door, seeing a nervous Lyney standing on the other side. He was wearing a suit, the tie a similar shade of red to your dress, and the hat covered in sparkles. 

He was holding a bouquet of rainbow roses, the same flowers he had given you on your first meeting. As soon as he heard the door open, he looked up, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. His mouth dropped open in shock, and he almost dropped the bouquet in his hands. 

“Mon amour, you look stunning.” He stuttered over his words a little, his cheeks tomato red. 

You felt your cheeks grow warm as he handed you the bouquet. “Thank you. Um… shall we go?” You cleared your throat, handing the flowers off to Erika to put in a vase. 

“Of course.” He offered you his arm, and you took it eagerly. 

The whole night was filled with laughter and wonder, as he continued to surprise you with tricks of charm and awe. He pulled a rose from behind your ear, snapped his fingers and turned the flowers on the table into doves, and turned your cup of juice into wine. 

Being with Lyney felt like you were a teenager again, experiencing young love for the first time. It was invigorating, like free-falling from a mountain peak. 

It was over too quickly. Soon, you had to leave, and he was walking you back home. The streetlamps provided just enough light for you to see in the dark, yet they didn’t outshine the light of the moon over the Court of Fontaine. 

It was a cloudless night. The stars were shining brighter than they have in a long time, and you could’ve sworn you saw a shooting star. Maybe that was just wishful thinking. 

You haven’t seen the sky this clear in years. Has your judgment really clouded your vision this badly? Or has Lyney just brightened up your life without you noticing? 

He bid you farewell at your doorstep, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your hand. As soon as you stepped inside, you were bombarded with questions from Erika. 

The two of you had a sleepover in your room, wherein you talked her ear off the whole rest of the night. 

The weeks came and went, and the more that time passed, the more Lyney had become integrated into your little family. 

First, it was showing up at your workplace unannounced to bring you lunch (a gesture you found incredibly sweet, but unnecessary since you always packed your own). Then, it was the offer to babysit Lilia for you while you were at work. And of course, your daughter was never going to pass up the chance to watch Lyney’s magic tricks. 

After that, it was fighting with Erika as if she were another one of his sisters. As soon as the two of them began to form a friendship, your heart swelled with affection. 

If your best friend approved of him and considered him one of her friends, you knew he was someone worthy of your time. 

Lynette eventually started coming around too, showing up at your apartment for tea parties and even going as far as playing dolls and dress-up with Lilia. Even Freminet, a sweet boy and the twins’ younger brother, was dragged along to your place too. 

Your little family was growing bigger by the day. It was a tad overwhelming to have so many people in your house again after years of only sharing it with two other people, but at the same time, it felt… revitalizing. You had a family once more. 

And then… the fateful day came. 

As you were tucking Lilia into bed, humming her the same lullaby your grandmother once sung to you, she grabbed your hand and began playing with your fingers. 

“Mama?” 

“Yes sweetheart?” You brushed her hair out of her face and handed her her teddy bear. 

“Can Mr. Lyney be my daddy?” 

In pure shock, your mouth fell open and you struggled to form an answer. You knew Lilia had formed an attachment to him, but you weren’t expecting her to outright ask you if he could be her father. 

You wouldn’t mind it. You’d love for him to be her father. He was already helping you care for her, there just wasn’t an official label on your relationship yet. 

“How about you ask him the next time he visits?” You told her, sending her a smile and placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’m sure he’d love to.” 

That’s exactly what she did. The next time Lyney came over to babysit, Lilia asked him the same question she asked you. And just like you, he had been rendered speechless. 

He never answered her question directly. He was way too shocked to do so, but he did take her words into consideration as he sought out his Father. 

Arlecchino was a stoic faced woman who wasn’t  exactly the best caretaker, but she was making it work in her own way. Although some of her methods of parenting were unusual, they ultimately helped her children prepare for the outside world and to stay unwavering in their resolve. 

She wasn’t forthcoming with her affection for her children. There were roundabout ways she went about showing it, often through gifts. She wasn’t exactly a loving Father nor a parental figure her children needed, but she was enough for them. For now, at least. 

There was a compassion underneath her hard exterior, though it was never obvious with her words. She preferred to let her actions speak for her. 

And by giving the ring her old lover once owned over to Lyney, that same compassion revealed itself. “I wish you luck in your endeavors,” she said, a hint of sincerity peeking through in her voice, “but I hope you understand that by extension, you will be dragging your newfound family into our affairs.” 

Lyney’s frown deepened. “I know. But (Name) is already aware of this, and we had a serious talk about it. She understands.” 

Arlecchino stared at him, her gaze unwavering. “And her daughter?” 

He stiffened. “I don’t want Lilia to be a part of our work. She shouldn’t have to deal with that burden. She deserves a normal childhood.” 

“I trust you will tell her when she’s old enough, then.” 

With a nod, Lyney swallowed the lump in his throat. “I will. Just… not now. She’s too young.” 

Arlecchino let out a satisfied sigh and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Then I give you my blessing.” 

That was all he needed to hear before he bolted out the door, his heart racing with excitement as he ran to you and Lilia.

To home.

notes: the parts with chiori were by far my favorite to write. also, the dress i was picturing was the red version of this one (but in a bigger size obvi). i think we as a society need to appreciate mom bods more. we as a society need to appreciate all body types more. also shoutout to single mothers who do everything they can to make their child(ren) happy while also taking care of themselves too. i have sm respect for them.

© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[lishens]

ʚɞ ⁺ ˖ ⸝⸝ ꒰⠀THE APPLE OF HIS EYE⠀꒱

He leans forward, resting his forehead against hers and breathes in what she breathes out. Caleb can be content with just this, he thinks. But even the snake was never content with just watching Eve frolic in the garden. What more of a mere man like him?

pseudo-incest. fem!reader is a virgin. dubious consent. caleb has an obvious thing for being the big brother in this dynamic. slight guilt. overuse of endearments and the term "girl" when it comes to describing reader. mild nipple play. fingering. pussydrunk!caleb. praise. slight mean!caleb.

“Why do you look at me like that?” It is a question that comes softly, almost sweetly from the girl perched above his lap. Caleb feels his heart swell, almost to the point of aching. She is his entire world, has been upon first sight as nothing more than children, but in this closeness where the space between them is almost nonexistent? Caleb can barely resist the urge to press his lips all over her face, leaving a mark on her in the same way she did with him.

All he does is smile, arms around her waist tightening like he cannot bear to part. In the silence inside his mind, he can admit freely that he will never survive without her. Everyone would say that it is a given, after all, they are siblings.

With their grandmother now gone, they only have each other to rely on. Family is where one must draw strength, their love and support the energy necessary to keep an individual going. But not like this, Caleb knows that much. Brothers do not lust after their sisters, should not want them in the way a man wants a woman. But he does. By all the stars above, he does.

A sharp inhale, letting the scent of her fill his lungs, then a whisper, “you’re just the prettiest thing I have ever seen.” An understatement, if there ever is one. Even goddesses in the heavens cannot compare.

The love that he has for his little sister is an immoral thing that would be sickening to any other. Caleb knows and understands, but he would rather sink into depravity than let go of her, of his feelings, and the hold that he has on her. It is only by small mercies, fate looking upon him kindly, that she never pushes him away.

He leans forward, resting his forehead against hers and breathes in what she breathes out.

Caleb can be content with just this, he thinks. But even the snake was never content with just watching Eve frolic in the garden. What more of a mere man like him?

The sound of her small exhalation laced with far too much affection fills him with life, it makes him move closer, their breaths mingling until they are breathing the same air — like he is a man drawn to her by some inexplicable thread. He is, and he always will be. “Am I?” She dares to ask, like she is not the most beautiful thing in his world, the only thing that lightens his days. She dares to ask, like the answer is not in the way his eyes can never be far from where she is, like it is not obvious how he gets tongue-tied in her presence, like his devotion can ever be questioned when it comes to her.

“Of course,” he whispers, lips curving into a smile. Warmth floods his very marrows, like liquid light and liquid love combined. A hand travels from her waist, to the side of her ribs, then to her jaw. He stares at her, the sun of his universe, and dares to caress the skin beneath her eye.

They are so close that Caleb feels like weeping, it has been so long since they have been this intimate, the only kind of intimacy he will ever get from his sister. It is enough, it has to be enough.

It is not enough.

They have always been a ticking time bomb, one wrong spark and they explode like a house of cards, of false families and relation threads that they never agreed to, crumbling down to ashes.

“Sweet enough to make my head spin,” comes the soft murmur, leaning in to press a kiss on the corner of her lips. Caleb wants to say more and do more, to confess how he truly feels, but something holds him back — society, expectations, the rules he created to keep himself in check. But his restraint is rapidly fraying, a noose choking his neck. “My darling girl, my pretty girl.”

His heart beats like the fluttering of a hummingbird’s wings, each throb echoing the truth of his words. He loves her like he loved no other, like he will love no other. It is her or no one at all.

A muffled noise, the sound of pure delight. Caleb hears her laugh and wants to bottle the sound, keep it safe forever. “Yours?” She asks in a small voice, hesitance in the way she looks at him, and something in him just shatters.

She can doubt the rest of the world, but she must never doubt his feelings.

It is a question that does not require an answer, his constant presence beside her speaking for itself, but he needed her to understand how much she means to him. “You are,” Caleb confirms, voice low and almost stern. He captures her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it upwards so they can stare into each other’s eyes and she sees the truth of his words. There is no room for doubt in his heart, his mind, and his soul.

“Really?” She asks, like she cannot believe that she is so precious to her big brother. Her eyes are wide, almost in awe at the mere thought of his need to possess her.

The lines begin to blur, brother and sister, man and woman — a yearning heart to another heart that wants. But maybe, they have been blurred since the very beginning. Maybe, they have always been doomed, their fates written in a way that they will be made to devour each other one way or another.

“Really,” he insists, a hint of frustration seeping into the tone. Caleb leans forwards, having to take a deep breath to calm himself. “Foolish girl, you have to understand,” he trails off, the words not rising, struggling to find the correct ones — the ones that will speak the truth of the enormity of his feelings. How can he ever dare speak of what he feels without scaring her? How can he ever convey them in a way that is enough, that encompasses all that he feels when no words seem suitable? A long pause, having to take a deep breath that sounds loud as a bang in the tension between them. “You have always been mine, not my sister, never as my sister. You have always been the sun in my universe, the bright star in which I revolve around. I’m nothing without you, the life inside of me cannot exist without your presence. I am yours, just as much as you are mine.”

Silence ensues, his eyes desperate to see anything from her features — it can be hatred, disgust, anger. Anything, anything at all. He dares not to hope, not when his feelings do not require to be returned.

“Caleb,” she begins, tone soft and gentle like soothing a spooked animal, and he feels his breath get caught in his lungs. “Caleb, I love you. I have always loved you and it scared me sometimes.”

A sigh of disbelief comes falling, then joy. An overwhelming sense of relief soon washes over him at the admission as it finally sinks into his mind what she just said. Hope surges upwards, overtaking all of his sense of reason. He holds her cheeks between gentle palms, thumbs rubbing gently on the warm skin.

“Hush, it’s okay to be scared,” he coos, tucking a stray strand behind her ear, keeping his touch soft and careful. “But you have to trust in me, in us. Can you do that for me, sweet girl?”

Sharp gaze tracks the way she bites on her bottom lip, considering his request. It is obvious how terrified she is by this change, but also incredibly tempted. It is new territory, but not only for her, also for Caleb. Her trust in him wins out in the end, her head nodding once then twice, shaky hands reaching to hold on to his shoulders. “Yeah, I think— I think I can, b-but I don’t know how.”

Relieved, he leans in much closer until their lips are barely a hair's breadth from one another. “Just follow my lead, okay?” The tone of his voice is low, reassuring. Palm moving from her cheek down to her throat, trapping it in his grip in a gentle hold. Caleb presses his thumb right above her pulse, just to feel her heartbeat against his skin. It is not even a want, it is a need.

He soon tilts her head upwards, letting their lips meet in a tender press.

The world turns quiet, and he can almost weep from the joy just one kiss can bring him. The guilt exists in the periphery, but it is easily ignored in favour of her skin against his.

How can he ever think of anything else when he has her on his lap like this?

Caleb pours all of his love, his desires, into the kiss in hopes that she can feel the depths of his feelings. His teeth scrape the plush brim, tugging on it just to hear her whine, and whine she does. A low groan comes in response, his hand moving even further downwards to pull her even closer, a bruising grip on her hips.

He wants to devour her, to consume her entirely, but this is new for the both of them and he does not want to overwhelm her.

Fraying control makes Caleb move gentler, more coaxing than demanding. A sensual rhythm that cares not for her inexperience, just wanting her to enjoy the act of kissing him, of feeling all his love.

Breaking the kiss just enough to catch his breath, he pulls away from her mouth to look at her with hunger, pupils dilated as he marvels at how she responds. “Pretty fucking thing,” he hisses, more to himself than to her. The hardness of his arousal pressing insistently between her legs, evidence of his growing need.

“You make me feel things,” she trails off, looking away from Caleb as she struggles to find the right words, “things I never felt before.”

The heat on her cheeks seems to further warm from embarrassment at how wanton she appears. It makes him warm inside, even more when she does not dare pull away, does not dare break the intimate connection of their bodies. “I know what you mean, it’s nothing I’ve ever felt before either.”

His hands start to wander, slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to caress the skin of her lower back. Caleb marvels at her softness, the warmth of her flesh. Slowly, and with utmost care, he begins to move his hands higher to map the contours of her body; lips trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat. When she squirms, he makes shushing noises, “it’s okay, we can take our time.” But he still tugs her shirt off, exposing the bare expanse of her torso.

The sight of the swell of her breasts, peeking above the neckline of her bra, makes his mouth turn dry and he has to swallow hard.

“Gods,” he croaks out, instinctively leaning forward to mouth at her collarbone. “You’re so gorgeous, prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”  Caleb’s palm moves to cup her breast, sliding underneath the pad of her bra to brush his thumb over her nipple, watching with delight as she twitches in response.

Impatient, he pushes her bra down until it bunches around her waist. Surging forward, he takes a nipple into his mouth without care for her squirming. He suckles on it gently, teasing the bud with his tongue at the same time his fingers pinch and twist the other. Free hand travels down her stomach, dipping into the waistband of her shorts to explore the dripping folds of her core.

He can already tell how wet she is, how ready she is to take him.

“Oh, baby,” he coos. “You’re so messy.”

It is a mockery, and Caleb can feel how much she likes his words by the way she practically flutters around his fingers. Dirty girl, he thinks to himself. The digits trace the slit, moving them back and forth until his fingertips are soaked with her arousal before rubbing tight circles on her sensitive little nub just to hear her sing.

“Just let go, baby. Feel everything for me, hm? Don’t think, let me take care of you.”

He slides a finger, just one, curling it to hit that spot that makes her see stars. When she wails, tears pricking her pretty eyes, Caleb cannot resist the urge to grin. “Found it,” and it is with relentless attention that he moves his hand back and forth, never letting more than two knuckles be free from her heat.

She thrashes above his lap, trembling from the overwhelming sensation assaulting all her senses. A sharp cry echoes in their living room, salty wetness dripping down her cheeks as she struggles to breathe through the intensity. Every single time Caleb pulls his finger back, he watches as she gasps and shakes her head. “It’s too much,” she weeps. “I can’t— I can’t!”

Instead of stopping, Caleb only laughs meanly. All his vows of treating her gently had flown out of the window the moment he felt her tight cunt around his finger.

“No, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of her eye, tasting her tears. “It’s not too much. Trust me, okay? Trust your big brother to take care of you.” It is those words that send her falling over the edge, soaking his lap with her release as she cums with a strangled cry.

Coaxing her gently through the aftershocks, he soon brings his fingers to his mouth. Caleb smiles sweetly, before licking her arousal clean off of his fingers.

“Delicious.”

He cannot wait to feel her cunt wrap around his cock. This is his reward for being patient, it is what he deserves, and Caleb will never let her go.

© lishens ( 2024 ): do not claim, modify, copy or repost my works without permission. minors do not interact.

[tsunael]

wolcred week |  1. 'the first.'

They all knew it was coming. Either their brightest star would claim the last of the Light, or the Light would claim her.

What were they to do but careen to their inevitable deaths? He had sacrificed one lamb for another, and now a third was to be laid upon the butcher's block. How many must die so that another might live?

He would not forget the sight of the woman before him, holding her outstretched hands aloft as the curtain of Light parted one last time to reveal the night sky in all her glory. Menphina smiled down in a smirk of a crescent for their efforts, and just as she had appeared, was the curtain drawn once again.

He didn’t need an aetherometer to see that Tsuna was suffused– the aether was thick, cloying enough to be seen. The ewer of her body failed to contain it, finally splitting at the seams for a means of escape.

Their ascian friend dealt the final blow. The Exarch, in his well-meaning duplicity, left for dead. And then Tsuna slumped to the ground, just as lifeless.

He ought to be angry– furious– for Urianger’s joint deception, for his own empty hands, or for the cards Sister Fate had dealt them time and time again, but the queer feeling roiling within him was not one of anger, but of fear. He stood there, powerless, shaking to his core whilst the twins rushed to Tsuna’s aid alongside Ryne.

Even Minfilia could not wholly extinguish the Light– she could only freeze it in time– and as Ryne sank to her knees beside the supine woman in hopes of doing the same, he could only watch in abject horror.

“Give her room,” he barked, though the twins were undeserving of his ire as he approached. They still took a collective step back.

Brilliant white blood readily trickled from Tsuna’s nose, and by way of her laboured breathing it was evident that she was being torn apart by a force of which a layman could not hope to see. Something within Tsuna was stirring, whether it was brought about by her own will, or by Ryne’s suppression, he couldn’t know.

It began first in her hands as they twitched and grasped for purchase, then her spine as it coiled. Her eyes snapped open, hungry and searching, as she lunged for the Oracle’s throat in hopes of supping upon the wellspring.

Thancred fell to his knees, wrestling the woman onto her back as an inhuman screech tore from her throat. “Don't stop!”  he cried out, harsh with concerted effort. There was an unnatural strength burgeoning within her tiny frame that even as a man grown he struggled to contend with, and if Ryne did not finish the ritual, it would swallow them whole.

Ryne was shaken, but nothing if not determined. The power flowed through her once more, and Tsuna’s struggles came to a head. She thrashed upon the ground against his weight, spitting blood, and gnashing teeth. She would bite her tongue if it kept up-- he could barely hold her steady long enough for Ryne to work in her magicks. 

“In our lifetime, please!” 

"I'm trying!" "Ryne made a frustrated growl of effort as a bead of sweat rolled down her cheek. The very aether about them seemed to compress, tangible enough that even he could feel it become leaden as it coalesced.

Tsuna cried out one last time, waning to a whine as she pushed wildly against his arms, seizing. Her legs writhed as if a sudden, great pain knifed through her. And then all was silent. 

Ryne immediately flagged, catching herself on the marble. Her power had all but been exhausted whilst he held the aftermath limp in his arms. Y’shtola and Urianger had begun to crowd about, to inquire, to plan, to move, but all he could do was hold the small woman in his arms, and pray to the Twelve, unseen, that the Light did not break through once again whilst their last bastion was too weak to hold.

“Ryne,” he called, softly, intently. Apology was writ together in his tone. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, though he knew she waned, looking close to tears from it all.

He swallowed thickly, realising he shared in the sentiment. 

Adjusting Tsuna’s body in his arms, he felt just how cold she had grown. They needed a chirurgeon's assistance, and to get off this Godsforsaken rock, but more than that they needed a miracle. His hands would not stop trembling.

“Ryne, you know that I would not deign to ask a favour of you.” He breathed for a long moment, hanging his head low in penance. “Gods–” He swore. “You have to help her. I– We can’t lose her to this.”

Ryne stared back at him, having caught her breath, eyes wide, and glassy. She was searching him for something he couldn't know.

She opened her mouth, before aborting the question. Finally, she pursed her lips, looking uneasy in a way that only managed to make him feel worse. 

“I’ll do what I can,” she whispered, and he had no choice but to believe.

[yandere-romanticaa]

🍂 tear you apart.

❝ i want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart. as i whisper in your ear - i want to fucking tear you apart. ❞

yandere! various! ghostface! characters x gn! reader.

inspired by the song "tear you apart" by she wants revenge.

just a compilation of characters that i think would be interesting for this. happy friday the 13th!

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 ! (genshin impact.)

After years of training and endless carnage, it's only natural for a person to develop specific tastes for the darker aspects of life. Battle and blood were Childe's bread and butter but due to his friendly and frankly charming exterior no one could tell that the young man was a ruthless killer.

Provided that he hides his Harbinger status that is.

There were times when his status was a hastle but there were always some perks, always some string for him to pull and make everything go in the way he wanted them to go. Sometimes, that would include people.

But now, that included you.

Upon first meeting him there was an addictive and boyish charm to the ginger haired man and he had you completely wrapped around his fingers. His pockets were deep but so was his heart and frankly, how dare you just steal it? How dare you be so careless? Don't get him wrong, he wasn't mad per say but he still wanted to teach you a lesson or two, just to make it all stick to your feeble little mind.

He started with your neighbors first.

Childe watches comfortably from high above, hidden away in a tea shop as natives of Liyue Harbor scamper back to their homes as darkness nears. A serial killer is on the loose and the shop owner in which Childe was in had no idea that he just served the man responsible for the deaths of 3 different families. He sipped his tea with content, his heart pounding with excitement. The blade in his pocket was itching for its next victim but he had to be patient.

Patience was a virtue after all.

And once he was done, he was going to claim his prize.

In the meantime, he was going to be nothing less than a sweet and doting friend who was just worried for you. It was only a matter of time when you would fall into his greedy hands and you didn't even know it.

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐆𝐎𝐋 ! (bungo stray dogs.)

Meeting him was not by choice but you were bound by fate, or so the clown liked to tease.

He stopped you on the street in order to show you a card trick. It was simple but it did the job, he impressed you even if just barely. You'd sigh and turn your head but Nikolai did not fail to see the blush on your cheeks.

He was a man on a mission. Why not indulge himself, just for a little bit?

The public always was fond of a good show and why not give them one in the form of a crazy mass murderer? Donning on a mask and a long black cape his escapade began, his ability was so useful for this.

However, you were always his favorite target.

It started out small, at first. He would use his ability to touch you and to steal your things, particularly if he knew you were alone at home. Seeing that confused expression on your face became a past time of his. His fingers would brush against your cheeks, his touch barely there, like a wandering phantom. Sometimes he would be bolder and press his hand gently against your ribs, maybe even be cheeky and smack your behind ever so playfully.

After a few weeks of this song and dance, watching wasn't enough.

You answered his first call, which pleased him greatly. He gave you impossible riddles and forced you to answer humiliating and degrading questions, all under the threat that he was in your house and was going to kill you lest you complied.

Of course, he had no intentions of doing that. Perhaps he would one day. But for now, he would continue to paint the streets crimson with blood and make you squirm in your seat.

It became his reason for living.

𝐊𝐀𝐅𝐊𝐀 & 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 ! (honkai star rail.)

Ah, these two psychos. Where do I start?

Their plans are at first glance, all over the place. Attacks are random and they do not necessarily always go for the big fish too. Sometimes it's a poor street vendor who was just doing their job but his life meant nothing in the end.

Kafka was the main mastermind. Blade was the one who did most of the dirty work.

Her plans were meticulous, deadly. She would come crawling to you from the shadows, her jacket draped over your shoulders as she'd coo into your ear, her face bloody from her latest victim as she toyed with her mask, a carefree smile on her face. You couldn't see him but Blade was also behind you, his presence was impossible to miss. He was large and imposing, like a phantom that couldn't find peace.

Could you perhaps give him something that he couldn't have? If he can't have you in life, can he have you in death?

There was no escaping them, never ever. Dare to try and there would be consequences.

They were so in love with you to the point of madness. The question was - were they going to keep you alive and leashed or were they just that insane to stab you in the heart?

If they can't have you, no one can.

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 ! (Moriarty the Patriot.)

The streets of London are filled to the brim with gossip and paranoia as the Lord of Crime made his move the previous evening, slaughtering yet another poor noble in his family home. The papers reported that his own children found the corpse, the poor little things.

You hurried to show William the morning paper, morbidly curious about his opinion on this.

Said man could be found lounging about in a cushy, plush red love seat, a hot cup of tea served in front of him by none other than his brother. The two were lost in their own chatter until you abruptly stopped them. Like a sudden storm you pounced on William, his red eyes widening in shock as he tried to calm you down with a sweet smile on his face. You bombarded him with endless questions - who could do something like this, why was it this messy, was the killer sending a message? - all of it came out at such lightning speed that William didn't really understand half of what you said.

It was wrong to corner him like this and let out your frustrations on the man this early in the morning. You knew every single person that died in these past few weeks, all of which were either minor annoyances or massive obstacles in your day to day life.

When it came down to it, their only connection was with you.

Was the police going to come knocking at your door? It was possible! You had no involvement with the crimes but it was incredibly suspicious how everything was connected, like a spiderweb that was being crafted day by day.

It was difficult for William to keep his smirk concealed that morning.

Hours had passed since that interaction and he was back at it, his new victim. He incorporated the fact that you were most likely going to be incriminated in this scheme but it was still in his best interest. It was not difficult to tamper with evidence and blackmail people if need be and best of all, you would always come running to him, scared and worried, for both yourself and the people around you. It was beyond precious how you tell him to not go after sun down, how you made sure to check to see if he was injured or ill.

If you kept doting him like this, he might just slit the throat of every single person that steps foot into London.

[bullet-prooflove]

5000 Follower Celebration: Death In A Tarot Card - Duke Crocker x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @of-mice-and-mirth @bunnybarnes1917 @princessmermaid1289 @jeysbae

Companion piece to:

The Finder - Haven has away of giving you what you need even when you don't know what you're looking for.

The List - Duke makes a list of the reasons you should stay with him.

Baggage - You coax Duke to tell you about his baggage.

Everything (NSFW) - You are everything to Duke.

Love Bite - Duke loves wearing the marks of your love.

Another (NSFW) - Duke wants to make sure you forget any other man.

Come Home - Duke travels to Nova Scotia to bring you home.

Layby - Duke and you take a moment in the aftermath of everything that's happened.

Stars (NSFW) - You and Duke spend a night under the stars.

Duke hasn’t told you about the tarot card, the one that he keeps tucked in the visor of his Jeep because he doesn’t want you find it on the Cape Rouge.  

When Elspeth had handed it to him, he had laughed because the Death card, it never really means what it says but then he’d seen the look in her eyes and he realised her Trouble, it’s a lot more literal than most.

“How long?” He had asked her.

“Months at most.” She’d said as her fingers traced over the illustration of his death sentence. “The cards, they don’t tend to draw these things out.”

When he makes it back to the Rouge that night, he doesn’t say anything when he steps through the door, he simply kisses you and that kiss…

It’s everything to him in that moment and Duke, he knows exactly what he has to do.

When you wake up the next morning, it’s to a cup of Earl Grey on the nightstand and an engagement ring on his pillow case. It’s an antique piece, silver with onyx stones set into the clasps. You smile as he takes your hand and places it on your finger.

“Will you?” He asks, his voice a little rough as he looks into your eyes.

“Of course.” You grin, your hands threading through his hair as you draw him back down into bed with you. He spends the morning inside you, making you sure you know exactly how much he loves you before he falls asleep tangled up in the sheets.

It’s a couple of hours later you slip away. You hop into his Jeep with the intention of heading to that bakery he likes when you pull down the visor to block out the sun and you find that tarot card and in that moment everything just falls into place.

You take your own out of your bag and study it alongside his.

Two years ago when you rolled into Haven, you’d found yourself in Elspeth’s shop and she’d given you your own tarot card. The Lovers.

“You’re going to meet man.” She’d told you as she pushed the card towards you. “A rogue and you’re going to fall in love with him, he’s going to give you a home right here on the water and for a time you’ll be happy, the happiest you’ve ever been.”

You’d met Duke Crocker the very next day, ended up living with him on the Cape Rouge.

It’s only now as you recall those words that you realise how temporary they sound.

You wonder if Elspeth had known Duke’s fate when she’d given your own card, if she’d known it would end in tragedy. You sigh as you tuck your card in alongside Duke’s underneath the elastic in the visor.

Whatever comes, the two of you, you’ll handle it together, just like a husband and wife should.

Love Duke? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[longwuzhere]

My Adventures with Superman Season 2 Easter Eggs

Welcome back everyone! Here we are season 2 of My Adventures with Superman! What a fantastic first two episodes and as usual they're full of fun Easter eggs which I will point out and explain to those who aren't familiar so you can be in the know with the comics book readers! My Easter eggs lists for season 1 is here if you haven't seen it!

My season 2 episode 2 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 3 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My season 2 episode 4 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 5 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 6 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 7 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My season 2 episode 8 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 9 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 10 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 3 post is here

Spoilers if you haven't seen the episode

Starting things off MAwS's Season 2 episode 1 title is a reference to Shakesspeare's Hamlet where Hamlet is speaking to Horatio and says this line about how you gotta see it to believe it essentially. In my opinion in terms of the show I read it as we and the MAwS cast are gonna be seeing a lot of wilder things in space and on Earth.

After the title we see Jimmy flaunting his wealth around giving the Daily Planet employees Valentines day cards after selling his social media site Flamebird to the Planet. Clark gets one and talks about his planned date with Lois and Cat Grant interrupts him saying that date is such a bore. I explained Flamebird here and talked about Cat Grant here.

After, Perry White enters the scene complaining how Vicki Vale of the Gotham Gazette is always one step ahead of the Planet reporting on huge news. I talked about Vicki Vale here.

Lois, after waking up from a nap, mentions to Perry about a weird meteorite that landed in the Antarctic. She names drops her STAR Labs friend Hank. Later when the gang meet we learn that he's married. From those clues we can conclude this is Hank Henshaw.

Hank Henshaw in the comics makes his first appearance as an astronaut in Adventures of Superman #465 (1990) [W&P: Dan Jurgens, I: Art Thibert, C: Glenn Whitmore L: Albert DeGuzman]. He and his crew meet their unfortunate fates in the next issue as each crew member is hit with radiation in space causing their bodies to change. One member is turned to stone and gravel and bits from the wreckage of the ship when it crashed back to Earth, another's body turns to radiation, Terri, Hank's wife later learns that her body is phasing into a different dimension. She's saved but Hank 's body later decays rapidly. Doesn't all this sound Fantastically Four-miliar?

Hank Henshaw would later return in the Reign of the Supermen storyline as Cyborg Superman after Clark's death at the hands of Doomsday in Adventures of Superman #500 (1993) [W&P: Dan Jurgens, I: Doug Hazelwood, C: Glenn Whitmore, L: John Costanza]. How Hank returned and got this wild mechanical Superman body I wont say but I do recommend reading Adventures of Superman #466-468, the Death of Superman, A World Without Superman, and the Reign of the Supermen story arcs to find out. Will this also happen to Hank in MAwS? Who knows? Only time will tell

Lois name drops the DC universe's most famous laboratory and research center, S.T.A.R. Labs. You may have first heard about it from the CW DC shows. S.T.A.R Labs conducts a variety of experiments from space travel to technology and they usually are the superheroes' go-to when it comes to lab analysis. The research center makes it's first appearance in Superman #246 (1971) [W: Len Wein, P: Curt Swan, I: Murphy Anderson] where Superman scoops up some plankton and algae for them in the panel.

Jimmy in the scene before they meet Hank name drops Amazo Tech. I talked more about the company and the former CEO here.

As the MawS trio go to Antartica to check out the meteorite, which turns out to be a Kryptonian spaceship, Clark has another meeting with his father who tells him "oh yeah you have a cousin that my brother Zor-El launched to space to be safe cuz of the Kryptonian bullshittery we did" (I'll explain that later). Anyways Kara!

Kara Zor-El makes her first appearance in Action Comics #252 (1959) [Cover Art by Curt Swan and Al Plastino] where like her cousin was sent to space in a rocket ship to save herself after her part of Krypton was miraculously remained intact but meteors destroyed the lead shielding that Zor-El made to protect his people from the Kryptonite that was still present on their part of Krypton. Zor-El and his wife, Alura In-Zee, (she gets named much later) also made their first appearances in the same comic as Supergirl's debut. Kara has died in Crisis on Infinite Earths, had others taken up that mantle until her reappearance in Superman/Batman #8 (2004), and since then has made a name for herself in the pop culture zeitgeist with her appearances in the DCAU, my first introduction to her, the animated movies, her CW show, and in the movies! I highly recommend checking out Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow. Its got a killer story by Tom King and BEAUTIFUL ART by Bilquis Evely and Mat Lopes!

Jor-El tells Clark about the Kryptonians getting their ass handed to them by lasers going in sharp angles you know "oh shit you do not fuck with Darkseid!"

Darkseid, created by the legendary comic artist Jack Kirby, is the ultimate evil in the DC universe and makes his first appearance in the comics in Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen #134 (1970) [W&P: Jack Kirby, I: Vince Coletta]. Darkseid is everything that Jack Kirby hated about fascism rolled into one character. He's after the Anti-Life Equation, the ultimate formula that will break all of free will and force everyone to bow down to Darkseid's will. He's often seen fighting the New Gods, Justice League, or even Superman solo. The angled laser comes from Darkseid's Omega Beams where he shoots it out from his eyes and they will follow you until it hits their target bending around anything and anyone to get to you as seen here in this cover of Justice League #23.1: Darkseid (2013) by Ivan Reis, Joe Prado, and Alex Sinclair):

Based on that tiny bit of teasing in that scene I cant wait for the MAwS crew introduce him. Also shout out to the them for including the little Kirby crackles when the Kryptonian's got vaporized that was a nice bit of detail to honor Jack Kirby's most famous drawing technique!

As Jor-El and Clark have some catching up to do, Lois and Jimmy are attack by the robots in the ship and you might recognize the symbol on them as the symbol of Brainiac. I talked more about him here also that one Kryptonian from the finale of season 1 shows up again at the end of the episode. No confirmation on if its Zod or not but there is a good chance its Zod imo at least.

As our heroes encounter Task Force X (I talked more about them and Amanda Waller here), Amanda Waller is talking to one of her new super soldiers, Damage who we see can grow into a hulking size. This is a reference to...

Ethan Avery, aka Damage from the New Age of Heroes initiative from DC post-Dark Nights Metal where his first appearance was in Dark Nights Metal: The Casting #1 (2017). Ethan was a former soldier in the US Army who volunteered for the Damage program and was given the serum to turn him into the giant Hulk pastiche we see here on the textless cover of Damage #7 (2018) by Tony S. Daniel, Danny Miki, and Tomeu Morey. As Damage, Ethan was not able to control his actions for one hour and would go on a rampage against militant groups for US Army missions. Here in MAwS, we can see some of Damage's comic design be invoked in the cartoon with the giant hulking body MAwS has, the dark arms, and pants. very subtle but it works.

As the chaos from the fight subsides, we see the former spaceship transform itself and the surrounding ice into this crystalline superstructure and what famous isolated fortress looking building in the Antarctic in Superman lore does that bring to mind? THE FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE!

The Fortress of Solitude that pop culture knows made its first appearance in Action Comics #241 (1958) [Cover art by Curt Swan and Stan Kaye]. Superman in the Golden Age had a "Secret Sanctuary" in the outskirts of Metropolis on a mountain top in Superman #17 (1942), but it wasn't until the 1950s where the Fortress of Solitude was relocated to the Arctic which is shown here. The location gets changed again to the Antarctic post-Crisis on Infinite Earths. Superman would have other Fortresses of Solitude in other locations like the Bermuda Triangle, which is the latest or the Arctic again. Superman would usually keep things pertaining to his Kryptonian culture in the fortress like the Phantom Zone Projector or the bottled city of Kandor. Based on what we're seeing in MAwS it seems like they'll be setting this up as a new place for Clark to get in touch with his Kryptonian heritage.

What a fun first episode! Can't wait to see what the future episodes will have! So excited to return to My Adventures with Superman! My season 2 episode 2 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 3 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My season 2 episode 4 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 5 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 6 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 7 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My season 2 episode 8 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 9 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 10 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 3 post is here and if you missed it my Season 1 Easter eggs list is here

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for August 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ I've been here for days by @justanothershadeofblue [E, 18k, OT5]

Somewhere in the desert, a man is called by God to raise up a righteous generation, to bring forth the kingdom from his own seed and the wombs of his omegas.

He will do it by any means necessary.

A series in six parts. Part 1 of Keep Holding Me This Way

＊ i'm going out tonight by @disgruntledkittenface [M, 3k, Harry/Louis]

Louis hasn’t been appreciating his boyfriend Harry. He only realizes it when Harry takes matters into his own hands. Inspired by Bejeweled by Taylor Swift.

＊ And I'm Okay (with what i'm not) by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa [T, 6k, Louis/Harry]

“So, speaking of steamy scenes.” The interviewer, Harry had already forgotten his name again, gestured with his mod cards between Harry and his co-star, Sam. “With all the intimacy going on on-set, was there ever a time that continued… off-camera?” He winked at the camera.

OR 3 times people make assumptions about Harry's sex life and the 1 time he snaps

＊ Gotta Feeling by @allwaswell16 [T, 2k, Harry/Louis]

When Harry's life in Manchester isn't turning out the way he thought it would, he decides to visit his best friend in Mexico City. Maybe Niall can convince him to move halfway around the world.

＊ HOT TO GO! by @allwaswell16 [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

When Harry does something weird at the barricade, he leaves Louis’ show devastated and hoping he can somehow make things right.

Or the accidental pervert fic

＊ Let the Feeling Last by @allwaswell16 [T, 5k, Harry/Louis]

Omega Harry thinks the alpha at the grocery store buying a cart full of vegetables must be an amazing chef. He doesn't know that Alpha Louis is feeding all those vegetables to his pet pig.

＊ Stars over Amsterdam by @hellolovers13 [T, 4k, Louis/Harry]

Louis remembers how stressed they were, trying to get tickets at all. The waiting for the email with the code, which only Louis got, the actual On-sale. How Harry stood behind him, peeling at his nails nervously. Trying not to distract Louis.

But it had all gone smoothly and he had gotten the tickets within just a few minutes.

Harry had jumped around Louis’s chair in excitement like a bouncing ball. Already starting to plan their outfits.

A gold fringe dress for Harry, Fearless was his favourite album, after all, and a matching shirt he had found online for Louis. So people could tell right away they were an item.

That was their plan. Before it all went to shit.

or Fate in form of Eras Tour tickets forces Louis to meet up with his Ex.

Hopefully soon to be Ex-Ex.

＊ Stronger Than the Tide by @haztobegood [G, 3k, Harry & Louis]

The time Louis had spent talking with Harry in the cave had flown by. He was still unsure where the time had gone. Maybe it was because this was the first real connection Louis had made in years. Love and sex did not interest Louis, and it became harder to find good friends.

It was different with Harry. Their conversation flowed effortlessly without pressing for more. Despite the hours they spent together in the cave, Louis wanted to keep talking, to share more of himself, and to learn more about Harry. He hoped their paths would cross again soon.

＊ The Grundy County Drag Show Incident by @haztobegood [T, 3k, Zayn/Liam]

The instrumental opening of Beyoncé’s Halo filled the bar, and the crowd clapped in time to the beat. Holding a wireless mic in her gloved hand, Veronica Stardust owned the stage. She was one of the most vocally talented drag queens in the Midwest. Harry and Louis had seen this act a few times before and were always blown away at the power of her voice. Liam, however, was just experiencing it for the first time. He didn’t know what was yet to come. Part 2 of Grundy County Incidents

＊ Porcupine by sweetkalachuchi / @neverforpickles [E, 82k, Louis/Harry]

Louis, a broke omega librarian, finds his quiet life in Vienna turned upside down when he meets a charming four-year-old boy named Venus, who insists that Louis is his "Mama." When Venus's father, Harry—a powerful and dangerous mafia leader—offers Louis a lucrative job as the boy's full-time nanny, Louis steps into a world where love and danger are deeply intertwined.

As Louis grows closer to Harry and Venus, he discovers the perilous secrets of Harry's underworld life. Their unexpected connection sparks a passionate romance, but with Harry's enemies closing in, Louis must navigate a treacherous path where his heart and life are at risk. This is a thrilling tale of love, danger, and the irresistible pull of two souls drawn together against all odds.

＊ Miracles At Sunsets by sweetkalachuchi / @neverforpickles [T, 16k, Harry/Louis]

Harry and Louis are best friends bound by years of shared memories, but their relationship is complicated by a tangle of unspoken emotions. Harry, an Alpha, is deeply in love with Louis, an Omega, but fears revealing his true feelings might shatter the friendship they’ve built. When Harry decides it’s time to settle down and start a new chapter in his life, he turns to Louis, an interior designer, for help in finding the perfect home.

What begins as a light-hearted search for a house soon becomes a journey of self-discovery and emotional upheaval. As they explore potential homes, their bond is tested by the growing tension between what is said and what remains hidden. Can Harry find the courage to reveal his heart, or will their unspoken desires tear them apart?

＊ Symphony by sweetkalachuchi / @neverforpickles [T, 4k, Louis/Harry]

In the peaceful countryside, Harry Styles is a hardworking farmer who’s all about keeping things running smoothly on his farm. But when a routine check on his crops leads to a nasty fall from his horse, Harry finds himself seriously injured. Determined not to worry his pregnant omega, Louis, he stubbornly drives himself to the hospital, knowing full well that Louis would be frantic if he found out.

Meanwhile, Louis gets a call that sends him into a panic—Harry’s in the hospital. Rushing to his side, Louis is a mix of anger and worry, not sure whether to scold Harry or hug him. As they reunite, the two navigate their emotions, and despite the scare, their bond only deepens, proving that together, they can handle anything life throws at them.

＊ Let Your Tears Fall (No I Won't Judge You) by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [E, 7k, Harry/Louis]

“I want to feel good," Harry says. "I want you to feel good. I just… I don’t know what that looks like.”Louis nods. “That’s fair,” he says. “Always a bit of a learning curve, figuring out what you like and what you don’t.” He rubs his chin. “What if we just… talk through it? Instead of doing it?”Harry blinks. “What do you mean?” he says. “I don’t – I just don’t know what-”“I know,” Louis says. “It’s okay.” He brushes his hand down Harry’s cheek, soft and gentle. “I can start,” he says. “Tell you about what I imagine us doing together. And anytime you feel like something isn’t right – you can stop me, and we can figure out a different path.”Harry nods slowly. “Okay,” he says. “I can try.”

Four times Harry cries during sex. And four times Louis is right there beside him, giving him all the comfort and support and validation he needs.

＊ Donatello by @jooles999 [M, 42k, Louis/Harry]

"GET OFF MY BUS!"

Louis neck bristled, he glared into the face of the man towering over him, his pupils black with unfiltered rage he opened his mouth ready to respond before hearing fast approaching footsteps from behind the curtain.

" Jeff, What's all the shouting about?"

Louis clamped his eyes shut gulping for air as a tightness gripped his chest.

No it can't be

Seconds felt like hours, he shivered as time stopped still. Louis opened up his now glistening eyes, he held his breath and bit tightly on his bottom lip trying to prepare himself for the moment he had so carefully avoided for 3 long years.

The curtain pulled back.

" Yes yes you have guessed right well done, it is indeed Harry Styles, you can close your gawping mouth now mate. Ill even be nice and give you a tour t-shirt, then you can get the hell off my fucking tour bus and back to...."

"L..Louis?"

Or One stormy night popstar Harry and accountant Louis are reunited after 3 long years apart. Harrys manager is dangerous and controlling can Louis save him before it's too late.

＊ I long for that feeling to not feel at all by @ineverateakiwi [NR, 2k, Harry/Louis]

When he is not around and Harry needs to feel more grounded, steady on his own feet, he thinks of Louis. It's probably not healthy to rely on someone this heavily, but it's better than nothing. It's what he has right now. And, right now, it's working. Is thinking about that feeling, the feeling of being real, being alive, that he whispers – without thinking – those two words. — "Hurt me."

Harry needs to feel something, even if it's pain. Louis gives what he needs.

- Fic Fests -

＊ 1D Aro/Ace Fic Fest / @1daroaceficfest [Masterpost]

A One Direction Fic Fest centred around all the identities on the aromantic and asexual spectrum

- Podfics -

＊ [Podfic] Write You A Song by by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings read by Panda_Podfics / @pandapodfics [G, Louis/Harry]

Harry’s new flat is great but the acoustics are even better. They’re so good in fact that his daily shower concerts start to entertain an audience besides his shampoo bottle.

[justdarklr]

In Stars And Time: Providence

An In Stars And Time x Persona AU

Created and Written by JustDarklr, Co-Created by mizzle-moths

Card I – Providential

Spoilers for In Stars And Time below the cut! Go play the game before reading!

Table Of Contents —

Card I — Providential ( Reading Now )

Card II — Awake

You… have trouble believing this is the end of your journey. You should recap everything in your head real quick. Just to make sure you remember everything, mostly. Your memory’s never been that good, after all.

It was almost a year ago now that The King appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Possessing immense Craft Power, he did something never heard of before— he spread his Curse across the country of Vaugarde, freezing in time everything in its path. With Dormont’s House of Change under his control, he patiently waits, for he knows his Curse can only be undone if he is defeated.

His victory would be all but determined, if not for The Housemaiden, Mirabelle. She is the only survivor of the House of Dormont, in which the King froze everyone inside in time and locked the gates. Everyone says she was blessed by the Change God themselves with the power to fight back the King’s Curse… which makes her the only one able to save Vaugarde, bound by her destiny.

When you met her, she had already been traveling with The Fighter, Isabeau, and The Researcher, Odile. They were trying to get the orbs necessary to open the House’s gates and defeat the King. You helped them defeat a rather strong Shadow, and, seeing your strength, they asked for your help. You… had nothing better to do, so you decided to accompany them!

Shadows are… a manifestation of grief, or something. You never researched them, but Odile seemed to know a bit about them, so you just took what she’s said at face value. They usually take the shape of figures from old Mythology or works of Fiction, though how they know of those forms is unknown. Some speculate that these Shadows had once been people, and they take the form of whatever they had the most attachment to in life upon their turning, but that theory has never been proven, supposedly. Either way, they’re a bit of a nuisance.

Anyways— a few weeks later, you met The Kid, Bonnie. Meeting them completed your little ragtag team of heroes. Though, Bonnie is mostly just your snack master. That doesn’t make them any less important, however!

You saw a lot of Vaugardian cities during your travels. Some frozen, some not, and you’ve done your best to sidestep the slowly encroaching Curse. Even still, though… you all kept going.

Mirabelle kept going to honor the Change God’s blessing, save her beloved house, and save Vaugarde. She didn’t have any other choice, after all— she is the only one who can.

Isabeau came with her after Vaugarde’s Defenders themselves refused to help. A bunch of cowards, probably.

Odile came to satisfy her curiosity about Vaugarde. She’s from another country, which makes sense, and she’s supposedly here to research… whatever she’s researching. … and because, in her words, “leaving the fate of a country to a bunch of young ones would give me an ulcer”.

Bonnie came to save their sister, frozen by the Curse. You worry about them, sometimes.

… you’re here because there’s nothing else for you to do. What else are you supposed to do except travel with them?

Once… Mirabelle asked if you were okay, following them on a journey to save the country. She felt guilty, like she was forcing everyone to follow her on a hopeless quest.

You wanted to put her at ease, so you said easily and truthfully that traveling with everyone was the happiest you could remember being. She… looked upset.

You cringe just thinking about it, honestly. Probably not the most considerate thing you could’ve said to someone with her problems at that moment!

But… tomorrow, one way or another, your journey will come to an end.

You tell everyone as you arrive that you’re tired, and you’re going to go find someplace to nap. They nod, and you’re off.

But… before you do, you have a stop to make. Just for some peace of mind. So, you head towards the favor tree on the west side of town.

… this tree is said to grant wishes. You’re not too sure about that, but… you may as well, right? You heard everyone else was going to, anyways. And, who knows, maybe it’ll come true?

You try to rack your brain for something to wish for. After a moment, something pops into your head. You’ve heard Isabeau mention something in passing before, haven’t you? That he wants to be a clothing designer, you think. That seems like a good wish to make. And, who knows, maybe it’ll help his dream come true, too.

You take a leaf from the favor tree, and whisper your desire into it three times.

“… I wish to be able to wear clothes Isabeau has made.”

… you pause, for a moment. And then whisper something else into the leaf, in addition to your first wish.

“I want to stay with them.”

This journey has been the most fun you can ever remember having. You… you love them. Your party. You’ve made such good friends on this journey, and you want to stay with them. Who wouldn’t? They’re your friends, after all…

You then fold the leaf over, and let it drift back into the shadow of the tree. You have a good feeling about that!

Afterwards, you get a move on. You find a clearing near the south side of town, slowly crouching down and splaying yourself across the soft grass. Feels just like a soft bed, you think. You haven’t slept in one for who knows how long. It’s just been sleeping bags, mostly. As you close your eyes, you feel yourself drifting off to sleep nearly instantly. You didn’t realize how tired you were…

… you dream of a strange room, covered in strange shades, with a strange man sitting in the middle of it. What is this place? You feel yourself walking forward, standing in front of the strange man’s desk, as he opens his mouth to speak.

“Well, isn’t this surprising? A brand new guest, and one with quite an intriguing fate at that. I wasn’t expecting anyone for some time now.”

You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off.

“Ah-ah. I apologize, but I will have to make this quick. Your nap is going to be rather short, after all.”

The man clears his throat, then places his hands on his desk, interlocking his fingers. You want to ask what he means about attendants, but you can’t get any words in before he starts speaking once more.

“Welcome to the Velvet Room. My name is Igor… I am delighted to make your acquaintance. This is the space between dream and reality, mind and matter. It is a space only those who are bound by a ‘contract’ may enter. And it seems that such a fate has already befallen you, even without your knowledge.”

What? But you don’t remember signing any contract. You… you could have, though. Maybe you’ve just forgotten. Maybe it was that insignificant in your mind.

“Now then… why don’t you introduce yourself?”

Finally, a chance to speak. You open your mouth once again, ready to belt out all the questions you have— but instead, all you’re able to say is your name. “Siffrin.”

“… Siffrin. No middle name, no last name. Is that correct?”

You nod. Stars, that’s annoying. Why can’t you talk? Dream logic, or something?? Ugh, this dream sucks.

“I see. An interesting name, but I suppose it is one befitting of one surrounded by as much mystery as you. Now then… why don’t we take a look into your future?”

A set of tarot cards appear on the man’s desk. He flips one over, and examines it closely.

“Ah… I see. The tower, in the reversed position. This card represents resistance to change, and the delaying of the inevitable…”

He flips another card over. You already don’t like this.

“The star, in the reversed position. A card representative of despair… I see.”

He flips one last card over. This has to be fake, right? It’s just a dream, without any meaning. You’re sure of it.

“… Judgement, in the upright position, representing reflection, and rebirth.”

The tarot cards disappear, and the man smiles at you. Like he has been, this entire time. Stars, you haven’t really gotten a good look at this guy— you’ve been kind of out of it, but something is off about him. His skin isn’t lightless or darkless, nor a shade inbetween, his smile never seems to falter, and his nose is far too long to be normal. Who is this man? … Well, you suppose you know the answer. ‘Igor’. A strange man, in a strange room, in a strange dream. That sums up this situation rather well, you suppose.

“It seems you will face a great trial in the near future. One in which you resist oncoming time, and face despair and hopelessness because of it.

But fear not. You will overcome this trial through reflection, and in the end, you will face rebirth. A new day to come. Yet, if you fail to overcome this trial, you may be forever lost. My duty is to provide assistance to our guests to ensure that does not happen.”

Your head hurts. This is a lot to take in at once.

“I would like to introduce my assistant to you, but it seems they’re not here as of yet. They’re late. But they will be here soon enough to accompany you throughout this perilous journey.

We shall attend to the finer details another time. Until then, farewell…”

Your vision faces to black, and…

You reawaken in the field to someone calling your name. Your head hurts from that dream. Too many weird shades to take in… but at least you’re back in your lightless and darkless world, now. Normalcy. That’s what you need right now.

… who’s calling your name?

CARD I — END

Next Card ~ Awake

[mapileonxputellas]

Jealousy (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

I think this might have been my favourite one so far! I hope the ending was suitable, I hate writing things in the future, I just feel like I'm pre-empting things so I couldn't include the final. Request can be found here. 4.7k words. Quite a long one!

Leaving Lyon was a tough decision to make. You were captain there for just over three years and more importantly they were your family. But you’d won all there was to win at the club and when Barcelona came with an offer it felt like fate was calling you.

You were billed as the star signing, the one who could fill the void by their own captain’s absence. You never wanted to be labelled as this replacement for Alexia, though you both played in the same position you were very different players. When news of her injury reached you during the Euro’s you couldn’t help but feel gutted you wouldn’t get to play alongside her.

The previous season has been kind to you, finishing the club season with a Champions League medal and going on to win the Euro’s, but as soon as you stepped foot into the Barcelona training centre you couldn’t help but feel different, in some ways complete. Thankfully the players were all very professional and only a few joking comments were made about your goal against Barcelona in the Champions League final.

You weren’t expecting to get the captain’s armband but Alexia’s absence as well as a few niggling injuries left you with the armband and your leadership was undeniable by the coaching staff.

Alexia herself had been a mystery to you, you’d seen her around the facility and at a few games but you never had the chance to speak to her.

But today that would change as today you were informed would be her first day back in group training, she had a long way to go to be back playing but you knew how big a step this was. Just over four years ago you had been subject to those three little letters, three letters which changed your life. You were excited for Alexia, the recovery process was so long and you were determined to make her first session back a good one.

You arrived at the training ground hours before anyone else was meant to be there to add some little changes. You bought a little welcome back sign to hang on her locker, sourced her favourite wine and chocolates for her to take home after and got all the girls to sign a card on their way in.

You watched on as she came in to get changed before training, letting all her friends shower her with congratulations as you got changed with Claudia one side of you and Patri the other.

“Have you met Alexia yet?” Claudia asked as you tied your shoelaces.

“No, well not properly. I don’t think being opposing captains counts.”

“She’s lovely, you’ll both get along.” Patri reassured you. “You’re both very similar.”

“I hope so.”

There was never a better time than the present and you waited back at the end as people flooded out to get the chance to speak to her alone and introduce yourself. Only when you locked eyes on her, instead of waiting for you to finish she made her way out of the dressing room.

You always gave people the benefit of the doubt and presumed maybe she thought you weren’t heading out, instead leaving you running after her. “Hey.” You started once you were level with the Spaniard, a single glance sent your way before she carried on walking. “I don’t think we’ve met before, well properly. I’m Y/N.”

“I know.” Ok you weren’t exactly expecting that, her lack of words was cold but her the tone made it all the colder. But sometimes to your downfall you were a painful optimist and maybe she was just having a bad day.

“Erm, how are you feeling? The team really misses you out there, everyone always talks about you and-“

“Listen OK?” She whisper aggressively, her fingers reaching out to grip your wrist. “I don’t need you to give me a debrief about my own team. I know them more than you ever will and things will change now.”

“Alexia I-“

“Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”

It shocked you how much her words hurt. You dealt with anger all the time on the pitch, getting equally angry when defending your team but this felt different. This felt like a personal attack.

You tried to hide the hurt in your face as you reached the rest of the group in the gym, all stood in a circle waiting for their captain.

“I want to say a few words.” Jona said as you stood between Alexia and Ana. “Ale we can’t wait to have you back in the team. You’ve worked so hard up until now, one final push and you’ll be back out there in no time. Let’s finish this season strongly, I want a medal around all our necks at the end of the season.”

“We’ve captured the enemy now, of course we will.” Ana teased wrapping her arm around your shoulder. “The final piece of the puzzle.”

You stole a glance at the woman beside you and almost cowered back at cold eyes watching you and Ana. You tried to give her a reassuring smile as the rest of the group started chanting her name but that didn’t stop the frown on her face. When Jona brought out the presents you had bought on behalf of the group with the signed card you couldn’t help but notice you was the only one she didn’t thank, the only one who didn’t receive a hug. Not even a glance when you heard her asking Sandra about it.

“Oh Y/N sorted it out, she likes organising things like that.” Sandra commented not noticing the anger growing on Alexia’ face.

“Oh really.”

“Yeah that’s why she’s a leader.” The look that comment made could have turned you into stone.

One thing was for sure, this was definitely the biggest hurdle you’d encountered in Barcelona.

…..

The following day was the first time you got to witness the full La Reina effect on the pitch. But from minute one it felt like she was going out of her way to make your day horrible.

When you walked into the canteen that morning and lined up alongside her you hoped maybe yesterday had just been a bad day for her however as you found the frown on her face you knew that was not the case.

But whatever was going on you weren’t going to rise to her level and gave her the smile people often described as charming. “Alexia how are you this morning?”

“Fine.”

Wow the chat was scintillating. “I’m glad there’s one apple left I can’t start my day without one.” You said noticing the one apple left as you firstly got your scrambled eggs on toast. “What about you? Any traditions?”

“No.”

It shouldn’t have really been a surprise to you when you got to the end of the breakfast bar and found the fruit bowl lacking any apples and it really shouldn’t have surprised you when you turned around and found one sat on the tray in front of Alexia, a smirk on her face as she sat down.

“Ale I thought you never had an apple in the morning?” Jana questioned. “You never start the day without an orange.”

“It’s always worth a change.” Of course it was, not at all because of the comment you’d made.

“No apple this morning?” Claudia questioned when you sat down, the smirk only growing on Alexia’s face as she looked up at you.

“No there were none left.”

“Here have mine.” Frido pushed hers down the table, being received with a thankful smile from you. “Can’t have our little superstar without her favourite breakfast.” If looks could kill…..

It didn’t stop there.

During just the warm-up of the training session it felt like she was everywhere. The occasional shoulder barge into your side during the drills, the little nicks under your feet during the rondos, you were half surprised she hadn’t two footed you during the five-a-side match.

“Do you think it will be weird playing against Vicky?” Bruna asked Alexia during the water break referencing the former Barcelona captain now playing for Roma who you’d just been drawn against for the Champions League.

“It will be weird but you should all be confident. There’s no-one left who we shouldn’t believe we can beat. We were unfairly beat in that final but this year is different, none of those players would get anywhere near us when we’re at our best.”

Usually you would assume a comment like that would be made forgetting your link to that team but you knew Alexia’s game and you knew she made that comment directed at you.

“And now with Salma, Lucy, Geyse, Nuria we’re a better team.”

She was being horrible, malicious and it was all directed at you but you had no reason why. You’d been wracking your brains all night trying to find some kind of reasoning for her seemingly hating you. The two of you had never had a run in before, well at least that was memorable enough to have some kind of grudge. The two of you had been up for awards together but she’d always won, including this year’s Ballon d’or but even then on the flight there she must have already had some ill feelings towards you.

“Come on captain.” Vicky came up beside you tugging your arm. “Let’s win this match.”

Football has and probably always will be the out you have for your emotions. Feeling happy: go and pick up a ball. Feeling sad: go and pick up a ball. Right now with the mixture of sadness and anger running through your veins you picked up that ball and gave the small, sided game your all.

You weren’t a malicious player but you got stuck into every tackling, winning most and always being clean and fair.

Maybe that meant it was fair game in her eyes, fair game to give it her all as well. Make sure she left a mark on you, never going so far as to injure you but you knew tomorrow morning you would be covered in bruises from her tight marking on you.

“That was some battle.” Jona wrapped his arms around the pair of you as you walked off the pitch. “I don’t think we can play the both of you at the same time, it just wouldn’t be fair on the opposition.”

“Yeah.” You feigned an agreement knowing how much you wanted to play with Alexia before this all happened, now you weren’t so sure.

“Go and practice your free-kicks.”

The two of you joined Mapi at the far goal posts, Caro and Salma also staying back as the others did some rondos.

It was stupid you’d played in front of millions before, you’d lifted the biggest trophy in club football and yet you’d never felt nerves like practicing free kicks in front of the Queen herself. Thankfully you thrived under pressure and all three balls found their way to the back of the net.

“Way to go princesa.” Mapi found her nickname for you soon after you’d arrived thanks to your healthy addiction to a good beauty treatment. When you weren’t playing football on a Sunday you would more than likely be found in the local spa facilities.

Mapi and Caro made their way over to the corner flag to practice corner kicks leaving the two of you watching Salma line the ball up. “Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time getting ready you could spend some time on your shooting. Any good goalkeeper would have saved all three of them.” Alexia whispered in your ear.

“They were top bins Alexia.”

“Keep telling yourself that. We don’t settle for mediocracy here, remember that.”

“It’s a good thing the manager doesn’t think that. There’s a reason I’ve been sharing the duties with Mapi.”

“You two good?” Salma asked raising her eyebrows at our hushed voices.

“We’re fine thanks.” You assured the young girl. “I was just asking about the plans for travelling tomorrow.”

“Good.”

If she was going to act like this you could take it, you were big enough to deal with someone not liking you. The problem came with the team dynamics, you weren’t about to let some vendetta affect the rest of the team.

“This won’t work if you can’t even look me in the eye.” You whispered as you made your way inside at the end of training. “Whether you like it or not we’re on the same team, when we’re on the pitch forget about it.”

“Fine.”

“Sure?”

“Yes.”

…..

Things didn’t get better, they just got manageable. You grew to ignore the glares, ignore the little comments made, ignore the fact that every morning just in case there was always an apple on her plate and yet it never got touched.

She kept her promise, no matter what she thought of you off the field, which you still hadn’t worked out, it always stopped the moment you stepped foot on the pitch. That didn’t mean you were best friends on the pitch but you could share a few tactical words and miraculously the two of you worked well together.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise to you, you had spent a lot of time reading her game both for Lyon to play against her and for Barcelona to play with her. You knew all the moves she made, the way she liked to push forward and when she held back. So you adapted your game to suit that, you knew if Barcelona had to choose they would pick her and you knew you could play alongside her with a few subtle changes rather than just you or her. When she would push on you stayed back, when she moved into one area you placed yourself where you knew she liked to lay the ball back.

Today you would be pushing those limits even further as Alexia prepared to make her return in the league. Alexia had admitted herself that Chelsea in the Champion’s League wasn’t the right time to return in a match with so much at stake but today you had the chance to win the league and by half time you were already 1-0 up, Jana soon making it two in the second half.

Jona gave you the decision of when you felt it was comfortable enough to get Alexia back on the pitch and when you got that two-goal cushion you knew you would be able to control the game from here so you made the signal and waited for them to make the change. At this point you were beginning to tire having played 90 minutes just three days prior and now another 65 minutes.

When the board came up with your number on it as well as the number 11 you made your way over to the touchline, unstrapping the band from around your forearm and held it out so Alexia could put her arm through it. Without looking her in the eye you made a point of strapping it up for her and then brought her in for the usual interchange hug before making your way to the bench.

You took your seat on the edge of the bench next to Mapi, the player handing you a water bottle and allowing you to catch your breath.

“Was she alright?” You questioned knowing Alexia was in your seat only a few moments prior.

“She’s ready, bit nervous but she wants to be there for this moment.”

The final 20 minutes went by very quickly Assisat scoring the final goal to seal the league title win. On the final whistle you all made your way onto the pitch, one of your biggest ‘superstitions’ if you would call it that was to always go around and shake all the opponents’ hands before you celebrated any cup or trophy win and this came into that category. You shook all the hands of the Huelva players and their coaching staff before joining your teammates.

Ana was the first one to spot you and the Swiss giant opened her arms up for you to jump into as she twirled you around in the air. “We did it.” You shouted down her ear as you felt further arms wrap around you.

“You did it.” She put you down on the floor and put her hands on your shoulders to meet your eye. “Take a bit of credit, you’re an incredible player.”

“Thanks Ana.”

So far you were thankful no-one had noticed, or at least commented, on a rift between you and Alexia and you weren’t about to let them see it now. You joined the rest of the girls in the traditional celebration for a player returning by throwing them up in the air for three cheers before you all made your way over to the front for the trophy presentation.

“Alexia if you could follow me.” An official came down to guide Alexia up into the stands for the trophy collection. You could see the glances that came your way but in your mind Alexia was always the captain and she should have this moment so you watched on, a smile etched on your face as you saw the joy in her face at lifting the trophy.

“Y/N come on.” Before you had the chance to protest Marta grabbed your hand leading you to the front of the pack as Alexia came down with the trophy.

“This is for you two, you’re the captains.” You tried to get through to Marta as you knew Alexia wouldn’t like this.

“You’ve led this team for the past eight months. You deserve this moment as much as we do.”

You could see there was no room for manoeuvre in her tone and in her face, simply staying put where you were. When Alexia clocked you standing amongst Marta you could see the distain on her face hidden by one of the fakest smiles you’d seen in a long time. You allowed yourself this moment, tucking into one side of Alexia and wrapping your hand around the metal trophy to lift it together as one.

“You two deserve this.” Marta whispered wrapping you both in a hug and pressing a kiss to both of your foreheads. “This team wouldn’t work without the both of you.”

“I don’t think-“

“It’s true, everyone thinks it. We all love you both.”

“Thank you.”

……

After the league win it was fair to say both you and Alexia were observers of the main celebrations, both of you knowing that the Champions League was the main aim this season. You both drove the standards in training knowing what a stern task Wolfsburg would be. The games leading up to the final all had major rotation so Alexia and yourself were yet to play more than twenty minutes in the dying embers of the game together, the captaincy always with Alexia.

The day before the final it was decided both you and Alexia would be part of the pre-match press conference in Eindhoven taking your placed behind the podium with Jonaton.

Jonaton of course covered all the tactic and personnel questions before you were both in the spotlight.

“Y/N it’s hard to believe this is still your first season in Barcelona. How much would it mean for you to lift that trophy tomorrow?”

“Yeah the time has definitely flown by. I came from a team of winners and I’ve joined a team of winners and we won’t settle for anything less than perfection tomorrow. I want more than anything to feel that joy I felt last year.”

“How would you assess your first year? Did you expect to be as integral to the side as you have been both in playing and in your captaincy?”

“It’s been a bit of a crazy year. I have high standards for myself and I hope both the club and fans can see that. I came here because I believed I could add something to the team and I hope they can see what I bring to the plate. In terms of the captaincy that is simply a role I have been sharing with many members of the team even if I sometimes have the armband. Alexia may not have been on the pitch for a long time this season but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have the leadership in training and before matches.”

“We’ve yet to see much of you two together on the pitch. Does that excite you?”

“Of course, I’ve watched Alexia for a long time now and I hope we can work together on the pitch soon, will that be tomorrow? I guess only Jona knows that.”

“Alexia how much would it mean to you winning the trophy tomorrow after the year you’ve had?”

“Yes it would be very special. I’ve worked hard behind the scenes but more importantly this team has got us to this point and I hope I can be a part of the final push tomorrow.”

“You’ve probably watched a lot of this team over that past 12 months. How have you improved since last year?”

“That final taught us a lot about ourselves and of course the improvements we have to make both in terms of our play but also our mindset. Of course we improved in personnel, Y/N has been a massive part of that and answering a previous question I can’t wait to play with her.”

Wow, you weren’t quite sure if she was being fully truthful or if this was all a show but it had to be worth something, right?

Unbeknownst to the two of you, the rest of the team were watching the interview in the other room. A light murmur of chatter amongst everyone as they watched the two people they considered their captains complimenting each other.

“Have you ever noticed that weird tension between those two? I’ve never really seen them talk but they just work on the pitch, they’re different when they’re playing together.” Ingrid asked Mapi, the two of them sat on one of the beanbags. “Is it just sexual tension that neither of them will give into?”

“How can you miss it? I’ve tried asking Alexia about it but she just dismisses it. Maybe they’re hiding something, I’ve never even seen them interact more than a glare at each other.”

“Ten euros they’re together by next season.”

“Ten euros they’re together by the world cup.”

…..

Alexia didn’t say a word to you after the conference, the both of you separately making your way up to your rooms. Thankfully the club had given you all single rooms so you didn’t have anyone disturbing you as you tried to work out Alexia. She had been nothing but horrible to you since you first met each other and yet she said all that in the press conference. It just wasn’t adding up.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock on your door if you weren’t completely silent you probably wouldn’t have heard it but you did. It was only eight o’clock but you were about to try and get an early night.

Presuming it was one of the younger ones who had forgot something you went to answer the door but instead of seeing Bruna or Jana at the door, your heart started racing when you came face to face with Alexia.

“Hi.” Her whispers were barely audible as your mind spiralled as to what she could be here for. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Her voice knocked you out of your daydream as you opened the door wider for Alexia. “Take a seat.”

Alexia sat herself down on the vanity chair as you took a seat on the bed, wondering what was going on with the woman as she started at her hands, picking her fingernails.

“Are you alright?” You questioned breaking the silence.

“I um, I-“ You’d never seen Alexia like this, nervously fumbling over her words and a hesitant look on her face. “I want to apologise before tomorrow.”

You hoped you knew what she was apologising for but you wanted the full clarification. “Apologise about what?”

“When I first found out I’d done my ACL I was worried about how this injury would change me, how I would never be the same after it and how different things would be when I’m gone. When I heard Barcelona were signing you I knew that would jeopardise my place on the squad, I heard everyone talk about what an amazing player you were and of course I knew that myself. Then you got the captaincy armband and it just felt like you were my replacement.”

“Ale-“

“So when I came back I had this almost anger to you that you’d got to be a part of this team, that you’d got to lead them out at Camp Nou and seen those wins. I was jealous, I admit that and I heard someone mention it once that the only way to settle this was for one of us to leave.”

“So you did all this so I would leave?”

“I thought the only way to push you to leave was to be horrible to you. I can’t believe how horrible I was to you when you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so sorry Y/N, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a few weeks but I can’t go in tomorrow with any tension between us. We’ve got to work together.”

“Thank you, but Ale it was never you or I.” You assured her. “I came on this team to work with you not instead of you. When you came back into training I genuinely just wanted to play with you and then you seemed to be trying to make my life a living hell, it was like you were going out of your way to disrupt my day.”

“I tried to hate you but it’s just impossible, you’ve got this smile that everyone seems to love and you always give everything 100%. Plus the team love you, I’m sick of hearing Jana talk about your dancing or Mapi talking about your tattoos. I want to see that side of you.”

“Hug it out?”

“Come here.” You wrapped your arms around the Spaniard, her own arms coming up around your neck as you settled into the hug.

You could never hate Alexia no matter how much she almost pushed you to it, you could never do it, you knew what injuries could do to people and this was no different. You were sadly just the one who got the rough end of it.

“Do you reckon Jonaton will play us together tomorrow?” You asked separating from the hug, a smile on both of your faces.

“I hope so. I really hope so.”

If it weren’t the night before the final you would have been up till the early hours getting to know Alexia but instead you both went for the early night option, your dedication to the sport the biggest thing you admired about each other.

It wasn’t lost on you the few glances you got the next morning as you both walked into the canteen together laughing and joking about a story Alexia was telling you about Nala. The both of you ignoring them as you sat down, a little comment made about the lack of an apple on Alexia’s plate instead just an orange next to her avocado on toast. “I need you on top form for tonight.” Alexia had commented back.

“You’re seeing that right?” Ingrid whispered to Mapi. “Yesterday they wouldn’t speak two words together and now they’re laughing and joking like this.”

“Loud and clear. Maybe now we can see the true La Reina and Princesa on the pitch together.”

[of-sinners-and-seas]

A Song of Spirits

OF SINNERS AND SEAS - BOOK ONE

A WIP INTRO

From the minds of @isabellebissonrouthier and @lady-grace-pens !

GENRE: adult. high fantasy. dark fantasy. dark romance.

POV: third person limited. past tense.

STATUS: writing.

CW: gore. strong language. explicit sexual content.

VIBES: ruby hearts and obsidian eyes. crashing waves and thundering skies. the bile of regret. the seduction of sin. tired eyes. heavy sighs. old photographs. tarot cards whose edges are worn by love. a broken body in a black room. clashing swords. a dusty throne. secrets exchanged in a back alley where the only judges are the street lamps that blind the stars above. pearls. jazz. rusted bars of a once-gilded cage. self-proclaimed godhood. bruises from lips that used to berate you. fresh ink from a letter scrawled in the dead of night. hidden longings. confessions. voices in the wind uttering words of destiny.

clotted emotions. a journal in tatters. flashes of light in the corner of your gaze. a pair of stilettos echoing down a rain-slick street. the stench of death. creaking wood. weapons that belong in your hands. the ache of nostalgia. the weight of the present. the sharp cracking of autumn leaves. milking blood from a wound that won’t heal.

THEMES: fate vs dreams. loyalty vs betrayal. history. secrets. self-worth. loneliness. mysticism and fortune telling. power and control. what do you want and how far will you go to get it? where will chasing it land you? In a better or worse position? Could you even handle it? How can you be sure?

SYNOPSIS:

Seven pirates. Seven thrones. Seven deadly sins.

All vie for dominance over their fantastical world, thinking themselves to be as close to immortal as could be. But the question of what, exactly, they are remains elusive, as is the reason why they crave a seat atop the world’s throne, battling to be the most dangerous sin of them all.

Some long for power. Some lust for a sense of identity. Others simply chase the thrill of the war they’ve locked themselves into.

Is not the root of all clashing swords a wretched cry for one’s own purpose?

It is for Katty, mistress of Envy. Her interest in the eternal war has been waning, and the figures roaming the streets of Eiffel have captured her attention more and more.

Families. Friends. Couples unscathed by the tests of time.

Her presence on her own pirate ship has become a rarity. Her lover, Delvan of Greed, has waxed on about his disapproval of her flippant desires, stressing the importance of what truly matters in their lives.

Fortune. Power. Status.

Katty knows this. And yet, she aches for more.

When the cards of fate unfold for her a passionate affair with the prince of Pride, Braven, behind the backs of their allies, Katty remembers the spark that being Envy once carried for her.

It’s only natural she chose him to accompany her on a secret mission to infiltrate the ship of Gluttony, also known as Flint. While Braven seeks information regarding Flint’s relentless search for who they are, Katty seeks a chest of personal valuables he’d stolen from her. More than either of them bargained for, Braven is captured and Katty is filled with regret. Sooner than she could even think to fall back on her own allies for aid, Flint captures them, too.

Katty must rescue them. And she must rely on Braven’s twin sister, wretched Morannah of Lust, in order to stand a chance against that giant, hulking man.

When the girls invade, cruel revelations are sparked: one calls into question the sins’ immortality, and the other permanently alters the nature of their war.

After all, what is an ally worth when all ends in betrayal?

•••

Pinterest Board | YouTube Playlist

INTRO TO THE SERIES

MEET THE SINS:

Envy | Pride | Lust | Greed | Wrath | Gluttony | Sloth

EXPLORE THE WORLDS:

Eiffel | Polarys & Lorallyn | Geldour | Valoma | Guisse | The Desolate

MEET THE FIRST MATES:

Gigi | Mikael | Désirée | Alusia | Marigold

•••

TAGLIST: @the-inkwell-variable @fifis-corner