#they said I might be able to get in from portfolio alone if I don’t get the right score

[cxmbugs]

Parts of my final project from college

I am really happy with it I’m not sure I even care if I get a good score or not (lying I really need a merit and have been stressed since I handed it in)

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 14

Prompt: Humiliation Pairing: nonidol!Jeongin (I.N) x olderfem!reader WC: 2k Summary: You’ve had a day. You need a drink. Alone preferably. And yet here comes the boy who has been staring you down all night.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Jeongin (I.N) or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. 

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.

TW/CW Preface. Jeongin uses the word “noona” to refer to the reader. I just really couldn’t think of a better word to refer (cutely) to a woman older than you but not “mommy” and part of what this specific version of him gets off on is the power of fucking someone older than him. ANYWAY if that give you the ick, turn back now.

Additional TW/CW below the cut.

TW/CW: fucking in a bathroom, humiliation, degradation, reader nicknames- (noona, ONE instance of “mommy”, whore, dumb slut, slut, disgusting), under negotiated kink, cum in panties, dubcon (they’re drunk, most agree that consent at this point is...well murky AT BEST), ROUGH sex (gagging, underprepped, no aftercare). Age gap *(unspecified, reader is older) 

 “Oh no no no,” you stopped the young man in his tracks. “You are much too young for me baby boy.”  He hadn’t spoken a single word to you yet, spending most of the night staring at you from the corner of the bar as many other men had all of your life. You didn’t need to know much, his sweet dimpled face told you everything you needed to know. Old enough to drink, sure, but certainly too young for you.  “Aw,” his voice sounds disappointed yet determined as he smiles. “Noona, you haven’t even let me speak, you don’t know why I’m here.”  Coolly taking another sip of your drink, you look at him from the corner of your eye. “I know you’ve been staring at me all night. It’s enough to make assumptions.”  “So you’re like a museum piece? I can look but I can’t touch?” He sticks the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he smiles and winks cheekily.  You let out an exasperated sigh, the line was cheesy but his audacity was admirable. Looking straight ahead you down your drink, if this was what the night was, leave it up to Bacchus, not your brain. “Do you have an elevator pitch or do I have to suffer more bad lines?”  “The elevator pitch, noona, is that younger guys are the trend. You seem like a trendsetter. It seems like a great opportunity for you to increase your portfolio and it just so happens that I have availability for tonight.”  “I regret the elevator pitch, buy me a drink or do you need to call your parents to authorize the charge?”  “No mommy, I’m a big boy in more than one way.” He tries to wink and cringes. “That was bad. I'm sorry, I’ll grab your next drink if you let me.”  Eyes wide with disbelief you weigh your options, send the kid away or see what the night brings. In reality he can’t be THAT much younger than you. You’re both here in a bar, drinking,he has to be at least twenty one years old. Unless he has a fake, the devious little shit. You’ve already spent more time with him than you’d originally intended. Before you’re able to politely wave him off your smartwatch pings and you go delving into the depths of your purse. In the time it takes you to dig the bartender is back and the kid is ordering you and himself another round.  “I thought you said ‘if you let me’ I don’t recall giving you permission.”  “You seemed preoccupied and if i’m being honest, a little stressed. No pressure, you can enjoy it without me, or with me. You must admit I’m at least a little exciting, I might be fun to keep around a bit longer.”  Fighting your smile you nod nonchalantly to the barstool next to you. “The seat’s open.”

 You don’t remember how many drinks you’ve had but it’s enough to be following him to the bathroom. Him -Jeongin, IN, Innie- he had so many names from his friends and family. It was less alcohol than you’d hoped before you’d fallen to his boyish charm. Eager, honest, and way too fucking into you to pass up.  His hand is on your lower back as the two of you walk towards the back, almost as if you’re going to exit through the kitchen instead of heading to one of the three single occupancy bathrooms. Touching the doorknob you hesitate briefly, door creaking under the light pressure.  Jeongin is on you before the door even finishes opening, spinning you around to face him, hands on your hips as he backs you through the door in an impassioned kiss.  “What if someone sees?” You half whisper as he kisses your neck, fumbling with the small zipper of your skirt.  “Then they’ll know we’re fucking,” he states simply, giving up on the skirt and yanking your blouse free. “Do you have a problem with that?”  The heat of embarrassment creeps at the sides of your face and twists in your gut pleasantly. “Isn’t it…they’d know…” your tongue ties, a girlish giggle from a fluttering heart interrupting. Jeongin isn’t helping as he pushes the cups of your bra down, thumbs running over your nipples as he hurries to free your breasts.  “Does that excite you? Someone walking in on you getting fucked by some stranger in a shit bathroom in a shity dive bar?” Jeongin pinches your nipples slightly, your eyes rolling as you bite back a moan.  “It does.”  “What does?” He pinches your nipples again.  “Fucking a stranger in a shitty dive bar.” Your heart jumps, just saying it outloud feels exciting. Hearing his words in your voice feels more real.  “What does fucking a stranger do?” His lips ghost over your neck as he nearly whispers, each consonant buzzing against you. Hand traveling between your thighs, the tips of his fingers rub circles in the cotton fabric of your underwear, right above your clit.  “Turns me on, fuck, Jeongin!” You squeal  The squish of your damp panties is proof enough of his handiwork. “And you thought a kid like me couldn’t have a woman like you.” He laughs, nibbling at the column of your throat. “So wet for me already. Can control everything but that needy cunt of yours. Who got you this worked up?  Pushing the gusset of your panties aside his middle finger plays at your entrance, circling slowly, barely dipping in. “You did,” you gasp, hips canting to try to trick him into slipping further down your channel.

 Gathering some of your essence on his fingers he backs off, playing with the strands clinging between his fingers. “Clean them,” he offers to you, your eyes already glazed over an unfocused as you lean into the tiled wall.  You do it, eagerly. Taking his digits into your mouth and swirling your tongue around them. Sucking him clean and then some.  “So your mouth is good for something,” he coos pressing your mouth open to fuck along the soft pink surface of your tongue. Watching drool pool and spill from the corners of your lips. “You’re so much hotter when you give into me. Just like this. Why don’t you put that smart little mouth around my cock?”

 There’s no discussion, you simply slip to the floor, knees pressing into the cold dirty tile. “Disgusting” you mutter to yourself.  Grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Jeongin tilts your head up,  looming over you. “Just like you. Now open and stick your tongue out like the dumb slut you are.”  Eyes wide you comply. His lips purse as he summons a globule of spit, letting it cling to his lips as it drops slowly down to your mouth. “Keep it open,” he demands, freeing his stiffened member from its confines. Using the tip he pushes his spit along your tongue, watching his length eclipse the velvety pink surface. “Just look at how sweet you can be,” he coos, “from here you aren’t so scary at all are you, noona?”  Doe-eyed you look up at him and shake your head no. Holding your jaw as open as you can for him, relaxing all the way through the back of your throat as he pushes deeper. The stretch at the hinges of your jaw is almost painful as he smiles down at you, the cute dimples suddenly seem sinister when paired with his actions. It sends a shiver all the way down to your core. You’re so pent up you could scream, instead whimpering and squeezing your thighs together for relief. Guilty that it turns you on so much you can barely form thoughts as he fucks into your open mouth, hand cushioning the back of your head from the tile wall.

 Kicking your knees apart, Jeongin slides his shoe under your ass as you hump blindly against his leg. It provides some, albeit humiliating, relief to your throbbing cunt.  “Just what would your colleagues think? Humping my leg like a flithy slut. A professional like you getting broken down by a boy like me.” He finally pushes all the way back, breaching the ring of muscle at the top of your throat as you gag around him. Mucus and spit and tears covering your cheeks and chin, eyes glazed over.  “Doing alright?” Jeongin asks sweetly, hand slowly wiping the mess across your face.  “Fuck me. Please. Please. I need it so badly. I’m so ready for you baby please.”  “Get up.”  You wobble still half drunk on alcohol half drunk on hormones, leaning into the wall for support.  “Grab the sink.”  The white ceramic of the sink is cool against your overheated skin as you hold onto the edge of the basin, waiting. Blurry eyed you watch him through the mirror in front of you, like the killer in a horror movie about to claim his next victim. He looks wild while you look like a wreck, makeup running down your cheeks and hair in knots. He hoists your skirt to your waist, pushing your soaked panties to the side.  “You won’t need any prep right? You’ve taken cock enough right? I’m just a young guy, it’ll be no problem for you with all your experience.”  Your mouth opens to beg him to go slow, instead it feels like your gut is punched through your esophagus as his blunt head bullies its way between your walls. The stretch sudden and brutal. Sliding forward with him, hips bruising against the lip of the sink, your face smushes into the mirror in front of you with a reedy whine.  “Shit, you’re tight noona. Fuck.” He grunts as he rocks closer to you, steadying for a second before he begins in earnest. Fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass he pulls almost all the way back, savoring the feeling of your walls tugging him back in eagerly. The dip of your back arches more dramatically as he thrusts forward, drawing another whine from you.  Pulling you upright and tight to his chest his hand covers your mouth tightly. “Do you want everyone to know I’m ruining you? Or are you just so fucked out you don’t care anymore.”  “Fucked,” you sob, spit coating the palm of his hand. “Good. Fucked.”  He thrusts up again. The combination of slight angle change and the press of the sink against your groin has his tip aimed directly into the soft target of your spot.  It’s overwhelmingly good as he jackhammers into you, hips snapping ruthlessly. Panting your body shifts violently between limp and clenched, unsure of how to handle the overload of pain and pleasure.  “Go ahead slut, cum on my cock. You’re lucky I’m even letting you.” He sneers, lips pressed to the shell of your ear. The tickle of his breath is what sends you over the edge, shaking and gasping as your walls clamp around him. He leans the both of you forward as you vision darkens, body slackening against the mirror. Cheek pressed to your lower back you both pant as he withdraws suddenly, staggering back from you slightly.

 You hardly notice he’s left you like that, only alerted by the click of the door unlocking and closing again. In your post climax sobriety you realize you have no idea if he’d even bothered to wear a condom. Slowly your hand slides over your ass, nearly gagging at the smear of sticky residue stuck to the inside of your underwear. Drifting higher to pull your skirt down, something small like a clothing tag pokes you.

 A business card.  “I got your tab, call me,” scrawled hastily on the back.

Sorry i’m off my groove I actually wrote this one three fucking times. One veered into A/B/O territory which is so out of my league like i don’t know what i was thinking. Love reading it, no idea how to write it.

Anyway I’m going to make my way againnnnn!

[ushidoux]

Power Struggle - Ushijima x Reader

Summary: You’re set up on a blind date with a man who might just be your match.  (~5.1k words)

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, blind date, exhibitionism, public sex

A/N: Part of @cherrytenko​’s CEO collab! Surprisingly this is possibly the longest fic I’ve written as a oneshot and it’s a little softer than I expected it to be but please enjoy!

---

It’s about half past 6pm when you add the final touch to your makeup, a smear of matte lipstick (Rouge Hermes #48, to be exact), to your lips.

It’s not often that you’re able to leave work early but your mother and father had called you from overseas in the late afternoon, interrupting their own third honeymoon, to remind you of your final meeting for the day - 

A date.

“I know you hate these things, but just go! You might like what you see,” your mother insisted over video chat, her voice muffled by the sound of wind whipping past her as she and your father cruised along on a shaky speedboat they’d purchased just for the day. You weren’t completely sure where they were, only vaguely aware that they were somewhere around Jeju Island, and not exactly sure why they still had phone service, but you weren’t going to ask too many questions.

“No obligation!” Your father adds, just out of view and yelling slightly. 

Sure, never any obligations.

As you smack your lips in the mirror to smooth out the lip color, giving yourself a brief once-over to decide whether or not you feel the need to adjust your hair or if you will wear falsies or not, you frown ever so slightly, then let out a sigh.

You hate this. 

This is the third “meeting” they’ve arranged for you this month, and they’d been at this for almost six months overall by now. This search for a ‘suitable husband’ was getting stale -  not to mention, time-consuming - and you weren’t sure you would be willing to appease your parents any longer.

In fact, you weren’t exactly sure you were interested in a partner anymore. The clock would hit thirty any moment now, and the math of falling in love, getting married, having kids, and still heading a successful company no longer seemed to be adding up. You didn’t know how exactly to tell your sweet parents who were the picture of domestic bliss that they’d probably have to give up on the idea of grandchildren, and consider raising puppies instead.

Regardless, for the time being, you could still bother to meet this stranger for dinner.

There’s a clasp seal envelope atop your dresser - a portfolio that had been left on your desk by your father’s assistant at the beginning of the week - that still seems entirely too formal for the process. This is matchmaking, not a job application, was the first thought that came to mind once you realized the envelope held a set of photos, a resume and an admittedly curt but formally written statement reminiscent of a cover letter.

Ushijima Wakatoshi, the signature at the bottom of the letter read in an extremely neat script. He must be particularly organized and detail-oriented.

There were two pictures, one that looked almost like a passport photo and the other much more relaxed, where he was dressed casually in a t-shirt and pressed jeans, standing with his arms crossed beside a redheaded man whose smile was wide and infectious, his arm around his neck. You wondered if he picked those photos himself. 

You’d perused the first photo much more carefully because you could see more of his face. He’s quite handsome, you’d admitted, the faintest warmth in your cheeks, but he seemed awfully uptight. For one, the look on his face was very neutral, not bothering to smile. He was clean shaven and his hair was close cropped at the edges, a woody brown that paired well with serious olive eyes. You wondered if he ever laughed out loud, and what he looked like when he did.

The taxi driver is prompt and waiting outside of the high-rise in which you live by the time you make your way down the elevator. The click of your heels is loud on the tile as you make your way past the revolving doors. As you slip into the back of the car, you wonder if you’re dressed too professionally. You may have forgone the women’s pantsuit, but you’re still wearing a feminine pantsuit-esque ensemble in a creamy beige - pink would have seemed too ditzy, white would have seemed a bit too innocent (not to mention risky) and yellow too juvenile.

You’re not sure why you’re thinking so hard about this, but really years of paying attention to your appearance in public, not being taken seriously because you’re pretty and young and your personality is more bubbly than bossy puts you on your guard, especially when it comes to first impressions.

The location appears to be an upscale sushi restaurant, the type that you have to call ahead for months to get a reservation unless you have some kind of special arrangement with the owner. A staff member checks you in and brings you to the back to a private room, and as you pass through the dimly lit hallway, clutching your purse a little too securely, a scene from a yakuza movie comes to mind.

“Your room, madam,” the young man nods and motions you to enter a room that is brightly lit enough that it is almost blinding, large and round as though you were in a fishbowl yourself. You look up and notice that even the ceiling is curved. Elaborate paintings hang off the wall. 

He’s not here.

You glance at the attendant and he raises his eyebrows as though he is expecting you to say something. You must look surprised, and continue to look so as you remove your shoes to sit at one of the thin mattresses set before the low table.

You wish you’d worn stockings perhaps, tucking your bare feet beneath you in a casual seiza position. You can’t recall the last time you’ve been this traditional/formal, and the thought of a man you barely know already knowing what your feet look like bare bothers you just a bit. 

The attendant pours water and then tea for two wordlessly and slips out of the room. 

Your heart pounds once you’re finally alone. Why is this so intense? 

You fidget nervously with the thin silver necklace you are wearing, looking for a menu. There is none so far. Just square plates, both chopsticks and forks (odd for sushi, you think), and a steaming cup of tea set right next to a sweltering crystal glass of ice cold water. Opposites.

For a fleeting moment, you actually wonder for once if this man will like you. 

“My apologies, Ms. ___.”

You’re startled by a rich voice, a tiny gasp revealing that you’re more spooked than you realize, and your eyes shift towards the direction of the sound to see what looks like your date finally arriving in a hurry. 

You instinctively readjust yourself onto your knees to look formal, then realize you should probably stand instead, but before you can get up he waves you to sit back down, now settling down himself across from you.

“I had intended to arrive early but quite a few things happened at the company to make that unfeasible.”

He said this while removing a suit jacket in a way that was in no way intended to be sexy, not at all, then let out what sounded like a single, semi-nervous chuckle. 

Wordlessly, you replied with a nod, transfixed as you compared photography to reality. The photos didn’t do him justice, not at all. The suit jacket was picked up quickly by a waiter who you had forgotten was still in the room.

Ushijima extended an arm to you across the table, intending to shake your hand.

“Did you wait long?” He asks as you shakily take his hand for a handshake that consumes your hand almost entirely in his large one.

You shake your head, then embarrassed when you realize you aren’t using your voice, and add, “No, I didn’t wait long...”

“Are you hungry?” He replies, quickly. Your instinct is to say no, no you didn’t need anything, especially not from him, but you are pretty sure your stomach would growl loudly any minute now, and you’d only look like a fool. 

Ushijima glances at the waiter, who finally hands the two of you menus.

“Please order anything you like.”

You look down, swallowing hard again, and for a moment it is difficult to focus on the unnecessarily elaborate handwriting on the menu.

Something about him already grates on your nerves and you couldn’t exactly pinpoint what. You could forgive people for being late, and you were used to people being a little forward, but something about the way he was both familiar and unfamiliar in the way he spoke to you seemed to veer into patronizing behavior. 

Why wasn’t he nervous? Every man you’d sat across from in the past half a year had just a little waver in their voice when they spoke to you at some point, even those who had started off boasting their fancy degrees and their villas and their large bank accounts. 

But he sits perfectly still, all broad shoulders, gently wafting cologne, and a gaze that is both disconcerting and impartial, so you don’t know what to think. 

When you look up from the menu to him, his eyes are still heavily focused on you, and you can’t really fault him. There’s nothing else to look at in this room, after all.

You take this opportunity to tease him. No man has ever intimidated you before and this one is no different.

“Are you going to order anything? I barely saw you look at the menu.” Your voice is light and coquettish and it implies, all you’re doing is staring at me.

“I already know my order. I’ve been here enough times,” he replies, immune to the playfulness in your voice. You watch him roll up his sleeves as he answers, and take note of the shape of his hands as he takes a sip of tea.

Maybe you’re the one staring.

“Would you like a recommendation?” He offers as he sets the cup down. 

You shake your head no, and wonder again why you’re making gestures instead of talking. He smiles as though he can read your mind.

Once the waiter takes your orders and leaves the room, you’re left in silence, facing your would-be partner. It’s a stalemate of sorts and you lose, asking the first personal question.

But you ask it semi-clinically, refusing to lose the upper hand. You’re not sure why there’s an upper hand, but there is, and it will be yours.

“I read a little about your company before arriving. You gave me quite a few details, which I appreciated,” you state, turning your head to the side politely to take a sip of tea yourself. “You’ve done very well for yourself as CEO,” you add.

His eyes don’t crinkle from the flattery. “My employees do great work at all levels so it’s only natural that there would be positive growth,” he replies matter-of-factly.

You smile politely, but this answer doesn’t give you very much information about him. He’s shifting the success away from him, you remark, however he accepts the compliment as though expected. Is this genuine humility or arrogance?

You lean very slightly forward, just enough to see if he’ll take the opportunity to glance down your blouse, as other suitors have invariably done. He doesn’t, and you proceed to ask the next question.

“What do you do outside of work?”

His eyebrows raise, and you wonder if it’s because he realizes you are pretending you didn’t read that section on his application, but he answers anyway.

“I don’t have very much free time, as you are probably aware, but I garden and paint. And of course, I like to keep fit through team sports.”

A quick look at him makes that last part quite clear. You clear your throat slightly and then it is silent again. It’s not exactly an uncomfortable silence, but it’s not comfortable either.

Just as you wonder why he isn’t asking you any questions, he suddenly speaks up.

“Pardon me if this sounds inappropriate, but you’re beautiful. Why would you need a matchmaking service?”

You’re taken aback, and while your brain is scrambling for understanding of what his intentions are, he adjusts his sitting position so that he’s cross-legged with both hands on his knees and lets out a sigh before continuing.

“You’re also accomplished and clearly articulate. I don’t imagine you’d have trouble finding a partner through more organic means.”

It seems like there are a million butterflies that suddenly inhabit the small space in the pit of your stomach. Again, you’re at a loss for words, something that is rare for someone as opinionated and cordially fierce as you.

Should you be offended? It’s almost as though he’s asking what’s wrong with you?

He asks frankly, “Why a blind date?”

You want to ask him the same question, but you hear the waiter return and you fall silent, letting the butterflies in your stomach die down.

---

“I-is this the first time - ah - you’ve done this?”

You’re no longer laid out on the tatami like you were just an hour earlier, Ushijima nibbling on your lower lip and your collarbones instead of the overpriced, high-quality fish that sat atop your table, but now laid under him, spread eagle save for the hands you use to hold on to his shoulders as he slowly and deliberately thrusts inside you. 

Your voice is breathy and catches in your throat every time he moves, but you have to know. How often has he ended up like this?

The heat that fills your whole body now isn’t just from the shame of letting a stranger fondle your body in an upscale restaurant, it’s because Ushijima somehow knows exactly where and how to touch you, as though he’s always known. His fingers have traveled your body like a hiker on a well-beaten path, from the softness behind your earlobes to your squishy center and back, and now have settled into a hold that is firm yet gentle on your hips. 

When he replies “no” with immense honesty, his mouth sinks into the crook of your neck and he goes just deep enough that you don’t have time to factor this new information into your impression of him.

So instead you savor the thickness that fills you and the strength that holds you close, the soft grunts that fill your ears before they get drowned out by your equally loud whimpers and moans.

---

You don’t spend the night, partially out of shame that Ushijima bedded you so quickly and partially because you have a full schedule for the next morning. The parting of ways is brief and awkward and you seem to feel it more acutely than he does.

“I enjoyed our time, Miss ___,” he offers. You’ve dressed up faster than he has so you find yourself unwittingly ogling at the expanse of his sculpted chest and the flex of his muscles as he redresses. You’re almost sad to see him cover up.

You nod and walk out of the room, trying your best to hide the fact that your legs feel far too wobbly to be walking on these heels.

---

“Miss ____?”

Your eyes widen as you realize you’ve been daydreaming through a meeting with the board of trustees and now the wrinkled old men who hated the fact that your father thrust you into leadership you “didn’t deserve” are staring at you with disgruntled expressions.

“Oh, um,” you think quickly, recalling where the presentation left off and glancing quickly at the notes you’d jotted down on a notepad before wondering why Ushijima hadn’t called or texted since you met two weeks ago.

“Um?” The most senior of the group repeats, and your stomach turns for a moment before you steel yourself. He bares his teeth every time he’s displeased with you and you get the impression of an ancient and disgruntled wolf. 

You clear your throat loudly, and settle back in your chair, crossing your legs and your arms over your chest.

“I have some disagreements with the current approach, but I’ll start with the pertinent positives,” you start.

---

“Was the sex at least good?”

Your best friend from high school glances at you briefly, as you face forward on the Peloton you are riding side by side with her. She’s much less out of shape than you are given that she also is your personal trainer and thus rides hers effortlessly, taking some time to wait for you to respond.

You begrudgingly say yes.

“Wow, for once someone dropped you before you could drop them!” She teases in a sing-song voice. You would slap her on the shoulder if she was close enough and if you weren’t out of breath. It stings just a little bit that you’ve heard nothing from him nor the matchmaking company and don’t have a good response to tell your parents aside from I guess we didn’t click.

“He’s missing out, though.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you huff, and cycle faster. No hard feelings.

---

Scratch that, there were absolutely going to be hard feelings now that he was not just fucking with you but also with your livelihood.

Admittedly, it was strange that despite the fact that your companies had never crossed paths until now despite working in the same consumer domain but this was unacceptable.

You’d opened an email that had just slipped into your peripheral vision as you worked on reviewing a couple of interns’ executive summaries, only to find that Ushijima might have just royally fucked you over.

A curt email from a crucial business partner read,

We apologize but we’ve decided to move forward with Ushijima Industries instead. I understand that this is last minute, but we believe that it will be mutually beneficial to discontinue our relationship at this point in time.

Your blood boiled. What the fuck was this?

Your phone rang, one of your team leaders calling immediately and likely looking at the email at the same time you were. He apologized profusely.

“What happened?”

“It seems like they just showed up and offered twice as much as we offered them last minute.”

This bastard. Then in a moment of horror, you wondered if this was your fault, if you had blabbed a little while slightly tipsy off of sake, and revealed that you had this acquisition in the works.

Voice smaller now, you asked, “So we can’t do anything to woo them back?”

“No, I don’t think so. I just have to make sure our other deal doesn’t fall through,” the slightly frantic man answered, the sounds of keyboard keys clicking rapidly heard in the background of the call. 

“Okay, thank you for your hard work,” you stated. “I’ll see what I can do,” you replied with a click. 

Maybe calling someone who’d ghosted you as you drove home, fuming and irritated, wasn’t the best idea, but you needed to confront him somehow. The idea of being bested in more ways than one was too much to bear.

The phone rang once, twice, then three times, and you were getting angrier with every tone through the car speaker. You hung up in frustration.

How embarrassing.

You made it home still irritated, indulging yourself in a relaxing bath to quell your anger. By the time you had soaked for close to an hour, you were mad at yourself for reacting impulsively and now having your number in his phone as a missed call… if he recognized it anyway.

It turns out he did.

“Ms. ___, did you call me earlier? I wasn’t able to make it to the phone in time.”

His voice was even lower on the phone, a slightly gravelly quality making you wonder if he’d actually been napping or just had a smoke. You couldn’t imagine him doing either of these things.

“What kind of game are you playing, Mr. Ushijima?”

There was a bit of hesitation on the phone, and you let out a sardonic laugh once he replied, as expected, “What?”

“How did you know about that deal other than what I told you?”

He paused again, and you too, stood still, a towel wrapped around your still dripping body.

“I assure you, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he then said, carefully. “I, uh… assume you were calling about something else.”

You grit your teeth. What the fuck else? The fact that he sounded genuinely confused only served to aggravate you further.

“Did you or did you not use the information I gave you to intercept my deal with MNY?”

Finally the lightbulb went on.

“Oh, that was you. Hm.”

If you’d been talking in person, you probably would have slapped him at this point. Or at least considered it.

“I didn’t know you were our competitor in that aspect. I… probably would have reconsidered if I had known.”

“Excuse me?”

That tone of over-familiarity, patronizing… the care when you’re not supposed to care was back and you realized you regretted this phone call. 

“How would it be any different? Are you implying that you’d let me win?”

“No, of course not, I…” He trailed off. “Would you like to come over to my apartment and talk? I can give you my address, I would rather talk in person.”

Why? So I can get over there and end up fucking you again?

“I respectfully decline,” you answered curtly, and hung up, tossing your phone onto your bed and letting out an aggravated sigh. 

---

The next morning, you leave an early executive meeting only to find that your office had been overrun with flowers between the hours of 7 to 8 am.

There are yellow roses, stating admiration, spilling out of an oversized bouquet on your desk and a separate bouquet of light red carnations and white camellias that imply that he finds you ‘adorable’. A white card is placed in the yellow bouquet, and on it is written Ushijima’s neat script - you realize it’s from him before you even finish reading the note.

I would like to see you again. Please accept my call around 6 pm.

Respectfully, 

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Your hands hover over the wastebasket in your room with the flowers in your arms, but instead you sigh, and stuff them behind you on your shelf. At least you won’t have to see them while you work, but they’re pretty. They’re clearly bought from a floral shop, but you recall that he had said he gardened in his free time.

Ushijima calls promptly at 6 pm and you let it ring twice before deciding to block his number just as he’s calling. Something about the action is satisfying. 

You can’t be won over with a couple of flowers and kind words. Women aren’t as easily swayed as he may think.

---

It’s another Friday, and surprisingly you haven’t been contacted for a blind date, whether it’s by your parents or the matchmaking service they’ve subscribed you to.

Maybe they’d gotten the message after you’d been ghosted that you were tired of this game. Maybe they were giving you a break. Maybe they’d run out of potential suitors. You were surprised, but not upset.

Ushijima had truly gotten under your skin.

After blocking his call, there were no more attempts at contact for the rest of the week. The only thing left to consider was that if you ever crossed paths in your careers, you would pay him back for snatching your investor. 

And snatching your dignity in the process.

It was about 4 pm and most of the employees were wrapping up their tasks for the day. You usually aimed to have everyone out by 5, especially on Friday so this was boding well. 

“Hey, Madam President, are you okay with an add-on?” You hear your secretary call from outside your door.

“Oh, I mean, I guess but-”

She’s already letting Ushijima through the door.

You smile sweetly, maintaining professional behavior as best you can, while your secretary leads him to an armchair across from you, up until she exits, your expression souring the moment she closes the door.

“Mr. Ushijima, what are you doing in my office?”

He’s settled into the chair so comfortably that it feels as though you’re in his office, not your own. He’s dressed more casually than he was at the restaurant, no suit jacket, just a brown V-neck sweater over a dress shirt that almost seems too tight and a pair of chinos. He’s also wearing a pair of glasses, which is new. 

You hate that he looks good.

“Apologizing and requesting your company.”

He looks at you sincerely, his hands clasped together in his lap. You narrow your eyes.

“Please leave.”

He actually frowns, and the small action actually surprises you. 

“Do you actually want me to leave or are you still upset about the investor? Because if it’s that, we can make an arrangement-”

“No, I’m upset because you did that after not following up after our one night stand!” You finally blurt out, then bite your lip realizing you might have said too much.

“I… got busy.”

“Busy screwing me over?” You quip.

He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture.

“I didn’t call because I thought you didn’t like me.”

You’re a little stunned by this reply, then decide you don’t believe him. What was there not to like? At least at that point he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Why would you think that?”

His hands leave his hair again and rest on his knees. You notice it seems like a default position for him. 

“I’ve been referred to as ‘stiff’. It’s great at work but not great for relationships.”

Ushijima’s brutal honesty is again sending you for a loop. You raise an eyebrow, bidding him to continue. Your arms uncross and you rest your elbows on the table.

“So…?”

“So usually by the time I’ve had sex with someone, it’s all they’re after. And since you didn’t call, I assumed even the sex wasn’t good.”

You unwittingly burst into laughter. Here was this successful, attractive man with a perfect pedigree who was insecure about how good he was in bed?

His eyebrows furrow, and you recollect yourself, realizing that this is a bit cruel.

“You could have sent a text,” you murmur.

“I’m bad at starting conversations.”

You stifle another laugh. “So you just don’t?” You tease. It’s gently mocking but mostly incredulous. It seems that he’s the opposite of the confident man he appears to be.

“That’s why I got excited when you called but then you were upset.”

You purse your lips.

“I promise I didn’t intend to put you in a bad situation,” Ushijima insists.

You sigh, then offer him a small smile. “Are you normally this persistent?”

He glances at the flowers that are only partially hidden from view, which makes your face warm up bashfully, and then looks right back at you.

“No. I just like you.”

Again with the directness, a confidence that is effortless, even when he’s not confident at all.

You don’t want to melt but you do. So instead you rise and clear your desk, stuffing a few items into your handbag as you prepare to leave. He watches, unsure of what you’re up to, sitting still as you walk around towards him and place your hand lightly on his shoulder.

Your body faces the door, but you turn to the side to look at him and grin.

“I’m done with work for today. Take me out.”

---

A couple months later...

“Fuck, you’re - ah - they’re gonna know, I-” Your voice morphs into a mewl instead once his ring finger reaches just the right spot; you’re squirming as much as possible under his touch but he has you laid back on your work desk with both ankles rested on his shoulders and his weight leaning onto you to essentially keep you in place.

“Move your hands,” Ushijima whispers in a hushed tone, leaning in to kiss between your breasts as he readjusts your legs atop him. His pants are down and his cock is already up and ready, the base and swollen balls rubbing against your wet cunt that you are desperately trying to protect from his intrusion. You know there’s absolutely no way you’ll stay quiet when he’s pounding the shit out of you, he likes it entirely too rough, and the walls are thin. You don’t listen, continuing to reach for his hands to swat them away from you.

There’s a part of you that is almost certain that at the very least your secretary knows that every time Ushijima comes for a ‘meeting’, it really is just to fuck the shit out of you before you leave together for the evening, or to relax you right before you once again have to defend your dad’s establishment of you as Company President.

This isn’t a good look.

“I-I can’t…” you whine.

“You can,” he assures you.

He gently kisses your face before prying your hands out of the way and keeping them pinned up against you with one hand and guiding his trajectory with the other before sinking inside of you. You moan at the breach of your privates and he quickly presses his lips to yours to swallow the sound.

Once he’s bottomed out, he rolls his hips, and soon you start to see white once you climax, clenching and cumming around him.

“T-Toshi!” You moan his name, and he clasps a large hand around your mouth before continuing, picking up the pace as he fucks you through your orgasm. He can’t deny that he likes the fact that you’re noisy, that the fact that the heavy desk he’s fucking you against is making a squeaky noise that suggests he’s really putting some force behind these strokes, and that if anyone could see the two of you now, it could be an issue for both of your corporations. Misconduct, they would call it.

He doesn’t care and while you act like you do, you don’t really care either. 

When he lets go of your wrists to use the edge of the desk as leverage and tilts backwards, you scream in pleasure, a terribly obvious sound, and it’s enough to have him tip over and spill into you with a groan. He collapses onto you and the two of you almost slip onto the floor, but don’t; you wrap your arms around him. 

Your hair is disheveled and so is his, and your legs are sticky with sweat and cum. You sigh, letting him soften inside you and stroke his hair.

“You’re getting me in trouble,” you murmur, and he lets out a breathy laugh.

“We don’t really have to answer to anyone, do we?” He replies with a smirk, and pecks you one more time on the lips.

He’s right - only you two are a match for each other.

[runwithwolvcs]

You Know I'm No Good - thirty three

Senior Symposium

No warnings

Two weeks. Thats how long it had been since Tallulah had spent longer than fifteen minutes with Paul, and it showed. Winona had let her skip school twice, and had taken those days off of work to spend time with her. Taking her to the Uley bookshop in La Push, the art supply store, anything to get a little happy energy out of her daughter.

It wasn’t until Lina, Tallulah’s bestfriend from Seattle, messaged her asking if she would be able to make it to Seattle for Keatons School of the Arts annual senior symposium that Tallulah’s energy returned. Tallulah had promised at the beginning of the school year that she would go, even if she understood very little about ballet, Lina’s specialty. She would be damned if she missed potentially the last opprtunity to see her.

Now, they stood in the passenger waiting area at 6:15 in the morning , waiting for the bus that would take Tallulah the two and half hours to Seattle.

“The last bus is at 10:45. Do not miss it, do you understand, Lula?” Winonas voice was stern, the bustling noise of the commuters around them making it hard for Tallulah to focus on her moms tough parent schtick. She was just grateful she agreed to let her go alone.

“Yes, mom. I won’t miss it.” Tallulah promised for what felt like the fifth time.

“Im trusting you with this. I know things have been tough lately.” she said wrapping her arms around her daughter. Six months ago, saying no to this trip would have been a no brainer, but she had proven how much she had grown since being in La Push. whether that was due to the imprint or not was yet to be determined.

Tallulah groaned, hugging her back, “Mom, I’ll be fine.”

An announcement sounds for passengers to start boarding the bus to Seattle, and Tallulah can’t help but bounce eagerly in her moms embrace, “I gotta go. Ill be back tonight, before 10:45. Promise.”

---

Arriving early to the place she used to call home, she had enough time to stop at her favourite cafe before heading towards her old school. Taken the same route she did for nearly five years. 

Keaton School of the Arts was a grade 6 - 12 that was meant for kids in different areas of the arts to hone their special talents. Her grandma had taught there for a while in the music department and insisted that her mother enroll her when she was of age. Being Tallulahs greatest supporter in her artistic journey, she rememberd her house being decorated with only her art, though that might have to do more so with the fact that she was her only grandchild. She hoped she would still be proud of her, even though she wouldnt be graduating from Keaton.

Tallulah took her time, walking down the fine arts hallways, seeing all the senior portfolios that were on display. It was bittersweet considered her halffinished one sat at home collecting dust in a drawer.

“Luie?” She heard the nickname that made her blood run cold.

Turning to see Xander closing in on her, she took a deep breath and a sip of cooling latte. Her nerves being set a blaze, but not in the way that a certain wolf had her keening for lately.

“Hey.” she said awkwardly, given their last interaction.

“Since when have you been back? A text would’ve been nice, we could’ve caught up.”

He prodded, going for a hug, causing her to take a step back. Paul had sniffed out Chase who had barely touched her, if he caught wind of Xander she couldn’t imagine what his reaction would be, but she knew it wouldn’t be good.

“I’m just here for the day. For Lina.” she stammered, making it clear who she was here for.

“Right, the senior performance.” He bit his lip, eyeing her, making her completely uncomfortable under his gaze. “Maybe after we can quickly catch up, hm?”

“Yeah, I’m sure my boyfriend would really appreciate that.” she noted sarcastically.

“Boyfriend? You don’t have boyfriends.” he laughed, not taking her seriously

“Well, now I do, so if you will excuse me, I’d like to go watch my friend perform.” she pushed past him, not wanting to spend another second near him.

“Let me know if you change your mind!” Xander called after her.

--

“Hey, hey, tiny dancer.” Tallulah said, walking up to a petite blonde sitting at one of the many picnic tables in the familiar courtyard, their usual meeting spot. The peformance had gone amazingly with no more interactions with Xander.

“I can't believe you made it!” Lina said, standing up and hugging Tallulah tightly.

She hugged her back, just as tightly having missed her all these months, “I know, I know. With Paul being gone for a little bit, it was pretty easy to guilt her.”

“Paul?” Lina asked curiously, as she pulled away to sit back down, Tallulah sitting next to her.

“My boyfriend. It’s kinda new..” she trailed off, not sure how her bestfriend would react.

“Pictures, pictures, I need pictures, Tally,” her best friend squealed, squirming excitedly in her seat across from her.

She grinned and pulled out her phone, showing her a few photos she had taken of him. Mostly during lazy moments together.

Taking the phone from Tallulah and into her own hands, Lina exclaimed, “Holy fuck, he’s hot. That's the dude who took you home from the club, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded in confirmation, surprised she had even remembered that.

“How old is he?” Lina asked curiously.

“Twenty-six, twenty seven next week.” she admitted, causing Lina to let out a low whistle.

“And the sex?” Lina asked, wiggling her eyebrows

Tallulah blushed, “really good.”

“Ugh, I’m so jealous. I want a mega hot, older boyfriend. Maybe I should move to La Push.” she joked

“I heard back from Parsons.” she said, changing the subject to not mention the whole imprint debacle. Though she did think it would be kind of cool if one of the pack members did imprint on her best friend and they could have that shared experience together and Talullah wouldn’t have to keep such a giant secret from Lina. She doubted it considering she’s not of Quileute descent.

“They want a full portfolio.” Tallulah continued.

“That's amazing, Tally! You at Parsons and me at Juliard taking on  New York City like the fucking Olsen twins.”

“I don’t think I’d choose Parsons. Tacoma has a really good school, and I’d be close to Paul.” she admitted, the first time she had told anyone other than Paul.

“It’s that serious?”

“Kind of.” Tallulah said quietly, blushing at the fact.

“Oh, my baby is all grown up and in L-O-V-E!” Lina said in a singsong voice.

“Shh,” she said, pressing her hand to Linas mouth as the two girls began to laugh.

“You know, Xan and Kit have been hooking up since the day you left. It’s disgusting, I can’t even stand to be around either of them. Especially Kit.” she confessed, and Tallulah wasn’t even all that surprised. Though she was a little hurt that someone she considered her best friend, like Kit, who knew all her dirty, dark secrets, would get with someone like Xander. Who she had been blinded by for so long.

“That explains why I haven’t heard from Kit.” Tallulah mused.

“Screw her. We only need each other, besties for life, remember?” Lina said, throwing her arm over Tallulahs shoulders.

Tallulah nodded, “You should come to Forks in the summer and stay for like a week. You can meet Paul, and see La Push. I’m sure my mom misses you too.”

“Yes! I can convince my mom to come too, they can do whatever single moms do together and you can find me a boyfriend with tan skin.” Lina joked, they both knew she had zero time for a boyfriend.

“This is going to be the best summer ever!” Tallulah said, hugging her best friend tightly, both girls squealing with excitement.

Taglist: @cperry0516 , @bhasbhabiessss, @fuzzyfingersandcavier@haventdecidedyet @alwayshave-faith @emmettcullenswife @kingniazx @sorrow-and-bliss@swidkid

[lilyharvord]

Meet Me at Our Spot

  HELLO EVERYONE!! Vet school turned its back for a day and I was able to finish this one for you all. ((: Here is a lovely little one shot that is rated M people, so please read responsibly. Office AU because someone asked for it once upon a time and the image of Cal in one of those well tailored shirts/suits with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows has lived in my head rent free since then. So enjoy!!! ((: 

also, I’m obsessed with that song Meet Me at Our Spot by Willow and The Anxiety (specifically the live version). So that’s the vibe were going for. (:

find it on Ao3 too: link

Mare Barrow always felt underdressed when she entered the massive glass and steel structure that housed the Calore enterprises. Even when she put on her only pair on heels, and a nice outfit, she felt like a smudge of dirt on the pristine floors. Today though, she was determined to not feel that way. She had a plan, a vision, and she was not about to let some socially constructed idea like dress code ruin it for her.

           Striding up to the main desk before the elevators that lead to the corporate side of the building, she planted herself firmly before Tiria and cleared her throat to announce her presence.

           The young woman looked up from the book she was scribbling things in and held up a finger as she spoke into the receiver cradled in her other hand.

“Of course sir. Yes, two on Friday.”

With a sigh, Mare braced her forearms on the counter and glanced out at the massive atrium next to her. Multiple people strolled by in their nice suits and tight business dresses, carrying portfolios and briefcases and talking heatedly about a number of things. She got a few looks from them for her baggy sweatpants, oversized jacket, and faded ugly sneakers. She simply smirked back at them in response, a glint in her eye that dared them to talk about her after they had passed.

No one had ever really gotten a good look at her here, and if they had, it was when she was quickly being ushered past this front desk and into the elevators behind it. She was, for all intents and purposes, a very well-kept secret. One that was mandatory to remain a secret, given her position and her affiliation with this place.

Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would ever set foot in a place like this, let alone be associated with the circle she now tenuously walked through. It had its perks though, like getting to give a bright shiny middle finger smile to the people Farley would have spit at. Mare couldn’t exactly spit like she wanted to though, because she happened to enjoy being around one of them. And she was supposed to be on her best behavior when she was in this building. It was part of the stupid rules she had been forced to agree to a year ago.

Rule number one: No one can know your name, where you are from, and who you are.

Rule Number two: best behavior at all times when you are in the building or near him. No exceptions.

Rule number three: You are not allowed to show up unannounced or uninvited.

           Well rule number three could just go fuck itself today, and rule number two could join it. The rules were just a way of making sure that the pristine reputation of this place didn’t get tarnished in the tabloids. She had laughed herself hoarse when they brought her into that dim conference room and dropped the pile of papers with the rules outlining everything in front of her. She never thought getting into a relationship would feel like a contract or a business deal but somehow this was made into one. Then again, the Calore family could make a business deal out of a child’s pretend game.

“Yes sir, I will let them know. Thank you for confirming, we will see you then.”

Tiria snapped the receiver back into the cradle and turning a scrutinizing eye to Mare she quirked a perfectly manicured brow. Every front desk girl in the world honestly looked the same to Mare, and in this place, there was no exceptions.

“Can I help you?”

“I have an appointment.” Mare said as she pressed onto her toes and pointed with a finger randomly into Tiria’s book.

The girl looked down at the line Mare pointed to with a frown while Mare swiped the key card Tiria always kept just under the ledge with her other hand. Tucking it into her pocket, she forced her eyes wide in a fake showing of bewilderment as Tiria gave her a contempt glare when there was nothing on the line.

“I could have sworn I called!” Mare gasped as she pressed herself up onto the counter to teeter further over it while her feet dangled. Damn these stupid things were high. She should have worn heels just so she could actually see over the top of the counter. “Maybe I should have called to confirm.”

“Miss Barrow, please stay on that side of the counter.” Tiria sighed as she leaned back in her chair.

Sliding down and dropping with a huff, Mare crossed her arms, trying to mimic the expression she saw most of these people give when they didn’t get what they wanted. “I want to go up.”

           Forcing her sigh through her nose so it wasn’t as obvious, Tiria shook her head and adjusted a pen that had moved out of its perfectly straight line. “You’re not supposed to be here today. Don’t make me call security.”

           “Well that would announce my presence.” Mare argued before picking up her backpack. “Besides, I’ll only be ten minutes.”

           “Miss Barrow, I like my job and want to keep it. Leave.”

           Letting out her own exaggerated sigh, Mare threw her hands up and spun on her heel to leave. “Honestly, you’d think I’d get a free pass giving who I’m dating in this place.”

           Peeking over her shoulder to see if Tiria was still paying attention, she smirked as the girl dropped her head to write something down. One of the benefits of everyone looking down on her here was that as soon as she turned around, she was out of sight and out of mind. It made sneaking around easier.

           Spinning back around, she scurried over to the elevators, ducking below the ledge of the counter slightly in case Tiria looked up again. Humming a song she heard on the radio to herself, she swiped the card and pushed the button to call the elevator. She had joked once this place was locked up tighter than a military institution, only to learn there was a reason for that. She doubted she could just swipe a key card and sneak into the Pentagon though.

           The doors opened with a little ding, and she glanced over her shoulder once before darting in and pressing the button for the top floor. She had to swipe the key card again and punch in a four digit code she memorized weeks ago, but the doors still slid shut and the massive glass box rose.

           Grinning like a fiend, Mare glanced over her shoulder at the green land stretching out behind her. She had to borrow Bree’s car to drive out to this place, and it almost didn’t make it. Her brother’s check engine light had been on since he bought the car, but he assured her it could make it the fifty mile trip and back. It had coughed the whole way, but it got her here. Beyond the trees she could just make out the highway she took with cars rushing along it.

           The first time she saw this place, she was afraid of it. Why was it so far away from everything, why was it so tucked away? What were they trying to hide behind the wall of trees? She hadn’t entire believed the excuses they gave, but she was at least certain they weren’t building nuclear weapons at this place.

           The doors slid open silently to a long hallway with dark floors and another bank of windows for a wall. Stepping out into the sunshine, Mare strolled forward, adjusting her hair and jacket as she went. Turning a corner, she passed a few smaller offices that belonged to some of the board members that held staff positions. The only one that was closed belonged to one of the only people she really, really didn’t want to see.

           Volo Samos made her nervous. If there was anyone who might be trying to make a nuclear weapon in this place, it was that man. She edged by his office, glancing through the swaying vertical shades to see if he was actually there or he had left for lunch. He was sitting at his desk on the phone.

Scurrying past him, Mare quickened her pace. If he was here, then the rest of the board might be too. Which meant she might be walking in on a meeting. Not exactly the best option, and neither was sitting outside in the hall and waiting.

           She had been so certain that there was nothing happening this week. She had planned everything around that fact. Maybe she should have called… just to make sure before she drove all the way out here.

           Before she knew it though, she was standing before the heavy dark wood doors at the end of that hall. She had never been nervous to open them. They were intimidating with an exterior that was meant to deter people, but once you opened them and peeked inside there was nothing to fear, just like with the man behind them. She knew that, and yet, she had to squash the shake in her hand as she nudge the door open a fraction.

           The office was empty.

           Throwing the door open all the way, she stepped inside and glanced awkwardly around the space. She had spent enough time in here that she knew there were very few places to hide. Not that Cal would have any reason to hide in his own office. Pursing her lips she pushed the door closed and stormed over to the desk before throwing her bag down behind it and tossing herself into the chair. It spun in a slow circle with her momentum until she faced the back windows. Slouching down she tried to determine her next move with a pout. Maybe he had left for lunch. It wouldn’t surprise her. If the board members were here, then he might have had to play the good CEO and daddy’s boy he was supposed to be and taken them all to lunch to placate them. But Volo was here… so maybe they hadn’t gone to lunch?

           She had put makeup on for this surprise. Honestly, was it so hard for him to be in the place he was supposed to be at this time?

           Forcing out a sigh, she crossed her arms and spun the chair back around with her toes to look at the papers scattered around the desk. Cal was perhaps one of the most messily organized people she had ever met. He was an oxymoron himself though, so it only made sense. She picked up a thick stack of papers that were clipped together and lifted one of the corners between her finger and thumb like it was radioactive. She didn’t understand a word on the next page or the numbers scribbled in the margins. Putting it back in its place she glanced at the few pictures he kept on his desk.

           The first time she had been in his office he had been on a phone call, and she had to entertain herself. She had picked up the pictures and made up the stories behind them while he watched her out of the corner of his eye. The picture of the two little boys crouched and playing in the mud on the edge of a lake was her favorite. She had been confused by it at first, until she saw the one next to it, with the same two boys almost a decade later in front of the Roman Coliseum.

Cal and his brother vaguely looked like brothers. They had similar features, but they wore them very differently. Where Cal was tall and broad, his younger brother was lean and sharp. Their eyes were strikingly different, but it was to be expected. She’d met Maven twice in the year she’d dated Cal. The first time was when he flew home for their father’s retirement party. He’d been quiet and reserved the whole evening until Cal dragged him out for a drink with her after to introduce them, properly as Cal had teased. When the brothers were alone and not around their father, they were different people. Maven especially. He seemed to soften, to melt a little bit. It had surprised her that someone could be so different just because the personnel around them changed. But Maven was a master of it.

The second time she’d seen him, Cal dragged her halfway across the world to Scotland to surprise Maven on his birthday. Cal’s brother lived as far from their father as possible, and honestly, Mare didn’t blame him. Unfortunately, Cal wasn’t afforded that luxury. Hence the rule book she had to follow.

           He had a picture with his uncle next to that. The man was a few years younger than her father, but he caried those years poorly. Still, he adored Mare,  and she didn’t have to pretend to tolerate him, unlike most of the other people that surrounded Cal at a given time.

A picture with his father was next to that one. It was a close second favorite of Mare’s. She couldn’t stand his father, the man was insufferable, but she loved to look at the younger version of Cal. He looked impossibly different as a kid, so different she almost hadn’t recognized him in the picture. She had told him that he reminded her of a taffy piece that was pulled too long in that picture. He was only ten in it, but his legs were already too long for him, and he was thin as a pole. He certainly had grown into his body, but the smile he gave to the camera there… he only gave it to her now. Or at least, she thought he did. She’d never seen him smile that brightly at anyone else.

           Next to that, tucked almost behind the other pictures was a photograph of a young woman in a window box with a toddler resting on her legs. She smiled at him, clutching his hands in hers, completely unaware of the camera trained on her. Cal didn’t talk about it, or the woman in it, but Mare wormed it out of Julian that Cal’s mother was a sore subject with everyone. Even though she was smiling in the picture, Mare could almost sense the sadness that radiated from her. She didn’t look much older than Mare in that picture. No doubt she had been tied up with the same strings and restrictions Mare faced now. If that were the case, Mare wasn’t surprised she had been so sad. The rules and regulations that came with dating a powerful person were like a cage. It worried Mare some days. She didn’t like being confined, but when she was with Cal away from all of this, she didn’t feel that way. It was only when they were together around other people that she did. More oxymorons where the man was concerned.

           The door into the office opened and Mare snapped to attention as Cal stepped in. His hands were full with papers he shuffled through while balancing his phone on his shoulder and speaking with someone. He’d nudged the door open with his hip and because of that, he had yet to turn and face her.

           Even though she hated all the restrictions she had to face while she dated him, she knew they didn’t truly bother her because he was hers. All of him carefully folded into a suit that hugged every muscle made her stomach tighten and other parts flutter. And all of it was hers, some nobody from a backwater city block. She sometimes felt like a tiny dragon hording a single coin when she was with him. She didn’t have much to her name, never had and probably never would, but he was hers. She wasn’t sure if she would get to keep him, but she planned to enjoy every last second that she could with him.

           Her lips curled into a smile as she leaned back in the chair and crossed her leg over the other, trying to paint a picture of coyness. It was probably not the best showing of it, but Cal was a miserable good boy who couldn’t handle anything remotely teasing.

           The papers ended up on the other side of the desk from her, while he shifted to hold the phone and rest his other fist on the table. The muscle in his jaw that always twitched when he was irritated fluttered like a bird’s wing now. He pressed his fingers into his closed eyes as if he could force whatever headache was probably there away with just that touch.

           “We didn’t agree to that when we signed the papers. They can’t come back and impose that restriction on us now.”            She squirmed in the chair at the tone in his voice. There were multiple sides to Cal that she had seen. There was her Cal, who had no idea how to dance, and who blushed whenever she teased him. Then there was the Cal she sometimes got at one in the morning who would grab the inside of her leg while he whispered in her ear exactly what he was going to do. Then there was this Cal. The one who had been heir to an empire company since the day he was born, and who could command a room like it was any other Tuesday. Sometimes it was hot to watch him do it. Right now though, it was the opposite. He wasn’t happy with something, and it honestly sounded like the last thing he needed was her here.

           She decided she definitely should have called before coming.

           Edging the chair back with her toes, it squeaked as it went over the floor, and his eyes darted up to her before widening.

           With an awkward smile, she wiggled her fingers in greeting before spinning the chair to face the back windows. Her cheeks were burning, and there were other parts that had melted to a very dangerous temperature. The look he gave her as he looked up at been fleeting, but it had been enough to put her on the teetering edge of deciding to grab him and pin him to the desk, or ask him to do just that with her.

           “Deal with this. Don’t call back until you have.”

           The silence following his words told her, that she was now the singular focus of his attention. His gaze was like a brand even through the leather of the chair. Crossing her arms and adjusting her posture accordingly, she went to spin the chair back around. He beat her to it though, spinning it to face him and tipping it back slightly so she had an easier time looking up at him.

           “I don’t believe I left anything at the apartment.”

           “You left me.” Mare pouted with a withering stare in his direction.

           “Very funny. Now how did you even get up here?”

           With a smirk, Mare fished the ID card out of her pocket and flashed it before him proudly. He snatched it from her hand with a startled gasp.

           “Mare… what the… what are you a thief now?”

           “Obviously.” She waved her hand to dismiss his comment before gesturing to the card. “You should really get lanyards to put those on by the way. I just kinda grabbed that off her desk. And if I got it anyone else could have—”  

           “You can’t go around stealing people’s ID cards. She needs this to get around the building.” He gestured at her with it, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

           “Well I needed it more in the moment.” Mare reasoned with a smile before leaning back in the chair. She didn’t really feel that bad, but the worry starting to etch itself into Cal’s brows did make her feel a little guilty.

           He tossed it unceremoniously onto the desk before sitting on the edge of it and massaging his face slowly with his hands.

“While I’m happy to see you, I don’t have time to deal with anything outside of work today.” His words were muffled by his palms but she could still hear every stressed syllable. Even when his work got stressful, which it undoubtably was at times, he still could push it aside whenever he saw her. Whatever he had been on the phone about had been serious, serious enough that he actually wasn’t all that happy to see her.

           “What happened?” Mare asked, scooting the chair close enough for her to set her hands on his thighs and squeeze gently. Now was not the time to be thinking about just how well that suit fit, but the thought still crossed her mind. Along with a few choice other thoughts.

           “Stupidity.”

           Cocking her head to the side, she waited for him to elaborate. It took him a moment, but he eventually dropped his hands and let his head fall back to look to the ceiling.

           “We signed papers on a deal a year ago. When that happens it’s done, the contract is sealed and stored away. In that contract, we agreed that should anything happen with a shipment, we were not liable. The group we shipped to doesn’t like that anymore, because a 30.5 million dollar shipment got lost.”

           Now it made sense to her. This wasn’t anger, or frustration. This was stress. Stress she could handle.

“How does one misplace 30.5 million dollars?” She teased before running hers hand up and down his legs.

“I don’t know. But there are five different parties all in a screaming match over it, including us. And if the other four don’t back down anytime soon, I’m going to have to find 30.5 million dollars somewhere.” His eyes darted down to her as she brushed her thumbs along the inside of his thighs. Glancing up through her lashes at him then, she tilted her head ever so slightly.

“And that is hard because?”

“Does it look like I have 30.5 million dollars lying around to just throw at someone?” He reasons, and the dips in his cadence brought a smirk to her lips. Now she had his attention. Pushing up to her feet she slid between his knees until she could drape her arms around his neck. Immediately, his hands found her hips and hugged her closer still.

“I’m sure there are one or two things you could sell in this building to cover that cost.” She ran her thumb along the back of his neck, before tracing the spot at the base of his jaw. His head tilted in the opposite direction, trying to escape the feather light touch. Both of them knew exactly what it did after all. Smirking at his reaction, Mare ran her other hand along his shoulder, tracing the contours she knew by heart.

“I bet I could pick out one of two things.”

“I don’t need to find the thirty and a half because it’s not our fault what happened.” He squeezed her hips, and even though she could see the fight in his eyes, it was quickly guttering. The tension in his shoulders was still more than she would have liked, but that tended to be where he kept most of it.

“So stressed out over something that isn’t even your fault.” She teased as she pressed her thumb into the knot closest to his neck. He tensed under her, but didn’t speak. At this point, his voice had already dropped an octave, and Mare had known him long enough now to know that when he went silent like this, he was trying to hide just how far she had pushed him. “Do you want help releasing some of that?”

“Not unless you can get up in front of five different boards and convince them otherwise.” She had to admire how even he kept his voice. It still wavered in a few places as he tried to remain composed under her scrutiny. Dropping her hands from around his shoulders to land on his thighs again, she squeezed hard enough to emphasize her next point.

“That sounds like a challenge.” Mare actually witnessed his pupils dilate as she dropped her voice an octave too. “You and I both know it’s not much of one. I can be very persuasive.”

“You’re gonna get us both in more trouble than I can get us out of.” He whispered to her, a tiny smile lifting the edges of his lips. The glint in his eye made her stomach flutter, especially as he started to finger the waistband of her pants. She didn’t want him to put his hands under it just yet though, she still had one surprise she wanted to save.

Pulling back to slip out of his arms, she dropped back into the chair with a proud smirk. “Then I see no reason to not walk me down there, call up these assholes, and have me deal with them.”

His hands grasped the air where she had been a second ago as his mind failed to register her abrupt disappearance. Frowning, he leaned forward to grab the arms of the chair and pull her close again. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she watched him look her over and hold for a little too long on her lips.

“I’d love to see them try and deal with you.”

Oh she was going to make him sweat so very much.

Grabbing his face and yanking it down to hers, she crushed her lips against his. He tasted like mint toothpaste, and he smelled like that cologne she bought him for Christmas. Gisa said it was cheap, but he’s smiled and thanked her for it anyway. And now he was wearing it. The very idea sent a thrill through her.

With a groan, he slid his hands along her legs and then underneath them to grab her ass and hike her out of her chair until she was flush against his chest. Her lips curled into a smile as she took his lower lip between her teeth and pulled hard enough to draw a sound from the back of his throat. Knotting her fingers in his hair, she tugged and whispered, “You get to deal with me first.”

His eyes opened, barely an inch from hers, and the look in them sent a shiver down her spine. When he looked at her like that, it drove her half mad every time. “Put me down and I’ll show you just how persuasive I can be.”

He set her down with exaggerated stillness, making sure to drag her body along his so she could feel every inch of him. Smirking at getting her way, Mare nudged him back until he was sitting on his desk. Bracing her hands on either side of him, she asked, “Which do you want first? Surprise one, or surprise two?”

His brow quirked, and he slid a hand around her waist to pull her between his legs. “I want you, just you.”

When his voice dropped that deep, it made it very difficult to stay focused on what she had planned. But she wanted to see him squirm, and if there was anything Mare Barrow was, it was persistent.

“Surprise number two it is.” She grinned like a cat with a mouse as she hooked his belt with a finger and trailed it along the waistband of his pants to the buckle. Humming to herself, she undid it, sliding it through each loop like a needle with thread. When it was fully out, she held it up with a wink. “Give me your wrists.”

Even in the heat of it all, his cheeks burned. Immediately he put his hands behind his back. Pouting at his movement, she lowered the belt. “It’s no fun if you don’t play along.”

“Can’t be restrained. I may have to get to my phone.”

“Then I’ll answer it and tell them you’re busy.” She teased before cupping the back of his neck and pulling him close to ghost her lips across his. He sighed, and the tension in his shoulders melted as she ran her hand along one side. She loved when he scrambled in these moments. Locked between a rock and hard place, he was like turtle on its back. If all she had to do to knock him down was insinuate like this, she would do it every night.

When he pulled away with narrowed eyes, she released a mock exasperated sigh and tossed the belt away. “Fine, next time.” Without giving him a moment of relief, she unbuttoned his pants and tugged to start sliding them off. “But since it’s my job to help you relieve stress, here’s what I’m going to do.”

He visibly swallowed, even as he helped her slide his pants off. Running her hands up his legs after she dropped them, Mare chewed on her lip. “If you can keep it together for longer than ten minutes, I will let you do me from behind.”

His eyes widened, shock pouring out of every pore of his body. She hated that position, and always refused it. It was the most degrading thing, she insisted. If a man was going to fuck her, he should look her in the eye while he did it. She may be trash from the other side of the tracks, but she knew her worth.

           “Ten?” He breathed, his eyes darting to the clock on the wall next to them.

           “Ten.” She confirmed before crouching down. “But it has to be ten. If you cheat, I’ll know because I will be keeping track of the time.”

           His mouth opened to refute before closing with a snap.  She could see him working it over, trying to determine whether or not she would play fair. She never really did, but this time she made a promise to herself that she would. Besides, she trusted him to at least make the whole experience entertaining.

           “Clock starts when I do.” She teased before tugging on the waistband of his boxers, making the elastic snap back. He tensed at the feeling, until she pulled them off too.

           Perhaps it was the fact that she had snuck up here, or maybe it was the fact that anyone—including one of the most prestigious board members—could walk in on them at any second, but the sight of him sent electricity along every nerve in her body.

           It was ten minutes. He wouldn’t make it to five, she told herself as she dragged her tongue along her lower lip. With that thought for reassurance, she gripped his thighs and closed her mouth over his cock. Immediately she felt the muscles in his legs tense, and his breathing hitched. She hummed, almost laughing at his reaction as he immediately grabbed the hair on the back of her head and pulled. She slid back an inch before diving back down, taking more than she had before. The groan he released was loud enough that she almost paused to make sure no one had heard. There was the fun in this, she supposed, getting caught might be exciting.

           “Mare.” He gasped as she continued her ministrations, and began to trail her nails along his skin up to his hips. Forcing her head down further, he muttered a breathless apology when she gagged. Digging her nails and fingers into his skin, she smiled and hummed again.

           “Fuck.” He spit the word like poison and bucked against her, earning another hum from her. “Not fair, that’s not fair.” He panted as she picked up the pace of her work.

           His finger dug into her scalp as he pulled even harder on her hair. She stayed on like a leach though, stifling a laugh at his squirming. His other hand gripped the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white, and his legs tensed in time with each of her movements. But the stubborn bastard kept it together, and no matter what she tried in her arsenal, he only cursed and gripped that desk until she thought it might splinter.

           “Ten,” he crowed with a breathless laugh. “That’s ten.”

           Mare snapped away with a grunt, swiping her hand along her mouth, smearing the lip gloss across her cheek. Glowering up at him, she grumbled a curse word that would have made her mother slap her across the mouth. A deal was a deal.

           “Don’t look so bitter about it.” He teased, before cupping her face and lowering himself to capture her lips. His tongue darted along hers as his fingers gently pushed the hair he had pulled behind her ears.

           When she pulled away for air, her chest ached and the space between her legs ached even more. “I’ve got one more surprise for you.” She rose to her full height, and had the pleasure of seeing a bead of sweat roll down from his hairline. He had barely made it. If she was being honest, she would say that she hadn’t been keeping track of the time. She’d lost all of it to the feeling of his hips rocking and the tension of his muscles.

           Backing away a step, she winked at his confusion. “Remember a few weeks ago when I went to mall and made you go find something to do?” She fingered the zipper of her jacket, another bolt of electricity ran down her spine as he straightened up, completely attentive to her. “I was saving this for your birthday, but I got tired of waiting.”

As she went to unzip the jacket, he leaped, catching her hands almost knocking her over. Scrambling to stay on her feet, Mare let him take her whole weight as she gasped. “Fucking hell Cal—”

“Let me.” He smirked as he straightened her up and grabbed the zipper before she could. With a gentle tug, he unzipped it halfway, his eyes darkening again as he caught sight of the top half. She’d picked it carefully, the first time she’d ever done something like that honestly. Normally she grabbed things off the rack and hoped it matched. This though, she had taken her time selecting.

He had the jacket off in less than a heartbeat, and his fingers danced along the thin black lace of the corset. His eyes followed his hands as he searched the whole thing over, making her swallow in uncertainty. He trailed a knuckle along one of the many straps, his teeth obviously working at the inside of his cheek. Gently, he grabbed the waistband of her sweat pants and pulled them down as he dropped into a crouch before her. His eyes widened at the matching bottoms.

Immediately, his hands gripped the back of her legs as he glanced up at her. The weight of that stare could crush her if she didn’t realize that it was the most reverent of gazes. He looked at her like she had put the stars in the sky, and hung the moon too. It she was honest, she would admit that it might go to her head a little bit ans that the smile she gave him was mostly fed by that. She could bring this man to his knees by simply standing in a pair of lacy panties.

           “Where,” he voice cracked on the word, and his fingers dug into her hamstrings a little more before he dragged his lips up the inside of her bare thigh. “Where did you keep this?”

           Threading a hand through his hair, she exhaled in a sigh as his lips grazed the seam along the inside of her thigh. “You like it?”

           “I’ll like it better when it’s on the floor.” He murmured before sliding his hand up to grip her ass again. She almost yelped, and grabbing his shoulders she let out a breathless laugh as he pressed more kisses along the inside of her thigh.

           Standing up, he kept his hand on her as he lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and let him spin her around to the desk. With a quick sweep of his hand, he sent the papers all over it to the side before laying her down on it. With a tug, he dragged her back to the edge so she was still straddling him and braced his hands on either side of her head. She panted as she watched his lips curl into a hint of a smile.

           “Forget fucking you from behind.” He murmured, before lowering himself to trail his nose along her sternum. “I want to see every inch of you in this.”

           She grinned triumphantly as he slid a hand up her side to squeeze her breast, made far more generous with the help of the corset. It had been a good idea to listen to the pushy sales girl just because of that. “Good thing you don’t have to take it off.”

           His brow quirked in confusion, and sliding her hand down her body, she opened her legs a little wider to brush her fingers along herself. “Made sure it would be easy for you. Didn’t want you to feel intimidated by all the straps and buckles.”

           The snort he let out made her laugh, and she smiled as he stole the sound from her lips with a kiss. Rubbing his hips against hers, he lifted them off the table slightly until she was arched against him. Groaning when she felt how hard he was, she dug her nails into his arms, and said, “If I knew all it took to get you like this was wearing a pretty scrape of lace, I would buy sexier panties.”

           “I happen to like the panties you already own.” He teased before reaching between her legs for the bundle of nerves there. Rubbing in a tortuously slow circle, he grinned down at her as she craned her head back so her hair spilled across the desk. Grabbing onto the edge above she tried to grind against his palm, seeking further friction.

           Dropping his lips to her neck, he let his finger slide down to penetrate her. Groaning loud enough that she actually slapped her other hand over her mouth, Mare arched until her chest was smashed against his. He let out his own pleased sound at how wet he found her, and let her grind against his palm.

           “Can you last ten minutes?” He whispered in her ear before catching her earlobe with his teeth and pulling lightly. Mare twitched in response to the movement of his finger inside of her, whimpering when he pressed a kiss to the point where her pulse pounded in her neck. And although this was heavenly, she’d be damned if he won at this.

           Setting her jaw, she squeezed her legs together, earning a laugh from him as he withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his lips. Sitting up quick enough to make herself dizzy, she grabbed his wrist to stop him from putting those fingers in his mouth. He froze as she closed her lips around his fingers and glanced up at him through her lashes. Releasing them with a pop, she watched his pupils dilate until they swallowed almost his entire iris.

           Smirking when a blush exploded across his cheeks and neck, she licked her lips and said, “You won’t even last that long.”

           Without speaking, he put a hand to her shoulder and slowly guided her back down to the desk as he stood over her. He pinned her hips down with his other hand as he tilted his head to the side ever so slightly and said, “I will take that as a challenge.”

           Mare’s heart fluttered in her chest at the tone of his voice, and how deep it had dropped. Keeping her breathing as level as possible, she closed her eyes as he traced a hand along her side and cupped her breast before leaving open mouthed kissed along the column of her throat.

“Cal,” she breathed his name in a gentle exhale as she threaded her fingers into his hair at the same time that he slipped his hand to her entrance again and pressed his palm against her.

           “Say my name like that again.” He whispered in her ear. “And I will do anything you want.”

           “Anything?” Her voice hitched as she ground against his palm, her eyes fluttering as she sought out the friction he denied her as he teasingly pulled away.

           His lips pulled up into a hint of a smile as he withdrew enough that she chased him with her lips. Their breath mixed as he rested his forehead against hers, and through her lightly fuzzy and crossed vision she could see the depths of his irises. Dark gold, and amber like honey. She could drown in them and be happy.

“Anything.” He answered her.

           Lowering herself back to the desk, she pulled him with her while her other hand threaded between them to grab his hip and pull him closer. Without breaking eye contact, he let her guide him to her entrance. With a sigh, she tipped her head back and locked her ankles behind his hips as he pulled her completely to the edge of the desk.

           “Cal.” She whispered as she grabbed the top of the desk again and squeezed her eyes shut.

           “That’s my girl.” He replied before putting a hand on her hip to keep her pinned to the desk and pulled out before pushing in deeper. Mare bucked against him, gasping as she clenched her thighs together around his hips, pulling him closer. Bracing his other hand next to her head, he dropped his chin as he moved in and out.            She only regretted doing this here for half a second, since she had to contain whatever sounds she made to minimal volumes. The last thing they needed was Volo Samos hearing something or coming to investigate what he was hearing. Although that might have been part of the thrill. If they were at her apartment, she could be as loud as she wanted, even with the window open. The traffic outside was loud enough to mask anything that happened in her shoebox apartment.

           “Harder.” She panted as she dragged her nails down the side of his nice shirt. She wanted to tear it off of him, to get to his skin underneath. He caught her hand before she could do just that, and pinning that hand above her head he obliged her. She half yelped, half gasped as she slid along the desk until her head almost dangled off the edge.

           Like a light switch flickering on and off, the light beyond her closed eyelids alternated with each meeting of their hips. She could feel the change in pace as he sensed her reaching her climax, and her lips curled into a pleased smile even as she arched slightly, hoping to escape him to last longer. He laughed softly at her attempt and pulled her toward him until she was dangling off the desk and had to grab on or risk falling to the floor. He caught her, but she still gasped as the change in angle pushed her completely over the edge so she shattered like glass. Every muscle in her legs contracted and her chest hitched on the rapid inhale she took. Curling around him as much as she could in her position, she stifled any other sound that wanted to come out.

           The best part? She knew she had lasted longer than ten minutes. The worst part? She wanted him again. And there was no way that was going to happen because as she sat there panting after he put her back on the desk and bent over to kiss her lightly, she heard the subtle ringing from a cell phone.

           “You’re getting a call.” She panted in his ear as she ran her fingers through his hair. It was damp now, and his chest pushed into hers with every inhale he took around his rapid heartbeat.

           “It can wait.” He murmured in reply before pressing a kiss against her jaw again.

           “I thought thirty and a half million dollars meant a lot right now.” She laughed as she traced a finger down the column of his spine from his neck to the middle of his back. He turned the full force of his gaze on her and she almost melted into a puddle in the heat of it.

           “You’re worth more than that. More than any deal, any job.” He kissed the tip of her nose. It kept her from turning away to hide the blush that exploded across her cheeks. He traced a thumb along it, and smiling at her he continued, “Who’s blushing now?”

           With an amused roll of her eyes, she traced a finger along his jaw in response to his light touches. This close to him, she realized he was beautiful, in the same way a marble statue in a museum was. She used to think he belonged in places like that, surrounded by priceless and irreplaceable objects that everyone paid to see.

           “I love you.” She tilted her head to the side, testing the phrase again. It was only the third or fourth time she had used it seriously with him. The weight of it settled over him, and he brought her fingers to his lips to press a kiss to them.

           “I love you.” He dropped the hand and pulled her into a sitting position so she could drop her legs from around his waist. Still connected with him, she trailed her fingers along his arms and drank her fill of him with her eyes. A part of her knew that someday she would lose him. Nothing in her life was ever truly hers and he luck had always been rotten, it was why she never bought a lottery ticket. And of course, his father did not like her. He wanted her gone because he saw her as an obstacle, or a hurdle his son would trip over. It took everything to not dig her fingers into Cal’s arm when they were around his father. Maybe if she did so, she could tattoo herself onto him and never lose him.

           “What are you thinking so deeply about?” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and pressed another kiss to the tip of her nose.

           “Nothing important.” She lied effortlessly, the smile she conjured for him almost real. If he saw through it he didn’t comment. The phone rang again from its sad position on the floor where it had ended up, and this time they both looked at it. The screen was lit up and he grimaced at the number showing on it.

           “I think you have to take that one.” Mare whispered before pressing a kiss to his cheek and sliding away from him to hop off the desk. He managed to catch her, and bring her to his chest before she could escape. Closing her eyes, she let herself melt against him for a second, inhaling the smell of his cologne and the smell of her that was now on him.

           When he pulled away to grab the phone off the floor and his pants from their pile near it, she sank back into the chair and watched his back as he finally answered the call. Whatever he was saying was like a buzz against her ears. She could only see him right then: the man he was, and the one he could become. She hated what he was in a small part of herself. But he wasn’t… he wasn’t like the other people he had spent most of his life around. And neither was his brother. Maybe that’s what that life did to people like them. Pushed them so hard that they turned out the opposite of their parents.

           He glanced at her with a smile as he managed to step into his pants with one hand and pull them up. She conjured up another smile for him and stood to fix his hair. He leaned down far enough that she could do that while he went about stringing his belt back into his pants. She trailed her fingers along his chest and down to the buckle and wrestled his fingers from it to clasp it shut herself.

           By the time she had finished he was done with the call, and was sitting in silence watching her work. She glanced up at him through her lashes, but he cupped the back of her head so she tipped her head back completely to him. His thumb rubbed a soothing rhythm along the back of her skull as he whispered, “I have to go. They found a solution.”

           She nodded. “So I guess you don’t have to bring out the big guns and put me in front of them.” Her smile was easy even as she prepared to pull away from him again. He held her steady, staring into her eyes for a long moment.

Just after the silence had stretched too far, he whispered, “Thank you.”

           “For what?” She managed to disentangle herself from him, and turned to gather her clothes. If he was leaving she needed to disappear too. They couldn’t leave together though, or people might notice. And she did not need it getting back to his father that she had broken any of those stupid rules. Then she might as well consider this the last time she ever saw him. What a last time it would be though. It would live with her for the remainder of what she had heard his father call a measly insignificant little life.

           “Everything. You… you make me impossibly happy Mare.” He threaded an arm around her waist before pulling her back against his chest and laying a kiss on top of her head. She finally melted completely into his arms. Wrapping his forearms with hers to trap him for a moment longer she closed her eyes. Suddenly, she didn’t care about the rules she had agreed to. Rules were meant to be broken, and she had always excelled at doing just that. With him, she would break every rule and scatter the ashes of them to the wind.

[aminiatureworld]

Melusine

Characters: Albedo, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,221

Warnings: Brief depiction of pseudo-drowning

Premise: In which the reader’s somewhat inexplicable fear of water prompts questioning

Author’s Note: This prompt reminded me of the book (and series) The Tail of Emily Windsnap, which, if you haven’t read at least the first book, you totally should read as it’s just really a wonderful read. The descriptions of the ocean are especially atmospheric. Anyways, as for the prompt, I had a lot of fun. I tried to write a mermaid story in middle school and while it didn’t go that well I have a lot of nostalgia for the mermaid genre. Though this was more about the discovery than actually being a mermaid.

Also the title is a pseudo-historical reference.

Albedo

The first time it had happened Albedo had brushed off the whole incident as completely explainable. After all, it wasn’t as if you hadn’t explained what had happened.

You two had been sitting on one of the craggy hills of the Whispering Woods, you sprawled on the grass, Albedo attempting to paint a landscape of Mondstadt, one of the more ambitious paintings in his current portfolio. Especially since he had traded his more opaque oils for the gentler tones of watercolors. At one point he must have made some sort of noise of frustration, for you lifted yourself out of the shade and made your way over to the canvas.

“That looks absolutely lovely Albedo!” Your smile had always had a calming affect on the alchemist, and this time was no different. Albedo could feel the tension slowly leeching away from his shoulders.

“Do you think so? I’m afraid that I still can’t handle all the odd shadows the buildings cast.”

“The buildings look perfect to me! Though if you feel that way, maybe you could lighten the side facing the sun a little more instead of darkening the area over here? So the shade doesn’t become too muddy.”

“You have a wonderful eye, you know,” Albedo replied, smiling at the way your mind had immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had drawn as well. Reaching for the bowl of water next to him Albedo went to water his brush a little more before trying again.

Unfortunately that’s when things appeared to have taken a turn for the wrong. Instead of reaching over the bowl Albedo’s elbow collided with the glass. Though the grass was soft and close enough to prevent any damage, that didn’t stop all the muddied water from spilling out over the brim and right over you. You let out a sort of squeak, and for a moment Albedo though it was just the initial shock, but then the expression on your face came into view and Albedo could immediately sense you were seconds away from panic.

“Is something wrong?”

“I, I don’t like water very much,” you let out a strained laugh. “I just, I don’t know. I really, really don’t like water.”

“I’m so sorry,” Albedo immediately replied.

Taking off his coat he did his best to dry you off, wiping off your arms and attempting a valiant effort with your now sopping clothes. Though you assured him that it would be alright the alchemist could sense those were only platitudes, and it wasn’t until you seemed significantly calmer that Albedo turned to pick up the bowl and refill it in Cider Lake. And though a part of his mind wished to delve deeper into what had happened he pulled himself back, figuring it wouldn’t help you if he was suddenly enquiring over something you were afraid of.

Now perhaps that should have been the long and the short of it, but the revelation had begun to make Albedo see water everywhere and, more importantly, see how much it appeared to affect you every time you appeared to come in close contact with it.

Thankfully you didn’t seem to have trouble with water in glasses, at least as long as someone was actively drinking it. If not however you would glance at the glass every so often, as if it were your mortal enemy, waiting to catch you off guard to it might tip its contents all over your clothes. Other things, like obsessively drying your wands after washing them and draping layers of towels over your shoulders when you washed your hair, also became apparent. Suddenly Albedo couldn’t stop noticing your discomfort, and the more he noticed the more he wished he could do something about it.

“Exposure therapy?”

“Yes.”

You were sitting on Albedo’s desk, leaning slightly over your partner, a slightly bemused look on your face. It had been about three weeks since the incident, and finally Albedo thought he might have found some sort of solution to your problem. Now he eagerly pressed forward, figuring you’d understand once he’d explained everything fully.

“I know that it might seem counterproductive to subject you to what gets a frightened reaction out of you, but if you subject a person to something they’re afraid of in very small doses over a long period of time, usually they begin to feel a little less afraid of the thing in question. It’s sort of like how you can sometimes make allergies less serious by slowly exposing the patient to more and more of the allergen.”

“I understand where your line of thought is coming from Albedo, but I’m really not sure if this is the best idea for me.”

“I know that it might seem daunting at first. I would not bring up the topic if you didn’t seem so miserable sometimes. I worry that you might become so unhappy by your fear that it will become debilitating eventually. That is why I decided to bring up the option.”

“I really appreciate you going out of your way to think about me Albedo. I really do. I think what you’re trying to do is very kind and noble of you. But in all honesty I don’t think that’s going to work. You see, the way my fear works, I just don’t think that exposure is going to make it go away.”

“Are you sure?” Albedo pressed on, still hoping that you might see the benefit in what he was suggesting. “It won’t start with something drastic I promise. And at the end of the day, I think that it will help a lot.”

“I understand that, I really do, but like I said my fear doesn’t work that way.” You paused, as if sensing the sinking of your partner’s heart, before smiling slightly. “If it makes you feel any better I promise to give it some more thought. Alright?”

“Thank you,” Albedo replied, though in his mind he knew that you thinking about it probably wouldn’t change anything.

Thus the cycle continued, with Albedo growing more and more uneasy. He didn’t bring it up with you again, sensing it would be walking over some invisible line, but still his mind whirled in trying to understand what you meant. If your fear wasn’t simply irrational, then surely something must have happened once. Though the alchemist didn’t pry, surely if you wanted him to know you would tell him in your own time, he had to admit that sometimes his brain went off on various daydreams, as if trying to decide for itself what might have happened.

As it turned out, Albedo didn’t have to speculate for long. Nor did the truth come out the way that he had expected.

You two were on the very small dock at Cider Lake, checking the rafts were tied down properly before the beginning of the stormy season that wreaked havoc through Mondstadt once every year. Though normally you probably would have never done such a thing the Guild was spread thin, preparing for storms, though not nearly as fierce as Dvalin’s winds, that would blow shingles off roofs and destabilize the occasional out of place rock on the wall. As of such the task of shielding the boats used to carry supplies from the City to the larger Mondstadt region had fallen to you. Albedo had tagged along, knowing how uncomfortable the experience might make you feel, and unwilling to leave you alone in a state of anxiety.

“These remaining boats are the ones we need to tie down. They’re too big to be stored in the sheds inside the City.”

“I see,” Albedo replied, already moving to nail the tarp down on one of them as you secured the roping. Already the air seemed alive with the fresh smell of impending rain.

“It’s too bad really, we can’t guarantee these boats’ safety the way we can the others. Thankfully these ones are mostly insured by the Knights. Though really maybe we should build a larger shed,” you mused to yourself, keeping up the tell-tale stream of conversation that Albedo knew you used to distract yourself.

“Perhaps you can make a query via the Guild?”

“Perhaps,” you mused. “Or I might be able to ask Amber.”

Albedo replied that would be a good idea, turning to put another temporary nail onto the top of the longboat. All seemed alright for a moment, then there was a shriek and a terrific splashing sound. Whirling around Albedo had just enough time to find your head in the water before you seemed to seize up and your head dipped below the still crystal-clear waves.

Immediately Albedo stripped himself of his coat and dove in. Though no amazing swimmer himself the alchemist was hardly the worst at staying afloat, and even if he only knew a select few amount of swim strokes that paled in comparison to the idea of you drowning. Making his way over to you he fought the panic rising up inside of him, the part of his brain that said it would be much more difficult to rescue someone terrified of water.

However almost as soon as Albedo approached you he noticed that something was distinctly off. Firstly you didn’t seem like you were drowning, in fact you appeared quite graceful in the water, swishing softly back and forth. Secondly the reason for said grace quickly became apparent to Albedo. For in the spot where your legs should have been, indeed in the spot where your legs had been mere moment ago was something long and slightly shimmery and distinctly fish-like.

Letting his mouth fall open Albedo immediately hoisted himself up above the water, choking on the gasp of breath he had found himself taking. What was that, what in all of Teyvat was that? You were half fish. How were you half fish? Did such a thing even exist, for Albedo had certainly never heard of it! Though the alchemist later admitted that in the moment such fantasy creatures as merfolk had completely fallen out of his head, there was something distinctly different than reading about something in a book and seeing it in real life.

Dragging himself onto the shores of Cider Lake, Albedo waited for you to emerge, still breathing heavily from what had just passed. His brain seemed to shut off them, for he found himself with no questions to ask. You were a mermaid, you were simply a mermaid. There was nothing more to do or say about it.

Eventually you joined him on the beach. Albedo watched in an odd sort of fascination as your legs emerged from the scaley fin which your lower body was now made up of. For a moment individual spots of iridescent seemed to remain, but soon your limbs were back to normal, ignoring the fact that you were soaking wet.

“So now you know why I said exposure therapy wouldn’t work out,” you said, letting a grim sort of laugh escape your lips.

“You… you are a… a…”

“A merfolk, yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. “Not sure why I get stuck with the weird power that is more annoying than good but, you know, oops?”

Albedo could sense your vulnerability, but try as he might he couldn’t get the words to come out of his throat. For a moment he sat there, gasping like a fish, but finally the expression of muted misery on your face wormed its way into his brain and finally Albedo felt as if he had regained some ability to talk.

“I think it’s fascinating.”

“Of course you do.”

“No, really. And not just because this is something I’ve never experienced or seen before. Though it was really surprising, it was also wonderful. As an alchemist you study all the wonders and anomalies of nature, and in doing so you see all these differences aren’t just something to be written down, but they also beautiful. And so I think you’re really beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you replied, though you still seemed uncomfortable. “I just, yeah…”

Reaching over to find your hand in his Albedo squeezed your palm softly. For a moment you did nothing, then, slowly, you leaned your head on Albedo’s shoulder. Letting you stay there Albedo found himself wishing that he could convey all the emotions he felt in that moment to you.

“I know that it can be difficult to talk about things that you’ve kept secret, especially when you feel like they make you stand out in a bad way. But I promise, there is nothing wrong with that. And I hope if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way that I can apologize.”

“Thanks Albedo,” you murmured. “You don’t have to say sorry, but thanks anyways.”

“Always.”

“I love you, you know?”

“I love you too.”

Albedo planted a soft kiss on your forehead. As the boats sat, woefully forgotten, the two of you basked in each other’s presence. For Albedo a mystery had been solved, and explanation given that, while not necessarily scientific, was certainly satisfactory. Yet at that moment he couldn’t care less about it. All he could think about was how lonely it must have been, and how, if he could help it, you would never feel isolated in your discomfort or in your secret ever again.

[jiminrings]

hellooo can i request a drabble of uni!au art major tae and biochem major yn? also part one of the would you series is AMAZINGGG seriously i cant wait to read more!! <3

rich kid kim

pairing: taehyung x y/n

wordcount: 5k

glimpse: tae’s cold and probably needs a friend more than he needs a model, y/n feels this nEED to take care of him, a term of enderment then a dash of emotional constipation and a sprinkle of jealousy :D

notes: thank you for the request babes!! writing this made my heart melt and aND!!! thank you omg i’m glad you like would you :((

if you squint or if you’ve read insufferable, this is most probably taehyung and his y/n!!!

taehyung is personally more than willing to pay himself out of this project

oKAY LISTEN

he’s not the proudest knowing that he comes from a rich family and he’s the only kid and he’s never really struggled for much

everything was just given to him without any hesitations whatsoever

and yeah he admits that he can nEVER admit that his pampered and luxurious lifestyle since birth has shaped him to be this way and it’s hard to unlearn these types of things

things were too easy for him and thAt’s what made it hard

tae is the farthest thing from an outcast..,.,.,.,

.,.,. but that’s him in his usual rich boi bubble of elites wherever he goes because he’s surrounded by people like him

hoseok and jimin have got to be his closest friends but of course they pursued business degrees and everyone must’ve probably saw that coming

nobody, however, expected the kim taehyung to pursue a degree based rootly on passion and even major in it

yeah that’s right what are yOU looking at???

he’s an art student and yeah he’s taking this seriously ://

do yOU have a problem with that?? do you?? no what did you say?? step the fuck up ky-

spoiler alert: people do have a problem with that

taehyung could tell that his parents did a complete 180 when they learned through jimin’s noisy-ass mouth (not even through their own son) that he’s gonna be getting an art degree

his dad’s the one who’s most especially disappointed at him because well he’s the only child and uhhhh.,.,.,, so who’s gonna inherit the company now.,.,,,

tae normally feels selfish and this time, he felt like he was being rational rather than being selfish!! this is what he passionately wants!! pls god can i be selfish oNE more time

eventually his parents had no choice because as their son explained,, having an art degree won’t keep him away from the family business at all and he could even expand it!! he doesn’t need a degree!!! 

lmao he’s been putting the money he gets on the stock market ever since he was ten years old

and they had to accept it eventually because this is what HE wants and if this is the only thing that he wants... then might as well help him through it, right??

now this is another dilemma

taehyung’s applied at a regular university in which everyone’s blended together and no one really cares about who’s who

it’s not exclusive to people like him.

he submitted his requirements and his portfolios by himself!!

and he got accepted!!

he’s nOT SURE if it’s purely because of his skills and himself and not his parents’ money nor influence

whatever it is, he doesn’t want to know because if it ends up being the answer he doesn’t want?? lol he’d crawl into a hole and mope for a week and would be doomed to wear three-piece suits for the rest of his life 

so anyways

yeah..,, this is one of the handful of times that taehyung is completely willing to pay himself out 

this project was supposed to be easy enough as what the professor said but uH he’d like to passive-aggressively decline pls and thank you

their final project was to make a portrait

right?? easy!!

a portrait of sOMEONE IN CAMPUS,,, regardless if you know them or not

(( well of course you’d get to know them by the end because yea they’re required to show proof that they indeed met and the model did agree to be painted ))

and by the end of the project, it’s either they keep it to themselves or give it to the model!!

that should be easy, right??

...

....

...... pls say right

oh my god tae should probably drop out now so he doesn’t get to do this

rich people don’t necessarily have to be educated, right???? maybe he’ll just settle into being a himbo 

he learned about the meaning of the word through urban dictionary that he tHEN only learned about like six months ago and now he gets so many things

taehyung’s not intimidated by the workload of it all -- in fact, he’s even excited about it because it helps him relax!!

what he’s intimidated about is the fact that he’s kim taehyung and there are only two possible options

either his model would be someone who knows him and would be taking every possible step to ensure that they climb the social ladder through him and they’re not even gonna be dISCREET about it

OR

his model wouldn’t completely care about who he is and in the process belittles him upfront and tbh his hart wouldn’t be able to take that and he’s probably wipe his tears away with dollar bills

there is almost no in-between, that one he’s sure of

so why are you like this?

why are you neither of the two and why are you sO kind and go against his expectations????

do you have an ulterior motive or something????

you who’s a biochem major and is actually another building away from his own

you who’s made the initiative that you become hIS model

you who actually oFFERED and almost begged to be a part of a project that would only be for tae’s benefit

... aha

that’s about -5 points from being a cool laid-back nonchalant gal

+10 for looking like someone who’s had a massively obsessive crush on him since day one and looking like you’d lay his life for him

no but lmao actually you just learned about taehyung in a magazine

you were bored at the dentist’s and scrolled through every possible outlet in your phone and it didn’t satiate you anymore!!! so how about reading a good ol’ magazine :D

then came taehyung

it was a whole issue dedicated to him and you were probably too dedicated into reading it that this time it was you telling the dentist to wait lol

that’s as far as you knew about him

and then you learned just some weeks ago that taehyung happens to study where you also study at and that was.,., inch resting

you never really saw him before around campus because it was too big and well maybe if you put in the effort, you’d actually find him

maybe you had a tiny lil admiration for kim taehyung just from one whole issue alone you read at the dentist’s or whatever

you’ve only known about this final project situation through changbin!!!

changbin, your neighbor at the apartment next to you, who’d crash over whenever his wifi feels the tiniest bit slow

yes you did spend a little more money to upgrade your internet situation (most times it’s the router who makes all the difference) because you were so tIRED of having things slow in the middle of researching for your projects in biochem)

no you will nOT have that <3

and of course changbin’s not having your that shitty wifi either so he pushed you to get that in the first place so he can use it too lmao

he’s told you just a couple of days ago about his final project and that maybe, just maybe, he’d make it into a move for this girl that he likes

nothing’s more romantic than pleading for someone to paint ur face right

and your grade and the decision to whether you’re gonna pass or flunk and graduate or retake are relying on you mostly

and in changbin’s case it’s also hIS heart on the line so yeah no pressure at all luv

“i kinda feel bad for rich kid kim, y’know?”

“what about taehyung???”

“eW do you have a crush on him??”

“addressing someone by their name equals to a crush??????”

your banters never stop because you’re as quick-witted as him and he both loves and hates it

he loves that omg someone can keep up with him and that way he gets challenged to always have the last say!!

he hates that oh god why is he friends with someone who reminds him of himself so much how is hE gonna deal with that??

sometimes he’ll purposely argue with you to fEEL something lmao

but there’s just something here that tells him you’re a little more interested now in this flow of conversation ever since rich kid kim was mentioned

“hm, nothing. i’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a model yet.”

he dodges you in the kitchen to look for peanut butter in your cupboard and oddly... you’re not berating him for decreasing your groceries....?

what does changbin mean by that? whAt model?? model as in taehyung doesn’t have the newest model of whatever car he wants? or maybe he has a model girlfriend and-

hold on wait wHAT

taehyung has a-

“m-model?”

he looks at you weirdly but you don’t even bat an eye when he gets ahold of your marshmallow spread so that he could make another one of his s’mores sandwiches

“uhhhh model as in he doesn’t have someone to paint for our project??”

is that what you wanted to hear or,.,

you and changbin share one (1) brain cell and it SHOWS

the two of you have to open your mouths, then close, then ponder, and then do that aGAIN until the both of you could finally grasp if you were in the same page

“oh cool!! i’ll be his model then!”

“yeah but did he ask”

“it’s gonna be easy!! i’ll just tag along with you to your building”

“yeah but did he aSK”

“we’re probably gonna hit it off instantly and then you’ll have to leech off from someone else for their wifi and food and every other necessity that you already have-”

“yeah but dID HE ASK????”

long-story short: no. taehyung most certainly did not ask you to be his model.

but here you are

saying that you came a long way is a bit of a stretch because taehyung mostly turns his head the other way around when you call out to him in public

progress is still progress :D

you’re eating lunch with him at the same table and this time you’re sat beside him!! when normally he’d just walk home to his apartment (lol that’s not allowed but you won’t be surprised to know that he has a free pass) and eat!!!

before that, taehyung would gLARE at you until you stop asking to sit with him in his table

yea he gets a bit lonely at time because jimin and hobi aren’t with him and hE’S the outcast but he won’t do anything about it,, just scroll through his phone while he eats and tune everyone out

you figured that maybe it’s changbin always linked with you in lunch because your schedules just matched up thAt perfectly like it does with tae’s

hee-hee so you might have elbowed him until he begrudgingly agreed to be tolerable, keep atleast four feet of distance from you, and not call tae rich kid kim

spoiler alert: taehyung doesn’t really care about whatever you do because doing those changes with changbin did nOT work at all

however

H O W E V E R

taehyung doesn’t know at all how you’ve wormed your way into his heart!!

what seem to be cold to you is his warmest he’s ever been in such a new environment and outside of his usual comfort bubbles!!!

it’s like you occasionally stealing the food from his plate when you have the same thing is the equivalent of h*lding h*nds with him

you putting your leg over his before he pushes it after five seconds mUST be the equivalent to marriage

wait he’s lying

taehyung does know how you’ve wormed your way to his heart

“hi! i’m y/n! :D”

ok u are a little bit sweaty and out of breath from doing all that fast-paced walking for the past ten minutes

your new shoes that you still need to break into further aren’t helping your situation in the slightest bit

honestly? this is all changbin’s fault <3

he unknowingly gave you the sign that you were looking for

if he says yeah five times with five minutes?? okay yeah you’re definitely looking for kim taehyung and offering yourself to become his model

you don’t wanna sound weird but you feel sorry for him and you wanna help him :((

he’s not helping you tho because he has long legs underneath those trousers and it looked like he wouldn’t budge at all not unless you jogged and stopped right in front of him

“hi! i’m y/n!! :D”

“...”

“.....”

tae’s a bit... perplexed

because who’s THIS entity and why are you standing in front of him

...

....

“bye y/n.”

:]

he wants to exit from this situation because oh my god??

why r u like this

he didn’t ASK for your name!!

and he doesn’t even know you and giving him your name honestly won’t do anything and he doesn’t get what’s your motive and-

“oh c’mon!! you didn’t even shake my hand :((”

he feels even more lost as he tries to wrap his head around that uh.....

you uh.... you wanted a handshake??

.....

tae doesn’t even hide his annoyance because it’s clear as day!!!

he’s blatantly tilting his head at you rudely with a blank stare omg take the hint pLEASE

realizing it now you mAY have came on too strong to taehyung that looks confused as ever

“hi, i’m y/n.”

changbin’s by one of the lockers taking pics of you beaming at taehyung and him scowling down to show you later how dumb you look and how you shouldn’t do this at all

okay LISTEN

his personality trait is to immediately assume the worst out of every scenario possible and that way when something slightly less worse happens? that’s a win babie ;D

he became ur friend in the first place because you heard him yelling since he’s at the door right next to yours and you could hEAR him throwing things around as he cusses his laptop

yeah he cusses his laptop what about it??

if you close your eyes hard enough, you could hear him throw his router against the wall (you later learned that he was so close to finishing his digitalization but then his laptop decided to die) before punching the air

(( the friendship started when you knocked vERY gently and offered him to borrow your laptop even if you aren’t done with all your homework ))

((( changbin thought at first that u were such an organized and too-friendly social butterfly who’s a kiss-ass to everyone but now he thinks ur the coolest person ever and he treasures you more than life itself )))

although, taehyung’s a lot more vicious and closed-off and critical than changbin

he narrows his gaze at you as you introduce yourself for the second time before merely clicking his tongue

“ok cool”

is that uhm

is that IT good sir

“you’re not,” you’re dancing around your words and being careful to not let a pout grace your lips at the sheer lack of enthusiasm, “gonna introduce yourself to me??”

you got a reaction alright

taehyung sCOFFS and that’s the loudest he’s ever been with you in the span of two minutes

“you followed me for ten minutes just to tell me your name. kinda seems like you already know mine if you do that, no?”

this is why you took up biochem instead of law

how do the lawyers not break down???

why does phoenix wright make it seem SO easy?? especially when he’s spoken to in a confrontal tone???

oh god taehyung broke you already

not to be rude but uh what do you wANT

can you get it over already??

“o-oh! uhm i was wondering if i could uHm,” you sound ridiculous now that you think about it and this is perhaps one of the only times you feel embarrassed, “volunteer to be your model for your project?”

hmm

was that a wrong answer,,,

sHOULD YOU HAVE SAID THAT??

“are you in my class?”

taehyung asks and he’s finally said a sentence to you!!! omg

you’re quite shocked so he had to click his tongue to get you to answer 

“no, actually!! i’m a biochem major and-...”

that’s all it takes before he hums and nods his head

and for some reason taehyung looks at you like you’re pREY

“are you a stalker?”

okay wait holy fuck wHAT

you know what

you took a sip from changbin’s coffee half an hour ago but why are you only choking on it nOW

you’re positively sputtering and now ur pressured bc tae thinks you’re a stalker!!! a damn stalker!!

“looked at you long enough. i don’t need a sketch artist and i could just-”

no no no pls no

this meeting is going downhill very quickly 

“oh my god taehyung i’m nOT a stalker okay!!!”

that shuts him up because your voice is so firm and okAY then how do u explain this stalker smh ://

throughout the whole time you’re talking about changbin being an art major and also your neighbor and everything in between, tae has such a neutral expression that you feel so intimidated

“-and that’s what!! i’m not taking advantage of you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking i guess? i swear!!”

he listened and well if he’s being honest,,, okay yea you did make sense and he does know changbin

“okay then. i’ll think about it.”

“are you gonna give me your number???”

it’s either you’re so forward or he’s just not used to being caught off-guard

WHICH FUCKING ONE

“what for?”

it’s been so long ever since someone asked taehyung for his number

usually in galas and any other socialite gatherings you could think of, everyone’s number would just be in your phone automatically and you won’t even rEMEMBER how it got there in the first place

better yet, it’s been so long since he went back to his usual routine lifestyle of being himself 

his last gala was two weeks ago and tae had to keep looking at his phone to study pdfs and whatever clear pictures he can get of his reviewers back at home because he had a test tomorrow morning

“so you could text me where we’re gonna meet so you could paint me, silly!!”

:D

okay wOAH there

“i didn’t even say that you’d be my model????”

“lol but you were thinking it huh”

that’s it

taehyung has nO choice but to paint you if he wants to finish this project and graduate and have something of a thicker paper to flaunt

it came as a shock to him that hE took your offer and he could only imagine its effect on you

not to brag but tae didn’t even have to sweat for a little because it’s yOU who came to him with this offer!! not him!!

tae lives in the classiest apartment here in uni and everyone probably knows that

much to his insistence that he doesn’t want anyone from uni going outside his apartment, he had to take an L and invite you over

he wouldn’t risk doing his work in any place else because he doesn’t want anyone thinking and getting the wrong idea!!

speaking of, he’s regretting it now because you seem to be too happy being in his space

you’re pointing around and being awed at every possible thing!!! 

what??? is this ur first time seeing a rattan hanging chair :// or a massive couch?? or a canvas painting of something so beautiful?? all of that in what’s supposed to be a student’s one apartment??? christ y/n get yourself together

“so what do you want me to do?? where do i sit oR do i stand instead?? i’m gonna need you to know that-...”

“nothing.” taehyung deadpans before he gets his camera so he could get digital shots as well if ever he needs an extra touch when it comes to his final product

the gears in your head are going bRRR and you’re gonna have to ask him to elaborate but taehyung already sets the pace

“nothing. just be your rEALLY annoying self and pretend i’m not here.”

normally you don’t take his words to heart but this one just hits a little close to home bc it’s early in the morning and taehyung already finds you intolerable

“by pretend, do you mean-...”

“up to you. are you more annoying around me or no?”

how did he read your MIND

tae got the thoughts in your head word per word and you’re so amazed at that because fUcK you originally thought that he’s good at bluffing his way up

click!

it’s you smiling at him

no you’re beaming at him

and you’re in front of his morning-lit curtains and you’re against the light

the portrait itself is already visually appealing and satisfying and man the shadows!!! the value!!!! they’re so raw and dreamy and this is exactly his style!!!

it was just a one-take wonder as soon as he took a picture of you!!! and he may have you to hold that position if he needs the push!! he just needs to translate it to canvas with his own language and emotions and then he’s dONE!!

you’re a pain in the ass

you laugh and you move too much

taehyung had you to to revisit that pose and hold it and you wouldn’t stop giggling bc you were too proud that you did THAT!

you also ask too many things that even hE doesn’t have the answers to

how is he supposed to know if red string lovers exist when you went into a spiel just because you saw a red tube of paint???? and why is he saying his opinions on such trivial things when he has his final project to take care of???

and how is he supposed to know why YOU’RE here hanging out with him instead of finishing your own final project

jk maybe it’s the L word but you’re gonna subdue that as much as possible since taehyung looks like he’d leave you by yourself with any chance that he gets

and you even call him terms of endearment!!! nicknames!! pet names!! names that you’d call someone who’s familiar to you and you probably l*ve!!!

angel

that’s what you call him :))

“why do you call me that?”

“because you look like one”

“and how would yOU know what angels look like??”

“because if they were to exist then you’d probably look like one!!”

“but-”

“ok that’s one minute no more questions taehyung <3″

tae just provides you with all the conviction you need to take care of him without even knowing

not in a maternal type of instinct type of way, but rather in a sPECIAL someone type of way

you find yourself caring for him mOre than you ever could for any regular friend you have!!

you just throw a whole loaf of bread to changbin and call it a day

but for tae??? you go above and beyond!!

“did it ever hit you that rich kid kim never really introduced himself to you?”

oh right....

changbin points out one day and you could see where he was getting at

for some reason he always knew what was in your mind at any given time and sometimes it’s to your disadvantage

you seem to be growing on taehyung though!!

he tolerates you better now!!

sometimes he’ll find you loveable even

he likes having someone around and you’re the perfect contender

if he decides to not talk too much, then you fill up the white noise!!

if he wants you to shut up?? then yOU shut up but of course not without babbling for a little

he’s opened up but with some reservations

some reservations that you don’t mind but it’s normal that you feel sometimes left out, y’know??

because it’s been a good month since you and taehyung properly interacted but he still resents you as much if you think about it

“hey angel!!”

“what is it-...”

taehyung looks up from his meal that he’s been poking at his fork because this has to be the fourth time you call out to him

so he turns to look at you and-

oh

uhm

there seems to be a misunderstanding

you weren’t calling HIM

you were calling out to some other guy that iSN’T him

that’s seungmin!!! omg you haven’t seen him in so long and he just happened to pass by your lunch table!!!

apparently he has something to talk to you about which is why you’re standing up and leaving tae all alone on the table

seungmin’s smile is adorable as always and he gets you in a pretty good mood!!

oh god

dear gOD

what is taehyung feeling in his chEST???

tae’s grip on his fork is starting to get pRETTY tight

and if he’s aware enough, his right eye’s twitching and he’s practically scoffing under his breath

why tf would you call him that

WHO is angel and why is it nOT him anymore????

what he’s feeling is just unexplainable and it tastes something like betrayal

“who’s he?”

he quizzes you as soon as you get back to your table and you don’t waver one bit because you know he’s been asking questions recently

“oh that’s just seungmin!! we were childhood friends then he just transferred here awhile-...”

there’s a bitter taste on his tongue and it shows up in his face and you’re not even paying attention to him!!

“really? thought i was him for a second.”

ok now that got you to stop eating

????

why is he acting weird

taehyung looks even more irked because you look sO oblivious right now

“do you call everyone angel?”

o-oh where is this going

“uhm-”

you’re not even finished and to be honest you’re quite lost and taehyung sCOFFS you to the next century

“‘course you do.”

taehyung angrily finishes his meal and you leave it at that because ok maybe he had a bad day?? and he’s just taking it out on you??

and well tae DOESN’T want you to leave it at that

he wants you to ASK him why he’s mad!!! he’s passive-aggressive and it’s getting unhealthy but he’d rather choke than have him spill whatever he’s feeling

the next few days, taehyung avoids you like his LIFE depended on it

you’re not really bothered by it because he has his days, but this one’s just getting out of control

“are you giving me a time-out or something??”

lmao what did u do now

you nudge him when you see him by changbin’s apartment to borrow an easel even though he’s already got it by his apartment

yeah he’s mad at you and he’s petty but maybe he wants to see you again

tae’s giving you silent treatment and you don’t even question him for it

you don’t bother!!

you’re letting him do whatever he wants as always and he dOESN’T like it anymore!!!

he feels like he’s gonna combust at any given time and you don’t give a shit and he feels like yOU should give a shit because you always do!!

you always hover and worry around him but wHY does he feel like you’re not doing it anymore??

why does he yEARN FOR YOU???

it’s quite an an early night for you

you love biochem but sometimes it kicks your ass and it makes you retch at the mention of all-nighters nowadays!! bc they used to be fun but now doing them because you nEED to?? no thx

you’re already in your pajamas and you’re all washed up!! what could changbin need from you at 9 in the evening??

there’s an urgent knocking on your door and you resist the need to groan because you were about to really knock yourself out!! you need to get back all the rest you’ve wasted over your own final project

is that-

“taehyung?”

the man in question is in his huge yellow hoodie that swallows him up every time and he looks positively spent

his hair’s shaggy and his eyes are glazed and there’s a pink tint to his cheeks :((

he’s holding a baby hydroflask in his hands and you’re pretty sure that’s alcohol in there lol

“don’t call me taehyung!!”

he immediately snaps and you’re lost as aLWAYS

did he really just walk all the way to your complex to snAp at you??

“i’m not taehyung,” he frowns deeply and that’s when you’re a bit more mesmerized, “i’m angel.”

is this what you think it is??

your no.1 deflection move is to laugH and you’re doing that rn

something about this whole situation tickles you funny and you’re not sure what to feel about it

“i like your bottle!! i should get one for myself!!”

he could see right through you though

he ignores your stOOpid statements and goes to hold your hands :((

“no, no. i’m your angel. i-i’m your taehyung, right??”

listen

taehyung is the most confusing being you know and he’s so emotionally constipated that he outperforms changbin but this one,,,

this just feels so different

he’s hugging you

he’s embracing you

he’s burrowing his face to your neck and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t ever imagine what this would feel like :(((

he positively 100% might be in love with you

and you positively 100% might be in love with him too

he’s fishing for your hand by your side to put in between your bodies as he shakes it and that’s because he doesn’t wanna let go of the hug 

:((((

you’re melting and this what heaven must feel like :((((

“h-hi. name’s kim taehyung and i’m yours.”

[leiawritesstories]

Piano for Relaxation

Happy Nessian Appreciation Week! I love these two together and I love writing them. Oh, this will be fun! *grins maniacally*

Prompt 3: Music

Warnings: Absolutely none

Word count: 1405

@nessianweek

~

Despite how much stress she was under, and as a pre-law student her default stress level was “high,” Nesta Archeron never failed to spend a spare bit of time at a piano. Some days, she was lucky enough to steal an hour with the University of Velaris’s prized Bösendorfer grand, which lived on the stage of the concert hall, some days she settled for the baby grand in the recording studio, and some days, she was relegated to one of the crappy and usually out-of-tune uprights in the practice rooms. 

This Thursday evening, she’d managed to get into the performing arts hall before it “closed” for the night. She scoped out the practice rooms and recording studio, mentally scratching the studio off her list of pianos since the “recording in progress” light above the door glowed red. Daring a peek into the concert hall, she smothered a little squeal. The stage door was unlocked, and probably would be for the rest of the night, leaving her free to play the best quality piano on campus. 

She carefully placed her messenger bag by the leg of the piano, retrieved her worn brown leather music portfolio, and set it on the piano’s smooth music rack. Going through her usual warm-up motions, she stretched her fingers and hands, shook out her wrists, and rolled her neck. Then, with a musician’s soft pre-performance exhale, she lowered her hands to the polished ivory keys and began. 

With scales, of course. How else would a musician begin practicing? Fifteen years of piano had ingrained a set of warm-up exercises into Nesta’s muscle memory, and she played methodically through each, from scales to arpeggios to rhythmic exercises, chord progressions and exercises, and her old nemesis, octaves and tenths. 

Now fully warmed up, Nesta opened her portfolio, closed her eyes, and leafed through the scores, opening her eyes after a brief moment. Her gaze landed on the page and swept to the top, seeking the piece’s title. As it happened, she’d passed the first page, so she flipped back a few pages to reach the beginning. 

Rachmaminoff Piano Concerto no. 2 in C Minor, Op 18, II: Adagio sostenuto. 

A favorite.

And an extra challenge to play solo, sans the orchestral cues. 

Nesta debated pulling up a recording of the concerto for background, but decided against it. Using the cues and her knowledge of the concerto, she merely played the first few chords, then slipped gracefully into the floating melody, doing her best to make the music a true sostenuto. 

Her whole focus shifted to her hands on the keys as she played, all sense of her surroundings lost to the lush concerto. Rachmaninoff might have been one of the banes of pianists’ existence, but damn her if she didn’t love playing him. Especially as her very favorite mid-movement run came up. Her fingers flew over the keys in an intricate dance, rolling out the spritely chords and arpeggios, trilling up to the top of the phrase, and slowly descending back into adagio. This movement, one of her comfort pieces, never failed to drive away the pressures of her degree, not even when she was playing bits of orchestral accompaniment with the piano solo. 

So deeply lost in the music was she that she didn’t even register the footsteps that crossed the stage, or the presence of another person by the piano. 

Her consciousness lifted from the piano as she played the final chords, letting them decrescendo into silence before opening her eyes. And then nearly slamming her knee into the underside of the keyboard as she started. 

“God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” gushed the blonde woman standing by the back of the piano. “I just heard Rach II coming from the hall and had to listen, and then find out who was playing it so brilliantly.”

Nesta flushed. “I’m all right, and so is the Bösendorfer, and thank you so much but I’m definitely not brilliant.”

“Yes, yes you are. Or at least that was. I’ve played piano for fourteen years, myself, and never once have I been able to perform Rachmaninoff like that. Aelin Galathynius, by the way,” said Nesta’s audience. 

“Nesta Archeron. Fifteen years, myself. And before you ask, no, I’m not a music major. That’d suck all the joy out of playing.”

Aelin nodded. “Amen to that, and nice to meet you, Nesta. I’m not in music either, but I do play sometimes, usually when I need an escape from the living hell that is cardiology. I’m hoping and planning to be a surgeon. Hooray for expensive schooling!”

“Good Lord, that sounds horrible. But as an aspiring lawyer, I’ll toast to years and years of expensive school and then more years of struggling to pay student loans on a crappy salary.”

“Ooh, a lawyer. Do you have a specialty in mind?”

“Civil, preferably business litigation. I want nothing more than to stop corruption and see that companies are receiving all of their rights, and this is my path to that goal.”

“Impressive. So is Rachmaninoff just a side hobby of yours, then?”

Nesta smirked. “Yes and no. Yes, it’s not my main focus, but no, it’s more than a hobby. It’s how I relieve the intense stress of my life.”

“Me, too,” grinned Aelin. “You know, there are currently two grands on this stage…”

Nesta looked across the stage, where the music department’s other grand, a mahogany Steinway, sat. “That there are. Care to join me? You pick the piece.”

Aelin’s grin turned devilish. “Good thing I warmed up in the recording studio, then.”

Nesta smothered the questions she longed to ask as Aelin carefully folded back the cover of the Steinway, sat down, and shook out her hands. 

And launched into the opening chords of Saint-Saëns’s Danse Macabre. 

With a smirk to match Aelin’s, Nesta took up the phrase. Fresh indeed was the memory of playing this very piece as a duet at age sixteen, with her teacher as the second pianist. Two skilled pianists plus two excellent-quality pianos plus one magnificent piece equaled the notes echoing through the dark, empty concert hall. The Danse wound down, final notes fading into silence, and Aelin and Nesta looked at each other and burst into a two-woman round of applause. Which somehow became a six-hand round of applause, causing both women to turn sharply toward the stage door and notice a broad male frame taking up most of the doorway. Nesta rolled her eyes. 

“You know, most people would either walk away when the piece ended or make their presence known to the pianist,” she deadpanned. 

Cassian Ilnair flicked on a backstage light, granting a view of the grin creeping across his face. “I’m not ‘most people,’ sweetheart.”

“That much is obvious.”

Observing the exchange between the two, Aelin smirked, closed and covered the Steinway, and headed for the door. “I’d better leave you lovebirds alone. Whatever you do next, don’t do it on the Bösendorfer!” Snickering, she left the concert hall, footsteps clicking off towards the dorms.”

“She seems delightful, who was that?” inquired Cassian. 

“Aelin Galathynius, probably my new piano person,” was Nesta’s reply. “Now if you’re done gawking at a real instrument, I need to close up the piano, finish an argument and sleep, preferably in that order.”

“You won’t play for me?”

“Cass, I’m entirely sure you just listened to that whole duet and probably some of the Rach I played before that.”

Cassian widened his eyes in innocence. “But that wasn’t for me, Nes. And Aelin’s right, you are brilliant.” He placed a finger to Nesta’s lips. “No protesting, Lawyer Archeron, you and I both know I tell no lies.”

Nesta snorted. “Right. I am serious about the sleep, though.”

“I know, I know. Far be it from me to deny a chronic insomniac her precious sleep.”

“Uh huh. About as far as your bed is from your minifridge full of caffeine and alcohol.”

“Touché, sweetheart.”

Closing the stage door behind her, Nesta headed for the campus apartment buildings, Cassian at her side. 

“I mean it, Nesta. You’re a brilliant pianist, whether or not you believe it. And you’re going to make an even more brilliant lawyer, sleep or no sleep.”

“Don’t be smarmy, Cass.” But she was smiling, softly, as her fingers tapped out a bit of Rachmaninoff on the soft, worn leather of her sheet music portfolio.

[maplecornia]

chapter 24

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.94K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: things are getting heavyyy

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear |@mangminnie | @pixiekooo

If you're still enough, you can hear the inner whispers of your heart.

Have you noticed?

You're able to hear everything you have kept locked away. It tries to break through the cage, and you can feel the chains growing weaker and weaker with each passing moment. Each tick of the clock drawing closer and closer to the moment where you can no longer hold it in.

Where you finally break down.

Taehyung sighs and leans back in his chair, the meeting room now empty and dark. It's hard to believe that at the break of day it was filled with conflict and torn decisions.

-

"I'm against it."

At the sound of Yoongi's sharp dismissal, it's as though the room wakes up. Some in protest, some in shock. Suga raises his brow at the reaction, almost scoffing when he sees it.

"It's too much of a risk." He sighs almost in contempt. "If you want her so badly, why not sign her with Source or Pledis? They're our shareholders for a reason. Plus, since we're all under HYBE it will be exactly like she were a BigHit affiliation. Given the way this industry runs, however, she's probably best out of Kpop and should be signed under HYBE America. After all, she is a foreigner."

Though they are harsh, his words make sense. This would be the most logical approach rather than breaking their ban on female trainees. They made the ban for a reason, Yoongi doesn't understand why they would throw that away for someone who is slightly talented.

Besides, what about every other talented girl before her?

What reason should she have to achieve the dream which they were denied?

"I have to agree with Yoongi," Jin speaks up, his brow furrowed in concentration. "She has a unique and beautiful voice, that much is true. It'd be a shame to let it go, but if you think about it, we wouldn't be letting it go. Giving it to another company under HYBE might provide a better chance for her in the industry."

Taehyung bites his lip, not liking where this is going.

Jin glances around the table, hesitating before he says his next piece.

"We just got back, can we trust that they'll accept us if we do this? Next thing you know there'll be rumors of a scandal."

Though it was all on their minds, it still hurts to hear it out loud.

Can they trust ARMY to be there for them this time?

"It is a bit concerning. She'll be the only female trainee in an all-male company. Can you imagine the rumors? The field day Dispatch would have? She'd be hated before she even had a chance to show them her worth." Jhope murmurs under his breath, his eyes sparkling with deep worry.

They've all faced that. The fear of being hated for just being you. For existing without the mask.

"But I liked her," Jimin says, leaning forward. Though his words are simple, they are said with the most sincerity. "She's someone you hardly ever see, her voice stays with you, it doesn't leave. It's the kind that people can't get enough of. That's something special...shouldn't we take that into account?"

Biting his inner cheek, Taehyung glances up at BangPD, wondering if he knows. Did Jungkook tell him? He knew about Yen, why wouldn't he have found out about him as well?

If only he hadn't saved that recording. If only he hadn't been so careless, then none of this would have happened.

Somehow he feels as though those moments are being stolen from him.

"Jimin has a point, Yoongi. Did you hear her?" Jin speaks up, his gaze glazing over as though he were looking into the distance. Or recalling a long forgotten memory. Yoongi scoffs and smirks bitterly.

"Of course I did, I have ears."

"Are you sure?" Jin mutters in response, but it's almost as though Yoongi can't hear him.

"Think of this realistically, you have to know there's zero to no chance of her making it. Even if she's talented." There's a moment of uncomfortable silence at his words, words which no one wanted themselves to say. Sighing, Suga gestures towards Namjoon.

"Come on, Joon back me up here."

The room turns to Namjoon, waiting to hear his response.

He stays silent for a moment, his hand resting on his chin as he ponders the situation, his deep eyes calculating moves and countermoves. Possible situation and solutions.

All while trying to forget that the possible trainee is Yen.

Biting his bottom lip, he can't help but remember the way she was in the studio. How her eyes lit up with unimaginable love and devotion. A look only a fellow artist would be able to recognize. She was made for this, he can tell. She yearns to sing, to be lost in music, enveloped in a world of her own making. To be able to share that with others.

Looking over at BangPD, he narrows his eyes thoughtfully.

"What are you planning to do?"

Yoongi's eyes widen at Namjoon’s question, and he leans back, looking to BangPD's response. Bang Sihyuk smiles softly, almost as though he expected this.

For some reason, that look irks Taehyung.

Don’t think you can control us. We weren’t made for your chessboard.

"It will be on a purely trial basis. I am planning to sign her as a trainee, but the public will not know about it until I am sure that she will be a good addition." He looks towards Suga, pointedly directing his next statement towards him. "I understand your concerns for her. After all, she would be our first female trainee for a while."

Suga bites his inner cheek in protest, leaning back in his chair and brooding.

"However, I have been planning this for a while now." The room goes silent with the revelation as they turn to him, waiting for him to reveal more. "Ever since you've left for the military, I've been thinking of possible trainees to recruit for a new girl group. The first girl group to be officially under BigHit entertainment. They would be managed, produced, and signed underneath our label. Not through a loophole like BE:LIFT, Source Music, or Pledis. This would be ours and ours alone."

Jimin shakes his head in confusion. "Why now? What changed?"

BangPD sighs, his careful eyes scanning the room in a calm and collected manner.

"I don't know entirely myself." He rubs his face before continuing, playing with the portfolio of Yen. "I thought it was time to expand our horizons, to try something new...I guess you could say I was inspired."

He glances towards Namjoon, and Joon can't help but remember that day all those years ago.

The day when BangPD proposed a plan, an inspiration to him, not quite unlike this one.

Namjoon’s brow furrowed in concentration, he turns to your smiling photo, still spread across the table.

Was it you?

Were you the reason for this inspiration?

"In any case, before I moved any further, I wanted to see if things would work out with her. One trainee. I didn't want to make a mistake like last time, hence the trial period." Bang Sihyuk continues, swaying a bit in his chair.

"Who would train her?" Taehyung mutters underneath his breath, unable to look away from your photo this whole time. Turning to BangPD, his eyes are aflame with conviction. "If we have our normal staff take part in her training, we won't be able to control who else could find out. If her existence were to be completely secret, who could we trust?"

It's a valid question, but Taehyung doesn't like the glint Sihyuk gets in his eyes at the notion. Silently, he wishes he never spoke up. Maybe then he would've been able to stay under the radar, and BangPD would never have to suspect he had any affiliation with the girl.

With Yen.

"You would."

Two words is all it takes.

Two words and the room is in an uproar.

"What are you talking about?! We have enough on our plate with our comeback, and now you expect us to train a girl who shouldn't even be here in the first place?!" Yoongi is so outraged that he stands, his chair rolling back into the wall.

"Yoongi, calm down--" RM begins, but Suga isn't willing to listen to anyone at the moment.

"Do you have any idea how much pressure we're under? And now you want to add an inexperienced trainee to our list of burdens just because she can sing?!" he snarls, his lip curling in disgust, his eyes dark with anger.

"Yoongi-hyung, you heard her voice. You have to admit that we found something here." Jungkook speaks up, meekly. Taehyung narrows his eyes his way.

Just what does Jungkook get out of all this? Taehyung knows he has to be the one who gave BangPD the file of your voice. He was the only other one there, besides Taehyung. Taehyung himself couldn’t bring himself to give you the flash drive, but Jungkook didn’t even think to tell you. He went straight to BangPD as though this were his decision to make. Did he even think of asking you what you thought?

What’s your angle?

Yoongi rolls his eyes, gesturing to the portfolio on the table.

"Yeah, we found something. But not something worth risking everything we built over!"

"Don't you think you're being a dramatic? We aren't even sure if this will work out. It's just a trial, and it's the best option for us to train them given the situation." Namjoon murmurs, rationally. Suga's eyes flame with defiance at the rebuttal and slams his hand on the table.

"And what happens if word gets out before we're ready?"

The room goes silent with the ultimatum, and they all avoid his gaze.

"What happens when we're the cause of her downfall?"

Glancing at each other, they ponder the question. A question that has weighed heavily on them ever since they debuted, ever since they became the star in the public's eye. Ever since the world knew about the boy group...

BTS.

Scowling, Yoongi pulls away.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't have time for this. I have work to do, work that has been waiting for us for 2 years! Or did you all forget our promise?" When they don't answer him, he scoffs, pulling his backpack on his shoulder and walking out the door. "I'll see you at practice."

There's a moment of silence as soon as Yoongi leaves, silence uncomfortable and pressing. Licking his lips in nervous anticipation, Hoseok looks at the rest of them, almost unsure.

"Is he going to be okay?"

BangPD leans forward, folding his hands on the table.

"Don't worry about Yoongi, I'll talk to him later. But what about the rest of you?"

His quick, analytical eyes scan the table, hovering over every one of them. Almost as if he were trying to predict what exactly they would say next.

"Do you agree?"

-

Now, Taehyung grits his teeth. His grip tightening around the water bottle he was playing with in his hands, he throws it across the wall. As he watches it crumble at the force, he finds the ruin in his mind easing. Water drips off of the wall, and he feels a sort of sadistic satisfaction at the sight of destruction.

Now he’s not the only one broken.

But once that fades, he's left once more with his memories and his regret.

"Dammit." He groans, dropping his face in his hands hopelessly.

-

Standing, Tae grabs Jungkook by the hand before he can follow the rest of them out. The door shuts behind them, leaving only him and Jungkook in the meeting room, an uneasy silence hanging over them. With words they need to say, questions waiting to be answered.

"Taeh--" Jungkook begins, but in his rush, Tae interrupts him.

"Were you there?"

The silence that blossoms between them grows to a deafening roar as Jungkook gently pulls away from Taehyung's firm hold. It creates a bitter but necessary distance between the two of them. It lets them know that they're different, that what happened back then was something that belonged to one as much as it did the other.

"You heard her too, didn't you?" Jungkook murmurs, his words turning Taehyung's blood cold. Smiling softly, Jungkook runs his hands through his hair. "I saw you as you were leaving, you were the one who recorded her, aren't you?"

Biting his bottom lip, Tae can't answer. Even though he knows that moment wasn't his, even though he knows that his ideas of fate and chance have been destroyed, he's unable to admit to it. He can't find it in him to voice the fact that he was there, that he gave birth to her chance, and he wanted it to be his and his alone.

Jungkook chuckles nervously at the silence before speaking once more.

"I wonder...why didn't you have the same idea as me?"

-

His hands tangled up in the locks of his hair, Taehyung stares at the slick wooden table, his heart in knots and his mind jumbled.

"Why didn't I?" he mutters to himself, a soft whisper that lingers empty on the air. "Why couldn't I say anything?"

Pulling away from the table, where Yen's future was decided this morning, he swallows hard. By the end of the day, he found himself lingering around this room, the studio, anyplace that reminded him of her.

Laughing bitterly, he rubs his forehead.

"Why..." He whispers, holding his phone tightly to his chest.

"Why can't I forget you?"

Biting his bottom lip, he quickly messages you, having the sudden urge to see you. Maybe then, would he realize what he can't find? Would he be able to create another memory, another moment in time? One that was yours and yours alone?

After a couple of moments, you don't answer.

Maybe...I was just afraid of letting go.

Standing almost decisively, he rushes out of the room, and down the hallways of the building.

I need to know.

As he rides the same elevator you rode yesterday down to the lobby, he holds his phone tighter in his hand.

If I don't find out now, I may never get another chance.

Desperate, he sends another message to you.

One more time.

Catching his face in the metallic walls of the elevator, he can't help but imagine yours smiling up at him. A face that makes everything seem alright again.

That's all I need.

What happens when that is taken away from him? What happens when he can no longer see the person who gives him courage? Biting his lip, he can feel the pain in his chest grow.

Just let me see you one more time.

He doesn't want to let you go.

As the elevator dings and he steps out, he pauses, seeing Namjoon right in front of him. Namjoon glances up, his eyes glazed over and tired, but when he sees Tae, they widen in recognition. Taehyung smiles inwardly to himself, he knows this look. A look lost in the wilderness of creativity and desolation.

"Oh, Taehyung!" he says, and Taehyung nods to him curtly before brushing past him and continuing to the front door. Namjoon, however, catches him by the wrist and Tae pauses, turning around.

"Namjoon?" His face is blank, but something in his eyes tells Tae to be wary. They are sort of dark, not really there, but urgent and anxious. Taehyung wonders how eyes can hold so many words, and yet tell you nothing at all.

"You knew, didn't you?"

At his words, Tae blinks, his heart pounding.

"I..."

"That's why you followed her, how you knew about her injury."

How does he know?

"When were you going to tell me?"

Biting his bottom lip, Taehyung can't help but feel a bit of aggravation towards his older friend. Why can't he keep anything to himself? Why is it a crime for him to live his own life, without everyone looking in? Yanking his arm out of Namjoon's grip, he scowls, turning on his heel.

"When it became your business."

Namjoon stands there, a bit in shock before rushing forward and taking Tae forcibly by the arm once more.

"Taehyung, wait!" At his touch, Tae tries to pull away, but Namjoon won't budge, his eyes desperate and wild. They unnerve Taehyung, make him want to escape, hide away until everything turns back to normal again. "If she's going to become an idol, any affiliation you have with her will only hurt her."

Tae's eyes widen at his words, snapping a hidden string he didn't know he had inside of him. RM doesn't notice, instead, his grip tightens around Tae until he feels as though he's suffocating from the inside out.

"You know that right?"

Gritting his teeth, Tae pulls away from Namjoon, staggering back until he's a good distance away. Raising his eyes to his hyung, Namjoon finds a look he's never seen in his younger friend before.

Loathing.

"Don't act as though you know everything." He spits before turning away and walking out of the door.

Namjoon sighs as he watches him leave before glancing over at the now empty lobby. The lobby where just a day ago, he met a sweet, cheerful girl. Someone who filled his mind with inspiration and wonder.

Smiling sadly, he rubs the back of his neck, looking up at the sky as though that will offer him the answers he seeks.

"Just who are you, Yen?"

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: this one was actually pretty hard to write, i'm ngl ;-;

chapter 25 here

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[hankwritten]

And She Dresses Like a Scoundrel

Engineer/Spy, 2k

Part of the DontNeedADiscord Pride Week, Day 4: Fashion

“Thank you, Engineer,” I said gratefully, accepting back the once again functional disguise kit.

“No problem, partner,” he replied, gracious as ever. “Must have been a hard three days without it.”

“Indeed.” I sighed, recalling how many sentries had gotten the better of me with a grimace. “To think, less than a year ago I was relying entirely on my own skills of camouflage to create my disguise. I would even do it for fun! But here I am, ten months working for BLU and I’ve become completely dependent on their technology.” Another sigh, this time more beleaguered. “Truly, I have let myself slip.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Spy,” he said, consoling.

I raised my hand. “No need to be patronizing, my friend. I know the writing on the wall.” I waved, preparing to exit his workshop. “Thank you again for the repair, Engineer.”

But as I was halfway to the door, Engie blurted, “why don’t you?”

“Come again?” I asked, turning around.

“Why don’t you make your own disguises anymore?” he repeated, seemingly genuinely confused.

“As I said, I haven’t needed to,” I shrugged. “And thus, my skills have lapsed.”

“But if it was for fun, why’d you stop?”

At that I paused. It had been fun, one of my greatest prides was coming up with a new face and a new identity to fit any particular occasion. There was no greater joy than reintroducing yourself to someone under a new guise and seeing them have no idea.

“…I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “Probably because, despite my enjoyment, I associated the activity exclusively with work.”

That satisfied his curiosity, though it did make him rather dour. “Makes sense.” He thought for a moment. “But you could always pick it back up again?”

“I’d be horridly out of practice,” I waved off.

“So? We all gotta start somewhere.”

I tilted my head. “Why does this interest you so?”

He pushed up his goggles, chewing on some thought until it left a peculiar look about his face. “Just seems a shame,” he said eventually, “All that talent going to waste. You seem mighty busy all the time, never see you do anything just because you enjoy it.”

I pressed my lips together. There was a certain truth to that, and I wondered internally if I was being resistant for no reason. “...Hm. I... suppose you are right. Even if I do have access to a near flawless disguise kit, there’s no reason to set it aside entirely.”

“There you go! You sound gung-ho already.”

I didn’t, but he was familiar with my habit of faint praise to cover up genuine enthusiasm. “I appreciate the suggestion,” I told him honestly. “…Maybe when you see me next, you won’t even know it is I.”

Engie grinned, and it was charming how vicious he looked when he was trying to be encouraging. “Looking forward to it.”

Of my old wigs, only the black one with its loose curls had managed to survive its year in storage. Even still, there was frizz on a good portion of it, and after a half hour of teasing I gave up and began tearing apart the rest of my wardrobe for something to lesson its imperfections. What I found was a scarf, red and silken, and decided it would have to do.

A full-length buttoned coat, and pair of striped legs. Yes, these would be serviceable.

But first, makeup . I remembered that much at least, though I failed to recall the first rule of application: always begin with the eyes. The result was that I was left with a perfect pair of heart lips and a disgusting smudge across my sockets, the latter of which I had no interest in starting over on. Instead, I retrieved a pair of sunglasses from my trunk. I deserved to cut a few corners after so long, and anyone who said differently could try their makeup after a year without practice and see if they could do better.

When I was done, a perfectly lovely woman stared back at me. The stare turned into a frown. A perfectly lovely woman a year out of fashion. What was I wearing? Leggings? Good god, those were on the way out last fall.

I began to examine myself in the mirror, cursing myself for ever becoming so woefully outdated. I’d had my finger in the crease of Dapper Cadaver without pause for the past hundred issues, but I hadn’t even bothered to pick up a single magazine on women’s fashion? Disgraceful. Something would have to be done about this.

By the time I made it down to breakfast, someone had already made the first pot of the morning. I filled a mug and sat down.

Medic didn’t so much as blink. He lifted his eyes, greeting, “Guten Morgen, Herr Spy,” and returned to his medical notes. By the spots of blood, they were likely fresh.

Soldier was another story. “By God! You finally did it, Nurse,” he said, gripping the back of Medic’s chair and shaking him slightly. “You turned Spy into a woman!”

“I did not,” Medic said, peeling one of Soldier’s hands off his shoulder. He then considered for a moment, and addressed me, “unless this is your way of making a statement?”

“Non,” I shook my head. “Not entirely, at least. Soldier is right, but this is not permanent: I simply wished to get back into a more…flexible mode of presentation.” I paused for a second. “What did he mean by ‘finally’?”

“Are you implying I have been working secretly in my lab for the past two years on some sort of sex-change ray that would be sure to result in wacky hijinxs should it ever be completed?” Medic sipped his coffee. “Because I’m not and that is ridiculous.”

“…I see.”

If Soldier’s reaction was passionate, Engineer’s was somehow even more so. Before he even fully entered the kitchen, he stopped dead, his eyes locked on me. A few times he tried to speak, failed, and settled for scratching the back of his neck.

“Seems like you took my advice on the whole disguise work,” he said eventually. Now he had trouble looking at me altogether, a deep blush forming along his cheeks.

“I did,” I smirked, amused at his state. “Though unfortunately I’ve found my current wardrobe is not what I’d like it to be. I was hoping to use today’s ceasefire to do some shopping.”

“You want some company?” he asked, then immediately got flustered again. “Just uh…cause I know you don’t like taking your car though all the dust ‘less you absolutely have to, and nearest city with a shopping mall is pretty far…”

“Ah, so you are offering to drive,” I mused. “And here I thought you believed I suddenly needed assistance carrying my bags.”

Medic snorted, though when Engie shot him a glare he showed no indication he’d even been listening.

“…I can give you a lift, sure,” the Engineer affirmed slowly, still frowning offendedly in Medic’s direction.

“That is unacceptable!” Soldier chimed, brining his fist down on the table and making the silverware tinkle. “You two are not yet married! You think you can just go on a trip into town while unchaperoned? It is indecent!”

Engie sputtered, losing the bit of coffee he’d had the misfortune of drinking. “Soldier! What hell are you talking about?” he sputtered. “That ain’t- it’s still just Spy.”

“Exactly,” Soldier agreed. “That is why the two of you cannot be left alone together. Do not worry! I volunteer to accompany you on this shopping trip.”

Medic was laughing, having a much more difficult time hiding it now.

I grinned placidly. “You heard the man, Engineer,” I said. “It would go against decency to be about without a chaperone.”

“Fine,” he said, pulling his helmet further over his eyes. “Guess I’ll make the truck up for three.”

As much as I wanted to see if he would pop like a balloon if any more blood went to his face, I decided he’d had enough for the morning. I kept our conversation within acceptable subjects on the way up, and refrained from commenting on his new collection of odd mannerisms. It was quite adorable actually, especially when Soldier would lean out of the back seat every now and then to remind him ‘no funny business’.

When arriving at the glorious superplex that was the Santa Fe outdoor mall, the first thing on my agenda was a new jacket. The one extracted from the bowels of my old wardrobe was such a drab mauve, and with some help from the assistant at Loveman’s, I was able to find a few acceptable pantsuits. One could only expect “acceptable” when shopping chic in a department store—and a department store in America no less—but hopefully the rivers of fashion had trickled down enough that I wouldn’t embarrass myself too badly. The white plaid one was even quite fetching.

Next were hats.

“Engineer! Spy!” Soldier arrested our attention with. “I have located something I would like to purchase.”

He was wearing a newsboy hat over the top of his helmet.

“You needn’t ask us for permission,” I told him. “You have your own funds.”

He straightened like he honestly hadn’t thought of that. “Okay!” Then he was off again, sorting through the seemingly never-ending headwear.

“Some chaperone,” Engie remarked as he disappeared.

“I’m sure we can be trusted alone for but a few minutes,” I said, turning with a blue cloche hat in place. “What do you think of this one?”

“As pretty as the last. I mean-” He coughed. “Looks just fine.”

I smiled. “Here I thought you’d had enough teasing, but it seems you’re doing all the work for me.”

“Dang it Spy, I just meant-” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You know what, let’s just head to the jewelry.”

I shook my head. “Unfortunately jewelry is too much of a hazard. Rings and bracelets make removing gloves difficult, and necklaces are extremely useful for strangling your target from behind.”

“Terrifying that you put it like that, but remember you ain’t doing this for the job,” he prompted. “This is you getting a chance to try something different. D’ya want to wear a necklace?”

As he said it, he moved closer to the jewelry counter. I followed him, peering through the glass at all the trinkets I usually dismissed when assembling a woman’s portfolio. They were lovely…

“Mademoiselle,” I called to the woman behind the counter. “Might I be able to try this on?”

Engie whistled. “Nice choice.”

“I happen to have exquisite taste in jewelry,” I told him, gazing at my reflection in the glass as it wore the blue teardrop pendant I had picked out. “Both when selecting for a lover, or for myself.”

The attendant gave me an odd look, but it was worth it to see Engineer chuckle in a way that no longer uncomfortable.

“I have located another!” Soldier informed us as we took our bag. This time he was wearing a Viking helmet. From where he had obtained it, I had no idea.

“Then finish up paying,” Engie said. “We’re heading out soon.”

“Not so fast, Engineer,” I stopped him as he’d taken a step toward the door. “We still have not gotten anything for you.”

“Me?” he balked, craning his neck around like he was suddenly intimidated by the voluptuous mannequins surrounding us. “I don’t need nothin’…”

“And why not?” I asked. “We have dedicated the whole morning to me, and Soldier is finding ways to entertain himself, why shouldn’t you acquire something nice?”

“I…”

“Please, my friend,” I said. “My treat.”

“…Alright,” he sighed. “Sorry Sol, looks like-”

Soldier had acquired a bowler hat, which he wore on top of his Viking helm.

“-Well okay then.”

The Engineer provided an interesting challenge. The first thing I noticed was that everything in his size was far too long for him, and it made me question how he’d even found fitting clothes in the first place when everything in the store simply wanted to fall off him in tubes. He explained that he usually had to hem up his pants after buying them. I thought that was adorable, to which he muttered a string of ‘aw shucks’.

In a montage where Engie grew more flustered by the minute, I managed to get him into a delightful pair of corduroy pants with a mustard button down, an orange sweater with matching slacks, and a simple floral print button down that might go under his overalls. However, my absolute favorite was-

“Well now you’re just being rude,” he said, holding up the jacket.

“Howdy partner,” I mimicked. “Why don’t we just give up?”

“I don’t sound like that,” he complained. “And I definitely don’t wear things like this.”

The cowboy leathers were the sort of pink you saw from a mile away, genuine cow hide wasted on the monstrosity in his hands. There were more tassels than a man could ever want, and they went wonderfully with the white chaps and matching white Stetson.

“This is an eyesore,” he said.

“So are your regular clothes,” I reflected. “Please, I only ask that you try them on.”

He grumbled, and stepped into the changing room. That was good. I’d hate to have to bring out the, ‘for me?’.

“It’s certainly…something,” I said six minutes later.

“A trainwreck,” Engie said.

“You’re smiling,” I pointed out.

He grinned a little wider. He turned in a circle, the hundreds of tassels swishing around him, and then for good measure did a little two-step. I couldn’t help but chuckle with a hand over my mouth.

A shopper with a mustache passed by and gave us a strange look, and for some reason I started laughing harder.

“What’s got you so tickled?” Engie inquired.

“Nothing,” I waved off with a smile. “I was just thinking: after the thirty-five times the two of use have appeared in public together, this the first that you’re the queer one.”

He paused for a moment, looking down at himself. “Heh, I guess so.” Then he started to laugh. “…So. You been counting the number of times we’ve gone out together?”

“Is it so odd that I enjoy your company?

“No but…” he studied me for a moment. “Would you like to do this again some time? Assuming we can ditch the chaperone.”

“Mr. Conagher, how scandalous!” I said with mock horror. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He gave me one of those charming smiles again, and my heart fluttered ever so slightly.

Soldier greeted us on the way out, hat boxes stacked so high we couldn’t see his face anymore. “Operation successful! Move out troops!”

“Soldier,” Engie asked as he began securing boxes in the back of his pickup so there wouldn’t be a colossal hat pileup on the highway, “how long until you stop following my ‘n Spy around?”

“I do not know. Spy! How long are you going to be a women?”

I adjusted my new hat in the side mirror. “Until I feel otherwise.”

“Well then there you go!” Soldier declared. “It is perfectly acceptable for two unmarried men to be alone together, so you may resume making moon eyes at each other then.”

That, for once, got us both to flush.

[moldisgoodforyou]

i love you, say it back

wordcount: 1.8k

warning: you might gag it’s pretty fucking cute also there’s cursing there is always cursing

_____

“Hey, Soph.” Rafe tried snapping her out of her thoughts as she mumbled to herself, trying to calculate her midterm grades. Sophie had been chewing on her lip for the past ten minutes, anxious about if she could pull off an A in two of her classes or if she could manage a B+ on her global history midterm. “Hm?” She mumbled, keeping her eyes tracked on her calculation in her notebook.

“You’re stressing me out.” He nudged her foot under the table, trying to get her to look up. They were alone in her architecture lab, late at night, and Rafe was mainly keeping her company, just doing some homework while she was working on a model. It was a typical spot for them on Thursday nights, if he wasn’t able to convince her to go out instead. 

“Oh I’m sorry, you’re free to leave then.” She replied, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Soph.” He tried catching her attention again, looking at her with a fond smile.

She glanced up with an apologetic look. “Sorry, didn’t mean it.”

“I know. Hey, let’s take a break, we’ve been here for five hours. What are you working on now?” Rafe came around and stood behind her, pulling her shoulders back to rub them.

She resisted for a second then let her head fall back, closing her eyes for a moment. “I’m figuring out my grades. I need at least an 84 on my global history midterm to pull it up, and I need a solid 87 on this model to keep my A in environmental studies, and an 88 on my other one to keep the A in programming, which is going to be fucking impossible, and -”

“You’ll be fine, baby, you’re a great student, you work hard. Take a break.” He urged, trying to tug her up out of her chair. She spun in the chair, looking up at him. “You don’t understand. I can’t, I still have at least 20 hours left on this one model.”

“You have a whole week -”

She scrunched up her nose in the familiar way she did when she was frustrated and Rafe had to resist grinning at her. He had made that mistake once, maybe twice, and she had just gotten pissed off that he wasn’t taking her seriously. “No, I have to get this portfolio perfect too. I’m applying to master’s programs next year and if I half-ass this project then it’ll show.”

He took her hands, tugging again to pull her up. “Soph, I love you, but you gotta stop putting so much pressure on yourself. Let’s take a break.”

I love you.

She froze and tuned out every single word after that, just blinking up at him.

“You what?”

“I said you need to stop putting -”

Sophie shook her head quickly. “No, before that. You said you loved me.”

Rafe raised his eyebrows, his arms going slack and he dropped her hands, exhaling slowly. “Oh. Did I?”

She spoke quickly, anxious, and grabbed one of his hands. “If you didn’t mean it that’s fine, I -”

“No!” He interrupted her and knelt down to her eye level in the chair. “I did! I do. I mean it.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, keeping eye contact and softened his voice a bit. “I love you.”  

Sophie gave him a tight-lipped smile, clearly nervous. “Really? Me?”

“Of course you.” He grabbed the chair beside her and pulled it to sit, then rubbed his thumb back and forth over her hand, growing tense again. “I wish it hadn’t just slipped out like that, but I’d been meaning to tell you.” He paused. “I’ve known for a while now, I think.”

She finally came to her senses and pulled him in with both hands on either side of his face, giving him a deep kiss. He finally relaxed and smiled against her lips. “I...you’re my favorite, you know?” She grinned.

He nodded and did his best to hold back his disappointment, his heart pounding in his ears and all he could think was she didn’t say it back. “Yeah. Better be.”

She kissed him again, long and slow, then pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against his. “I, um...I can’t...” Sophie trailed off, hoping he’d get the hint.

Rafe cocked his head. “Can’t what?”

She leaned away, biting her lip anxiously. “I can’t say it back. I’m sorry, it’s not like I don’t - I don’t know -”

His face fell for a moment but he recovered quickly, forcing a short smile. “Hey, hey.” He interrupted, cutting her off with a quick kiss. “I know. It’s okay. Let’s just... let’s go take a break. Walk around, move a little.”  

“I don’t know, Rafe, I gotta finish this -”

“Not asking, angel.” He stood, tugging on her hands again. She gave him a wry smile, shaking her head. “You know what that does to me, not fair.” Rafe laughed and nodded. “I know. C’mon, I’ll drag you out of here if I have to. Ten minute walk and then I’ll let you work again.”

She laughed and stood, giving him a quick hug first. He caught her around the waist and wrapped his arms around her, tight. “Love you, Soph. You’re my girl, don’t forget it.” She only nodded, words on the tip of her tongue as she rested her head against his chest. “Hey Rafe?” 

“What’s up?” He held her for a little while longer, smoothing his hand over her hair. 

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled, not willing to look at him. She’d felt it coming from him for a while and had tried to prepare herself, but the weight of his words fell on her like a ton of bricks. 

“You don’t need to apologize.” He kissed the top of her head, then let her go. “Come on, let’s go walk.” He cleared his throat. “Get your mind off of things.” 

She didn’t need a translator to know what things meant.

-

Although every single instinct in Sophie was screaming at her to distance herself from Rafe for the next decade until he lost interest, she made herself continue to hang out with him like normal. She saw the way Rafe’s face dropped after she told him she couldn’t say it back and absolutely hated the way it made her feel - something that made her stop and think. 

She’d never let herself get too attached in previous relationships, always being the one to break it off first. Usually she allowed herself a week-long maximum mourning period, then moved on to the next thing. The fact that Rafe even cared enough to say he loved her made her want to stay, to try, just for him. 

Rafe was a little distant on his own part, trying not to get too upset with Sophie for not returning the sentiment. After all, he felt like he’d known since December - only two months into dating - and it didn’t feel right for him to say it then. He was a little hurt, but he’d also tried telling her at least twice already and chickened out. He just hoped she was feeling the same way.

_

Two weeks later, she snuck Rafe into the Theta house up the fire escape. She had just turned in her final project and declared a celebration was in order. He had the routine down by then - walk over, wait around the corner ‘til the coast was clear, hop the gate then come up the fire escape to the top floor. Allie and Julia were just leaving as he was climbing up the stairs, trying his best to keep quiet.

“Skip the fifteenth step.” Julia advised him as they watched him scale the stairs from the parking lot. Rafe paused, unable to place the voice in the dark and tucked a shoebox under his arm, not sure if he should hide or just run. “I’m not causing any trouble, I swear.” Allie laughed and shone her phone flashlight on him. “Just us, Cameron, we won’t tell.”

“Oh.” He laughed. “Is Soph up there waiting?”

“Yeah, will you convince her to come out with us tomorrow? She’s being lame.” Julia called out.

“I’ll do my best. Can you stop shining the light? I’m gonna get her in trouble.”

“Climb faster.” Allie teased as Sophie pushed open the door up top. “You two are the worst, you know that?” She called down, grinning as Rafe made it up.

“Yeah, yeah, you love us!” Julia yelled back, much louder than necessary. Sophie laughed and grabbed Rafe’s hand, pulling him down the hall and into her room quickly. “Are they gonna give me shit every time I come over?” He asked, smiling.

“Yeah, but it’s ‘cause they like you.” She raised her eyebrows. “What’s in the box?”

Rafe grinned, holding out the shoebox with a poorly-tied ribbon on top. “Made you something, to celebrate. Presentation isn’t quite there, but. It’s something.”

“Something.” She repeated, raising her eyebrows. Sophie took the box and untied the ribbon, then gasped when she opened it. “Rafe, you didn’t!” Inside were 7 cupcakes, haphazardly decorated with pink frosting - her favorite color. 

He beamed, rocking back on his heels. “I hope they’re okay, I had to use the fancy ovens we have in the Delt kitchen. And it’s just from a box, but the box is normally okay, I think? James stole one - he didn’t know - but he thought it was good.”

She pulled out her phone to take a quick video of them first, then panned the video up to Rafe. He pushed her phone away with a grin, turning a little red. “It’s kind of cheesy, I guess. But. You deserve it. I’m proud of you.”

“God, I love you.” She breathed out, grinning ear to ear. 

He paused for a moment, seeming to process, then came over and wrapped her in a tight hug. “You said it back.”

“I mean it.” She kissed him quickly, a blush on her cheeks. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He replied, pressing his lips to her forehead. She giggled and reached up, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “You have dried frosting on your face.” He scowled but let her rub it away. “Pretty sure there’s flour in my hair too.”

“How’d you know I wanted cake?”

“You mentioned it last week when we watched Matilda, you said you wanted to celebrate with it when you finished finals. But more importantly, you love me back.” He grinned.

“I do.” She laughed. “I mean it, too. I love you.” 

“I could hear you say that for ages.” He smiled, looking pleased. “I swear I’ll never get tired of it.”

“Careful what you wish for.” She teased and reached up to kiss him again.

Rafe laughed against her lips, then pulled away just to press his forehead against hers. “I’m glad you waited, you know. I didn’t want you to say it back just to say it.” 

“You know I would have held out longer if I didn’t mean it.” She nudged her nose against his. “You’re still my favorite though.” 

He beamed and nudged her nose back. “Always my favorite, Soph.” 

[angelwiththeblue-box]

together through it all

im writing this story for an nyu portfolio, hope yall like it

I slid the headphones over my ears and flicked on the radio.

It’s been seven months since the world stopped. I’m not particularly sure what caused it. Me and Maya, my girlfriend, were out to eat. It was our date night, the one night where neither of us are working. I’m a physicist and she works late shifts, so our schedules are always a bit weird, but we make it work. We went to Maya’s favorite restaurant, a cute little 80s style diner. They even had a jukebox in the corner.

We were just finishing ordering when glass shattered and everything went dark. Invisible forces smashed through windows and I grabbed Maya’s arm and the two of us ran out of the diner. I turned back, like a fool, to watch as something shimmered, like a glare of a mirror reflecting in the sun.

Seven months, Maya and I had been moving from abandoned house to abandoned house. No one knows what the creatures look like. All we know is they came one day, taking out all electrical based power with them, and they haven’t stopped. Maya’s had been trying to figure out what they are. She’s a biologist and a damn good one too, but since she has no samples to study, and no lab to study them in, we’ve resorted to doing our best to survive.

The sound crackled and popped and I threw the headphones off.

“Ow!” I whined.

Footsteps creaked and I looked up to see Maya standing above me. Her dark brown hair was tied into a loose bun above her head and her clothes were tattered from wear. Both of ours were.

“Still not working?” She said. I sighed and shook my head. In one house, some war vet or weird collector had this old radio. It didn’t run on electricity, which meant it worked. Or, it should. It’s old as hell, and I still haven’t been able to get it working. In my defense, I’m a physicist not an engineer.

“Damn. I really thought that would work.” Maya said, leaning against the desk. “Though, even if we did get it working, what would we do with it? It’s not like everyone is carrying around this old piece of junk.”

“Oh.” I said. “I didn’t think about that.” Maya laughed and poked my shoulder.

“See, you’d be lost without me.”

***

My screams echo in my ears as I shoot up, breathing hard. Sweat trickles down my face and I look around, the dark of the house feeling like it’s closing in on me.

Maya was right. I am lost without her. I still can hear her screams as the creatures ripped her away from me. I couldn’t even see where they took her, but I have to find her. Maya has to be alive. She has to be.

Three weeks. I’ve walked so far, trying to find anyone who might know where the creatures are or even what they look like.

I still carry around the radio. It’s a useless weight on my back, but it’s a reminder of what I lost. Of what I’m trying to find.

I’ll fiddle with the radio every so often, in hopes that maybe I’ll hit a frequency that people are listening to, but no luck. My legs feel like they’re going to give out and every time I think of Maya, tears fill my eyes. I miss her so much it hurts. I how we would watch movies late into the night when neither of us had work the next day. I miss Maya’s pancakes and how we would always end up curled into each other whenever we fell asleep, even if we were angry.

My legs give out and I fall to my knees, tears streaming down my cheeks.

I’m alone. The one person I thought would always be there next to me is gone. There’s no way to find anyone else.

“Hey, it’ll be alright.” I look up, but there’s no one there. “You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“Maya?” I ask, my voice cracking.

“I’m here. I’m here.” But she’s not. She’s not here and she never will be. It’s time to give up. Maya’s gone.

With shaking hands, I pull out my knife.

“I love you, Maya.” I say, plunging the knife into my stomach. Blood pours out and I fall over. My eyes are blurring and I can just barely see the outline of Maya.

“What took you so long?” I reach up and take Maya’s hand and hug her, Maya’s familiar scent envelopes me.

Maya leads me into a golden mist, holding my hand in hers.

Behind me, my body lies, surrounded by crimson blood, but it’s not important, because Maya is here and we’re together, even in death.

[bosspigeon]

one for sorrow

Pairing: Gen, M!Detective/Mason Word Count:  3483 Summary: Juniper Fenn reflects on memories, nursery rhymes, loneliness, and wanting to be wanted.

Just a little (uh... kinda big, actually?) character study for my soft boy, Juni! It wound up a lot more emotional than I originally intended, but I like having this insight into his character.

CW for (implied) deadnaming, misgendering, coming out, and in the last portion a non-graphic post-sex scene with some allusions to said sex ahfdsjh.

                                     One for sorrow, two for joy.

He thought the needle would hurt more than it did. He closes his eyes and looks away, and the artist gives him the hairy eyeball when he clutches at Tina’s knee, like she’s afraid he’ll jump off the bench and bolt for the door. He wants to ask if that’s happened before, but he thinks he’s made enough of a fool of himself so far.

“You sure you’re good?” she asks, giving him an out. Somehow, that just strengthens his resolve.

He takes a slow breath and nods, closing his eyes.

He hears the buzzing, and when the machine first touches skin, he almost jumps, but he’s more worried about looking like more of a baby than he already does than he is startled, so he bites his lips and forces himself to holds still. And it does hurt, but not like he thought it would. He squints one eye open to watch the progress of the first line over his skin. He expects to be repulsed, like when he’s having bloodwork done, and he has to look away from the needle going into his arm. But this is different, somehow. Doesn’t make his stomach turn.

“This is the quietest I’ve ever seen you,” Tina teases, when the first wing has taken shape. He almost jumps again, but he manages to contain it to a twitch. He’s going to tip the artist as much as he’s able after this is done, just for dealing with someone as fidgety as him.

He chews at his lip. “It’s… I dunno. I wouldn’t say it feels good, but it’s kind of soothing, in a weird way?”

She leans over, watching, and the artist gives her a bit of a look, so she backs up again. “Have you told your mum?” she asks.

He snorts out a laugh and looks away, back at the stencil on his arm that will soon be filled in with black feathers and ringed with flowers. “Of course not. She’d probably kill me.”

“She doesn’t like tattoos?” Tina tilts her head, watching his face like she’s waiting for him to start whining about how it hurts. She’s always been the tougher of the two of them, and he’s got no illusions about that, so he’s sort of proud of himself for keeping his cool—as much as he’s got anyway.

He shrugs the arm that’s not under the machine, and wonders when he’ll get his next tattoo. He’s already got ideas for more, and knowing that it’s not so bad as he was worried it would be is exciting. Not to mention, it’s something that’s just for him. Not for anyone else. He’s… never really done anything like this before. “I don’t know what she likes, but I doubt she’d approve.”

She sucks her teeth and he squeezes her knee again when she gives him that soft, sad look she sometimes does when his mum comes up in conversation. “What’s it going to be?” she asks suddenly. Tina’s a good friend, changing the subject before he can get moody about it.

“A magpie,” he says softly, looking back down to watch the lone bird slowly taking shape on his skin.

                                       Three for a girl, four for a boy.

He asks what happened to all the pretty paintings around the house when he’s ten, because they disappear sometime after one of Mum’s visits, when she seemed more distant than usual. Maybe she hopes he won’t notice, but he misses them immediately. The house is too bare without them, it feels so lonely. It’s always been lonely, ever since Dad passed, but the bare walls make it even lonelier. Mum brushes it off, of course. He’s used to it at this point, so he doesn’t push her, but he’s also stubborn, so he goes looking. He’s even more determined when she tries to shut him up by replacing them all with clean, impersonal prints in neat little frames. He finds them in the attic, tucked away in a box, each one slipped carefully into a protective sleeve or folder and wrapped in tissue paper. He finds a dreamy matted watercolor of him as a baby, fat and freckly and smiling with no teeth, and he has to take a minute to sit down and cry as quietly as possible before he can start going through the rest. There’s a folder of scrawled pencil portraits, too. He finds one of Mum sitting on a pier, peeking back over her shoulder with her hair blowing in the wind. She’s smiling. He can’t remember the last time he saw her smile.

There’s a self portrait that makes him laugh through his tears, because the reflective surface Dad seems to have used as his mirror is a Christmas ornament, so his face is distorted, one eye huge, his tongue out, drawing himself drawing. He keeps that one for sure, and a few of the other ones he thinks he can get away with. An oil pastel of a wooden swing dripping with honeysuckle, a colored pencil drawing of the library, a few studies of people and plants and animals, and another watercolor of the three magpies, sitting in a juniper tree.

There are three magpies painted on his bedroom wall, from back when it was his nursery. Dad painted them right after he was born, before they brought him home from the hospital. They’d waited until he arrived to know what his gender would be. Of course, he went and messed that up, like he did most things. Sometimes he wonders if Dad would be disappointed, or if he’d think it was funny.

They used to be above his crib, and then his bed when he outgrew that, but he moves his bed to the opposite side of his room when he���s fourteen, and covers them with a poster. He thinks for sure Mum’s going to give him an earful about it, but he’s surprised she hasn’t tried to cover them up herself. He supposes it’s not really an issue, since when she is home, it’s not like she spends any time in his bedroom.

And then he's sixteen, and he’s been practicing his watercolor for years at this point. Sometimes, he creeps into the attic when he’s got the house to himself, rifles through Dad’s paintings, studies his style for as long as he can. He’s been old enough not to need a proper nanny for years now, though someone comes to check up on him frequently and make sure he’s got food and necessities, but beyond that he’s got plenty of time alone. He sits in the attic until he's sore from the wooden floor, trying to think of how Dad’s hands might have looked while he worked, the speed and angle of his brush strokes. He doesn’t think he can find anything new at this point, as many times as he’s snuck up here to look at Dad’s work, but out of the blue, he finds what might have been a really nice landscape, if it weren’t marred by fat little handprints in bright yellow and green, as if he’d smeared his hands across the palette the second Da took his eyes off it, and slapped them down in the middle of the paper. He comes back to it a lot, when he spends time in the attic, because when he looks at it, he swears he can hear what he imagines Dad’s laugh sounded like, his voice calling him a little menace with all the fondness in the world. 

And then he’s eighteen, and he’s alone on his birthday. Mum calls, tells him she loves him and she would come and visit him later on, so they could do something together, but she couldn’t take the day off. She tells him how proud she is of her daughter being all grown up, and he winces, but keeps his mouth shut.

And then he maybe gets a little bit drunk, drags out his paints and brushes, rifles through the portfolio hidden carefully in the back of his closet, and finds the painting with the juniper tree and the three magpies

He takes another shot to steady his nerves, and paints in a fourth.

                                      Five for silver, six for gold.

He shouldn’t be surprised Mum doesn't come to his graduation, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. She’s busy, she’s always been busy, she’s been busy since he was a toddler.

He was stupid to believe anything he did would be important enough for her to bother with. To believe that he could matter to anyone enough.

Tina’s stepmum had more foresight than he did, inviting him along to her and Tina’s celebration dinner at a fancy restaurant out of town, and he has to take a minute to cry in the bathroom after they proudly present him with a messily wrapped gift and a card that practically explodes with glitter when he open it, but he can’t even pretend to be annoyed because it has his name in it, and while he's trying very hard not to break down crying in public, Tina hugs him so tightly his spine creaks and tells him she couldn’t have wished for a better brother.

When they drop him off at home, his eyes are still red and a bit wet, he’s full of good food and affection, and he’s smiling like an idiot in spite of the fact that he can’t stop sniffling. The heavy sterling silver magpie skull charm rests against his collarbone, the weight comforting in a way he can’t hope to put into words. He'll never forget Tina’s dewy, smiling eyes as she clasped it around his neck and told him proudly, “Now you’ve got two.'"

He falls into bed holding the charm, reluctant to take it off, but knowing he should put it somewhere safe before bed. He exhales a happy sigh, laughing a bit wetly to himself.

And then his phone vibrates in the pocket of his slacks, and his heart seizes in his chest.

He doesn’t have to check the ID to know who it is. Nobody ever calls him, and his eyes flicker anxiously to the pressed dress in its plastic garment bag still hanging untouched on the back of his closet door. He’d given Tina the expensive name-brand heels for her own graduation outfit, because even if he did want them, he couldn’t walk in the damn things anyway. Lucky for him, they wear the same size shoe.

He takes a moment to calm his breathing, but that means he has to fumble to answer the call before it ends, and he winces when he sees two more missed calls in his log. “Mum!” he blurts, his voice instinctively pitching higher. “Hi! How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she tells him easily. “I’m sorry again I couldn’t make it today. There was  a—”

“A big project, I know,” he finishes. It’s always a project, or a trip, or a meeting. The details are always scant, but Mum knows how to make it sound big and important and in need of her attention. He’s tried not to be bitter about it, but there’s always been a part of him that wishes, for once, she’d decide he was important enough to need her attention. “It’s okay, Mum.” It’s not, it never was, but it would be selfish of him to tell her that. She’s got enough to worry about.

“Well, I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten, so I had a gift delivered. It should have arrived today.”

He bites back a sigh. He wonders if it would be easier if she had just forgotten. If it would hurt less than knowing she always made the decision not to see him. “Oh, I’ll go check!” he blurts, trying to inject as much enthusiasm into his voice as possible. He rolls out of bed and heads for the door, poking out to check the mailbox. Of course, inside there is a slim, rectangular package, wrapped in tidy brown paper. The address and names are printed on stickers.

He takes it inside with the phone tucked against his shoulder, weighing the box in his hands. It’s light, and he wants to be excited about whatever it is, but he’s suddenly drained from the day, from crying and laughing and crying some more.

The dining room, somehow, has always felt more lonely than anywhere else in the house, and he’s never been able to figure out why, but he puts the package on the table and starts picking at the neat wrapping. Mum is quiet on the other end of the phone, waiting, and Juni wants to break the odd silence, but can’t even begin to think of what to say. He wishes he didn’t bite his nails, because it takes him way too long to break into the pristine paper, and inside is a long red jewelry box. When he lifts the lid, there is a delicate gold necklace resting on a soft velvet pad, understated and objectively lovely, if not really his style, but it’s the note that flutters out of the box that catches his attention. His eyes skim the note, expecting her usual platitudes that he sometimes wonders if she has someone else type for her.

I am so proud of the woman you’ve become.

His breath leaves him in a painful, strangled rush, his lungs squeezing tight in his chest. And before Mum can speak, he blurts "I can't take this," trailed by a ragged sob.

“Of course you can,” she says gently, kindly. “I know how you get about expensive gifts, but really, it’s no trouble—”

His head fills with screaming static when she calls him what she’s always called him, what she doesn’t know better than to call him, because he’s never told her. He’s never had the chance, it’s never been the right time, it felt wrong not to do it in person, but whenever he sees her in person he feels like he shouldn’t waste the time with her by bringing up something so…

“My name is Juniper!” It explodes out of him, louder than he’s ever been with her, and it stuns her into silence. “I’m not your daughter!” he cries desperately, “I’m your son. You can’t be proud of the woman I’ve become, because I’m not a woman!” He sounds insane, he knows he does, shrill and frantic, but his heart is hammering so hard he feels dizzy, the walls are yawning wide around him, the dining room feels huge and so empty and so bleak. He’s never felt more alone in this dark, quiet house he’s spent his entire life rattling around in than he does in this exact moment, and it’s suffocating. His phone drops from shaking fingers onto the floor, and he drops with it, curling into a ball and struggling to remember how to breathe, dizzily hoping he won’t need to go scrambling for his inhaler. His fingers clench so tightly around the heavy silver charm he’s almost worried he’s going to snap the simple leather cord, but he needs to ground himself or he feels like he’ll dissolve entirely.

He hears Mum calling the name that’s not his, and when he finally manages to fumble his phone with nerveless fingers, he winces seeing the screen is cracked. “I’m sorry,” he sobs weakly, his eyes burning with tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He can’t even be sure what he’s apologizing for, but he knows he has to, especially when he slams the end call button and buries his face in his knees so he can cry alone in the dark.

                              Seven for a secret, never to be told.

Juni’s skin is starting to get clammy, but he’s too comfortable to move. Eventually, he’s going to have to, if for nothing else than to get up and get cleaned up, but for now, he’s happy, if a little chilly. He nuzzles into the soft curls dusted across Mason’s chest, and lets his eyelids fall to half-mast, just open enough to absently count the freckles hidden under the chest hair, inevitably lose count, and start counting again. Mason smells good, cooling sweat and sandalwood, and dozy as he is, it takes a moment for Juni to realize he doesn’t really smell like smoke at all anymore. His room doesn’t smell lke smoke, either, he realizes. His heart thuds hard behind his ribs.

He gets distracted when a shiver rolls over him, the chill suddenly overwhelming against his sticky skin, and he curls further into Mason’s chest in an attempt to leach some of his warmth.

Mason clicks his tongue, and Juni’s whole body stiffens, worry zinging into his gut to rattle around there like a bird in a too-small cage. Mason shifts underneath him, and he starts to roll away, to apologize, to get out of his hair, before a strong hand clasps the back of his neck.

“Hold still,” Mason grunts, sitting up and patting around for the edge of the blanket. He pulls it out from under them both, which almost sends the detective rolling off the bed against his will this time, but Mason's hand shifts down to spread across his lower back and hold him steady until he can get them both tucked underneath.

He flops back against the pillows again, one arm tucked under his head and the other loose at his side, and slowly, cautiously, Juni crawls his way under it. The hand lands  on his hip and squeezes, and Juni settles his head back on the vampire’s chest just in time to hear the pleased little rumble there. He flushes down to his chest and bites his lip, distracting himself by petting at Mason’s chest hair.

And then he pokes his flat, brown nipple and says, “Boop!” on some stupid impulse, and giggles like an idiot.

Mason scoffs and rolls his eyes, but shifts so that Juni’s thigh hitches up over his. “Keep that up, sweetheart, and we’ll be going into round two sooner rather than later.” Juni can feel the truth in that statement against his thigh, and he blushes so hotly he knows Mason can feel it at every point their bodies are touching. He might be approaching supernova levels of heat when Mason smugly adds, “Well, round two for me. Three for you.”

He hides his face in Mason’s chest with a long groan. “I’m going to explode,” he declares. “I’m going to collapse like a dying star.”

Mason laughs, sharp and startled and shockingly bright, and Juni’s head shoots up so he can see his face. His hair is a mess, but of course it still looks amazing, hanging around his face in loose, sweat-damp spirals. His vulpine grey eyes are crinkling at the corners, even his sharp nose wrinkling in a way that makes Juni’s heart almost stop. And his mouth, usually either pinned into a scowl, or twisted into a sly (and stupidly attractive) smirk,  is curled into a smile, breathtaking in its open softness.

God, I love you, Juni wants to cry, his heart pounding in counterpoint to the desperate, silent declaration he traps behind his teeth by digging them into his lower lip so hard he’s almost afraid he’s going to make himself bleed. And it doesn’t stop. I love you, I love you, I love you drums in his chest, hums through his blood, and when Mason catches him looking, he reaches out to push the tangled forelock of curls hanging in Juni’s eyes out of his face, cupping his cheek to pull him into a kiss. Juni shivers and braces his hand on Mason’s chest, feeling the vampire’s heart thumping there, steady and stable and achingly familiar. His own matches it beat for beat, and thankfully his mouth is too occupied for the pulsing plea of love me, love me, please love me to spill out. So he dives into it, clings to it, and when Mason breaks away to let him breathe, Juni buries his mouth against the arch of his throat instead, presses messy kisses to his collarbones, his chest, his shoulders, throttles the words before they can escape him and pushes them into touches instead. Touches can’t damn him the way words can.

There’s a soft, shameful part of him he ignores like he always has that whispers to him that maybe, just maybe, if he pours enough of himself into every kiss, every touch, that the words will finally be understood. That the weak little part of him he buries deeper and deeper every time it cries out will finally be seen, and answered, and cradled tenderly in someone’s strong, freckled hands.

But until then, it will sit there in his chest under lock and key and ache, like all his secrets do.

[jae-canikeepyou]

| muse | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: art student!jaehyun + art student!yn

a/n: thought this on a whim whilst reminiscing my art portfolio, so we’ll see how you’ll like this with yuno in it. not the best i’ve written but hope you enjoy reading 💞😉 ~j

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with jaehyun, there were three things that happened uncontrollably. one was he caused your heart to skip; two, your chest to feel all giddy; and three, your stomach to capsize. why you may ask? it was his very presence in the art academy which had heads turning and lips to whisper words of awe. he was labelled and called a prodigy.

be it in any medium of art, he was blessed to have such a talent that his parents thought it’d be a waste if not enhanced or put attention to. even your professors favored him and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t jealous. despite his princely looks, he could sometimes be a total snob. he’d be in a good mood the first hour and then changed completely in the next. oh the duality, you couldn’t understand him at all.

though question marks continued to fill your head, let’s just say you had a tad advantage compared to girls who were overly thirsting for him; he was your classmate, a major in fine arts. sometimes you unconsciously found yourself sniffing his perfume each time he helped you with the shading of portrait drawings you worked upon. he was that close. as much as you loved seeing him almost every day, you hated at the fact you still didn’t know the ways to calm your loving facial expression towards him.

it was a funny sight —at least to your friends— that they could see how elongated your nose grew every time you deny your feelings for him. yet as time passed the possibility of your admiration might turn into romantic feelings instead. there wasn’t a need to prove to you since your friends have pointed it out already.

but you yourself wasn’t too sure about it.

“please,” hyejin popped with a huge round of an eyeroll at your oblivion. legs crossed as she chewed her bubblegum. “y/n, admit that you like him. it isn’t that hard to say out loud.”

other students, including your studio tutor held in their giggles in the midst of the silence within the room. true enough hyejin was the mood maker.

her words made you stop painting the colours that were meant to accentuate the highlights of the subject. “i’m not like you who’s very expressive in words.” you replied, taking few peeks at your surroundings in case anyone eavesdrop.

hyejin wasn’t supposed to be in the studio today. she was a literature student where writing poetry was her forte. but because your tutor appreciated her effort to promote the visual arts department in the school paper, her going to the studio with you became a normal thing.

“it doesn’t have to be in words. like, i don’t know? paint some canvas and pour out your feelings through colours? yellow’s joy or purple’s dazzling or red is love-” she stopped as you gave her an annoyed gaze. “i’m sure he’ll get it. he’s not called a prodigy for nothing.”

“painting is not done on a whim, hyejin.” you emphasised, not noticing the stress put upon your work. “it takes time and thinking and creativ-”

“yeah yeah,” she made her bubble burst, which by the way irritated you since it gave off the impression that she wasn’t listening to you at all. “abstract seems so random though. no thinking there.”

you pointed the brush at her, yet careful enough that it doesn’t touch her nose. if another word comes from her mouth, you wouldn’t hesitate staining it. “sis, shapes are used instead of virtual reality, so abstract still needs thinking. you just express it differently.” hearing this, hyejin paused for a while before deciding which reaction to give, and with that you were satisfied into silencing her for a while. “now you know how i feel when i don’t understand shakespeare’s ‘love looks not with eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged cupid painted blind’.”

she let out a scoff, “pfft, you’re the cupid in that quote. you can’t even see that you like mr. prodigy so much.”

jaehyun gently opened the door and handed a paper slip to the tutor, which apparently was a doctor’s certificate. due to his arrival, hyejin elbowed you so hard that its force caused you to jolt in your seat then knocking two of the glassed jars placed on the narrow deck of your easel.

the tutor looked at your direction, and lowered his specs at the noise. flustered than you ever were in your entire life, you took the dust pan. you tried your best to not match eyes with jaehyun who was now smiling from second hand embarrassment. at farthest decibel your ears could handle, you could hear hyejin sneering with huffed laughs.

“i’m gonna kill you.” you mouthed from a table away and gave her a warning look. you gestured the phrase, followed by a scowl to refer her teasing tongue.

“i’ll help, y/n.” jaehyun offered, but you assured him it was fine. “what’re you working on?” he asked as you both walked back to the tables, he took out his tools and unfinished work.

this time was the season of cramming hours into a tight schedule, there were many initial stages/assignments due and portfolios to be completed. you guessed it was natural for you both to update each other regarding progress. “just giving more highlights and tweaks, then i’ll start on the portraits.”

he only pressed a smile, a breathy chuckle as a response while he focused on his art. “do you still need my help on shading?”

“i think i got the hang of it. thanks.” you damped the brush with water.

“alright, if you need me, i’m just here.”

your eyes shot down to your pockets, quickly answering the phone to quiet down the “supposedly” soundless vibration. and you wished you didn’t fished out the device if you knew that the message was from hyejin.

[18:45] hyejin: damn it y/n, confess already! 🤪

[18:45] you: if you could shut up maybe i will?? i could hear your voice haunting me 🙃

[18:46] hyejin: if there’s no progress today, i’m so gonna take action & tell him myself 😌

[18:47] you: ugh anything but that pls 😣

the thing with being associated with the arts was that time immediately had gone passed when you’re so concentrated. everything else faded away and in that momentum, it was just the art and you. jaehyun felt this once he picked up his brush or pencil. voices in his head whispered and guided him what to do with the creativity still yet to be shown in the world.

among all the students he bonded with, there was one whom perked his interest..

you.

as mentioned, his current surroundings blurred whilst he was sucked into another dimension of concentration. but you went there with him and appeared clear. seemed a scene out of an alternate reality in his perspective, or dramatic to some people. he was intrigued.

since knowing you, he expected to sought this mutual interest deeper. if he was the beautiful, detailed canvas everyone saw in an exhibition, you were the opposite; abstract, unpredictable and rough, someone who was overlooked because others couldn’t understand the depths and entirety of you.

finishing the last layer of the painting, you stretched to sooth the numbness. the professor reminded about the last few minutes before wrapping up the class and, he handed the room keys to you. for this tutorial, students have the choice to stay behind or leave. hyejin left with the others, leaving you alone with jaehyun. whether she did that on purpose, she’d do anything to let you be alone with him.

“oh? you’re done with yours?” jaehyun shifted sideways to take a better view of your work. he looked satisfied with the way his dimples hollowed. “hm. my advise is effective.”

“yeah, you’re a life saver.” you sighed as you looked at how completed the artwork was, then trailing your eyes to him again.

“i’m proud of you.” he winked, only to blush afterwards when his stomach growled. “i wish you didn’t hear that.”

coincidently, you tossed your wallet in the air. “good timing, i’m just about to head out to the cafeteria. want anything? my treat because you helped me.” you extolled with your mood in completely positivity. jaehyun became your inspiration and for now you weren’t able to bring yourself to tell him that.

hopefully soon though— when you have the courage.

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the sleepiness in your eyes only needed ten percent more to push your lids down, the queue was unexpectedly long at this hour. it was only until minutes later had you known that another department organised a party nearby. the wait for the order would be troublesome; that’d be in the fact there were girls right behind, their gaze burning into your skin as if you were an enemy of theirs. and somehow you knew,

they might be jaehyun’s admirers.

they whispered to each other, words audible enough for your hearing and you pretended to be listening to music.

and how you wished you should’ve.

“do you know why jaehyun took fine arts?” one asked.

an intrigued response caught you walking on a tight rope. this can’t be good. “sounds like you know the reason.”

“it’s been spreading around recently..” there was a pause that had you wondering even if you knew you shouldn’t believe in any of rumours from them. “i heard the studio has this session to draw the human body and the figures. like y’know.. no clothes?”

sigh, there wasn’t even any classes for those this semester, you thought.

few giggles were heard before they spoke again. “you’re saying he’s perverted?”

“maybe? i wouldn’t be surprised if it were true.”

“isn’t that kinda hot? his eyes starting into-”

you nearly dropped jaehyun’s food and trip over an extension wire hearing that. breathing slowly and steadily, you convinced yourself that what you heard was false. he wasn’t the type of guy they assumed he was.

as much as you wanted to prove them wrong, it wasn’t your place to speak out when the friendship you have with him was not to the level of best friends. so you rushed back to the studio, not noticing your blown-away hair and burning face. what was amusing after hearing the tea, you didn’t know why you reacted in that manner. did you leave because you couldn’t stand eavesdropping any longer? or did you run due to the fact the fantasies they had were about to enter your mind?

the door was opened with a force that jaehyun looked up from his work, smiling at your quick purchase. “whoa careful there. you didn’t have to run.” he chuckled and went to your table. he took his favourite spicy cake and placed it on top heavily. the force he exerted with his hands was the total opposite to when he dealt with art. somewhere in you, you’d say it was a 0.1 percent a turn-off.

“hey, it’s food. handle with care, it’s a blessing.” you said, munching on your share of the dishes.

jaehyun clasped his palms together, bowed his head and closed his eyes. he faced you and you sat there with a confused look. “thank you y/n, you’re an angel for treating me.”

soon after, you received a message from your professor about taking out some of the tools needed for tomorrow. holding the sandwich wrap between your lips, you took a closer look at the right keys before unlocking the storage room, opening the door afterwards.

it was at least the size of two toilet cubicles, not even close to a room’s walk-in closet. the thin cabinets against both sides of the wall were two feet, and the remaining space in the middle could fit a person’s leg, stretched out. the new set of canvases were placed on the top shelf. for someone like you, it wasn’t possible to reach them on tiptoes. you grabbed a chair and stacked two tins of paint for your feet to stand upon.

if you still couldn’t reach them.. eh, bummer. disturbing jaehyun who was enjoying his meal would be rude. you weren’t that type of person to suddenly feel as if you were already close to someone. the icky and dusty feeling on your fingertips nearly had you gagging.

“jaehyun?” you called out, apparently you’ve given up in trying another attempt. “i need a hand.”

there was a long pause as to why he didn’t respond immediately. maybe you should’ve have disturbed him? but you soon rolled your eyes when a mannequin’s hand was thrown to you. his snickers was supposedly an adorable thing to hear, this kind of wasn’t, because you desperately needed help now. “jeong jaehyun!”

he hummed right after you mentioned his name the second time. “i’m just messing around. but does that mean you’ll treat me again? i helped you.” his voice sounding with excitement.

you nodded, your anger long forgotten but he could tell there was conflict in your head. “i’ll consider it, so help me before i smack you with this plastic hand.” your tone slightly straining since you didn’t feel him entering the room.

“yeah. coming.” he said, giggling at your impatience. as you tried to reach out for the canvases again, the light behind you slowly dimmed.

that was weird. “hey, it’s getting dark in here.” you said.

before he could say anything, the door slowly closed and that made you raise a brow. he noticed this too and looked into your eyes when the light within the room soon disappeared. “ah sorry, i must’ve kicked the door stopper.” even in the dark, you could tell he was flustered from his actions. “i’ll open it.”

however his groans and vigorous sounds from the door knob stated otherwise. “what?” you heard him raise his voice.

“what’s wrong?” you hopped off the tins and grabbed the knob, twisting it clockwise then anti-clockwise. “it’s jammed.”

you both panicked because the night wasn’t getting any younger. there were things to finish and deadlines were drawing closer. before, you thought of procrastinating even when necessary. but procrastinating like this wasn’t part of the plan.

how was it possible for the knob to be jammed? the door wasn’t closed in an impact that would cause its components to be broken. sure jaehyun was reckless and couldn’t control his strength but that really wasn’t the issue here.

the actual issue was that you were going be stuck with him for who knows until when. stuck in a sense there were just enough space for two people. jaehyun fumbled his pockets in search of his phone, an annoyed groan told you it was bad news. “call someone. my battery just died and my powerbank’s outside.”

quickly you fished out your phone, only to find that it had the same fate. “ugh i have 10% left.” you slumped your sides to the shelves like there was no hope. “i’ll try to text hyejin.”

“hm i hope she’s not too far from the campus.” jaehyun leaned against the shelves opposite from you, his expression definitely amused with your reaction. a scoff of disbelief escaped your dry lips, sliding the phone to the shelf as you put your hair on one side. “that doesn’t sound good. what did she say?”

for all the things hyejin could do to help you get out of there, she’d rather sit and tease every single nerve of your body. “she said ‘you both just made your own seven minutes in heaven! i’m laughing out loud right now.’”

and for the things you thought jaehyun would disagree with your friend, he didn’t. it surprised you when his held-in giggles came bursting out from his chest. “it’s exciting. don’t you think?” he chuckled. “this is something you see in movies.”

“okay. tell me, what’s exciting about being locked-”

“we can ask each other questions. or any topic you’d like to talk about. i wanna know more about you.” he suggested, shutting you up because if he didn’t, you’d be quite a complainer. jaehyun bent to a squat, later stretching his legs until the soles reached the sides of your hips. “i rarely get the chance to talk to you properly and i guess this is the day, so scoot over.” he gestured you to move aside a little.

“gee i wonder why?” your voice came out sarcastically. “i don’t ignore people unlike a certain someone.”

“just sit down, will you?” jaehyun seemed to take the fact to heart.

you complied and sat exact the same as he did. the tiled floor sent cool to your legs but it didn’t really matter. jaehyun began by asking how you got into art; what motivated you to choose this field. “it’s just a childhood dream of mine to keep expanding my creativity. i wanna teach kids the joy in paint, that we’re not limited to using tools. i started painting with my hands and fingers when i was five.”

“really? i’m the same, except i was three when i painted.” his dimples deepening.

though you did answer him, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the whole story. you were just par in the arts, an average joe and always felt like your professors tied your wings together to express what you really wanted. every proposal you presented were rejected. if lucky, it still wasn’t good enough. not enough to reach jaehyun’s standards and world.

his shoes hit your hips again, the nudges were light and made you look to him. “your turn.” he said.

your eyes wander the dark room, the thin light from the sides of the door showing the outline of his face. “is it good? being called something you never wanted to be? did you know you’re gifted as a kid?”

“do you want my honest opinion?” he brought one leg to his chest, forearm resting on it as he start to ponder. hearing the soft shuffles from you in agreement, he gulped his dry throat to say the one thing he longed to say.

“i don’t like it.”

beyond speechless. you thought maybe he’d like the feeling of being center of attraction, or praised to have a skill that was out of this world. while you’d like to know what it felt like, it already told you enough that he wouldn’t want to be referred to as a prodigy. “not even a single bit?” alarmed, you squinted your eyes and he shook his head.

“i used to like it at first.. now i don’t,” jaehyun admitted but his face had changed the moment you asked him the one thing he never wanted to look back. “..because i was set apart from kids my age and they view me differently, nor have they ever treated me like every kid in the block.“

he continued how parents would tell him he was ‘inspiring’ or ‘i wish i had a kid like you; dedicated, and talented’. the claim have made him proud, yet this caused insecurity to most of his friends, and they distanced themselves from him. what was once the same ground they stood upon, it had quaked the earth and caused a wide gap. jaehyun hated the feeling of isolation by the will of others. though he had tried many times to reach out to them..

the gap continued to widen.

“there’s not much of a difference now.” he whispered yet audible enough for you to hear. ”i still have less friends. countable with fingers.. on one hand.”

probably the reason why he looked like a snob then.

“i see. so am i?.. part of your ‘friends’?” he heard you ask when reality hits you that you shouldn’t have said your thoughts out loud. closing your eyes for a bit, you heard the shift in his weight, he didn’t answer right away. it was as if he was still finding the words.

but he sat right beside you. “you’re already one when we both entered this classroom. i had a hunch you’ll be one i’ll treasure.”

if anyone was told the way he did just now, it would definitely make them smile. that was his honest opinion and you couldn’t help but smile at his words. he seemed to notice this too and let out a chuckle that was always music to your ears. “should we try to open the door again?” you changed the topic to avoid the awkward smile creeping your face. your hands gripped the knob and jaehyun tugged the hems of your jeans.

“y/n, if you do it further we’ll be damned if hyejin couldn’t open from the outside.” he stood that he was already behind you. “i’m not stopping you from trying though.”

“f-fine.” you leaned against the door, soothing your legs that experienced paresthesia. jaehyun pat your head like he always did whenever you unintentionally embarrass yourself, be it art or not whatsoever. “i just can’t seem to stay still.” oh gosh i don’t know what i’d do if i’m alone with him.

“yeah clearly.” he shrugged.

you had a scowled face and glad he didn’t see it. “the place’s so cramped-” you continued, walking to the chair you once stood on, only to lose balance when the shelves you held for support gave in to collapse from the weight it carried. with weight, the whole furniture wobbled to fall.

in a split second you felt yourself being lifted off the ground, a strong arm wrapping around your frame and saw yourself at the opposing side of the room. jaehyun closed into you as he managed to stop the some items from falling. the entire body of the cabinet covered and trapped you both in a tight place. the furniture tilted right behind him. one small move, the items could injure two and he didn’t want to risk that.

he could feel your breath touch his shirt and with the way you held his clothes, you definitely didn’t see this coming. “are you okay?” he thought there was a possibility of squishing you.

“uncomfortable, but i’ll manage.. somehow.” you honestly replied because there was no point in lying to him.. physically speaking, he’d know what you feel since he himself was also in discomfort. anyway, with your answer, this marked the third silence as there was another one creating yet another gap in the conversation.

okay y/n. you told yourself. you made everything awkward than before. first was you asked whether you were friends, which you already were. second was your stupid and careless behaviour that led to the position you’re both in now.

“what about you?” you asked after seeing the huge frame towering over both of your bodies, mostly onto his. so maybe that was another unnecessary question to ask.

jaehyun gulped and fixed his one of his palms that he gripped on the shelf behind you. you could see his adam’s apple move up and down, struggling to breathe. he pushed backwards to be able to see your face. tilting his head down, that movement alone made you look up. “uncomfortable, but i’ll somehow manage.” he smiled even though you knew he wasn’t.

“you know you’ll earn zero marks if you copy my answer.” you giggled, remembering the professor’s words at the beginning of the semester.

he flicked your forehead as he agreed with the obvious statement. “i heard him. anyway, it’s my turn to ask.”

“are we really playing the game now? can we at least try to figure how to get out of this position?” you began to whine and threw your head back where you hit your head, and you didn’t care how shameful you felt. you knew you wouldn’t stand any longer, your legs started to weaken because of stress— stress from everything jaehyun managed to make you feel, that included the little smiles and especially his hand around your waist.

jaehyun didn’t know why he put his palms behind your head before the incident happened but he knew he had to, with the way you flustered so much. he figured that you weren’t used to situations like these.

however a memory slipped into his mind that you were always your usual self with other guys around. he noticed how you held or hiccuped a breath whenever you both conversed. you and him weren’t particularly close to begin with, just enough to pass as friends and maybe it was his love for art that brought that gap closer to you.

right now? perhaps too close. literally.

“why not? it gets more fun.” he tried to hide the smile creeping his lips; at the sight of how irritated you were beneath him and he actually considered your plead to get you both to safety. but maybe he’d like to enjoy a little bit before doing so. “besides, there’s no way we can move properly with a lot of things blocking our surroundings.”

on both sides, the two of you were encased with large items and materials that were affected by the impact. “tsk.” you tilted your head to avoid looking at him. “at least try to push the huge cabinet?”

he did as he was told and from the grunts and exhausted voice, jaehyun gave up trying. “i don’t think i can. something’s probably caught in the gap between the wall and the furniture.” he tried to look over his shoulder to see if he was right.

“i thought prodigies don’t give up.” your voice sounded challenging to him.

“within the spectrum of our skill, we don’t. but outside our gift, we have the choice to.” jaehyun flicked your forehead again. “we get tired too.”

there was less force against your torso, he was trying to push the furniture again and you bubbled out a giggle. “wow you aren’t as cool as i thought you were.”

jaehyun wanted to hit you as you were being too playful at the wrong time. but as he brought his hand up, you closed your eyes shut to brace for the sharp impact. he sighed and his stomach growled in the most embarrassing way yet. “ugh, it’s because i haven’t eaten enough. i don’t have any strength left.” his stomach then growled louder.

maybe it was due to your bodies against each other’s and the heat starting to roam around the room. jaehyun clicked his tongue at the continuous mimicking of yours. “c’mon y/n i can’t be the only one doing the work here. help me push this heavy thing behind me.”

“uh no? do you think i could even help? don’t make me uncomfortable than i’m already am.” you moaned at the pain starting to grow along your spine. arching your back to avoid the discomfort from the shelves wasn’t really a good idea.

“ah you’re uncomfortable?” he implored with a smirk, his voice quite menacing as he leaned in to squeeze you between the cabinet behind you and himself.

for the whole time jaehyun knew that you didn’t mean whatever you said. he loved how you surprise him everyday and tonight he found you quite cheeky, and adorable too. by quite, it meant that you were like a child wanting to go home. a huff from him felt like the gust of wind. “‘i don’t have any strength left’.” you copied his words. seeing his lips pout, it was alright to give in. “will you treat me food if i help?” you returned the question because you treated him.

“you’re lucky you’re cute.” he suddenly said, with a soft chuckle, you knew he was smiling. it had gotten you speechless that it was hard to tell whether he said knowingly or not. “we can buy what the other wants after we get out of here, okay?” his attempt to get the wood off him yet again failed.

you clapped your hands quite hyperactively and squealed as if he asked you out on a date. “oh yay! okay. i wouldn’t want to be rained on for another hour anyway.” you teased, in which he exhaled heavily from his nostrils.

“i’m not that sweaty.” he grumbled, almost vibrating with the exertion of his energy.

“just perspiring.” you added.

he hit your head with his, for sure you’ll have a prominent bruise and that would make you a victim for hyejin for the next few days. or tonight, if she would get you both out. “that’s the same meaning.”

it took less than two minutes to take the weight off his back. jaehyun saw everything in slow motion— he was falling backwards and you, frontwards. “whoa!” for a moment you thought you hit yourself on a wall. that was for a brief second before the impact was replaced by a warm hug.

you checked if he was okay, he became your safe fall and again he saved you when you didn’t ask for it. “i didn’t expect.. i’m sorry.” you pressed your lips realising you were in between his legs.

he hissed at the pain and sat tiredly on the floor, using all of the fabrics of his clothes to wipe the sweat. “it’s okay.” he patted your back.

“right.. this is awkward. i better get off..” you chuckled and dusted your clothes awkwardly but what he said next really caught you off guard.

“do you want to do it?” he queried, taking you back as your head shot up and hit his chin with your forehead.

you blinked several times. “d-do what?” is this another question i won’t be able to answer?

there was a shaky grip on your waist, your heart hammered and you were afraid that he would hear it. “y’know what i’m talking about.” he put the hair strands away so he would be able to see your face under the lines of slim light.

“i don’t?” you choked on your own saliva. what was he talking about?

jaehyun’s breath made you freeze on the spot, along sudden silence. he giggled softly. “such a waste, you even have a perfect body.”

then the conversation from the two girls at the cafeteria entered your mind right when you thought deep. hold on, the rumours can’t be true..

he stood up shortly, cornering you by the door and the lights revealed his eyes, smiling shyly. “you have perfect proportions.” as of now, you were a little nervous. you couldn’t process what you were hearing from your crush’s lips and looked away where you could see hyejin’s figure closing the studio’s door.

finally hyejin’s here. i have to tell him. “uh jaehyu-”

“can you be my model?” he held your hands.

oh shoot it is true?

“i need someone to pose for my next art portrait and you’re the only one i can ask.”

‘well aren’t you quite the deep thinker~’ you could imagine hyejin’s voice telling you off at the back of your mind. you shook your head and shut your eyes for her imaginary presence to go away, making you miss seeing jaehyun’s expression turn to a small pout.

suddenly you felt like your soul left your body. what were you thinking y/n?! erase the thought! cleanse your mind from what you heard from the girls!

now you stopped being an embarrassment, you looked at him. however, before you could answer, the door swung open, causing you both to fall over and adjust to the lights above you. hyejin looked down at the two of you, her bubblegum popping with brows raised. “girl, i texted you back and said i’m opening the door. didn’t you see- oh, did i come at the wrong time?”

jaehyun quickly got on his toes, ears turning red while you covered your face in embarrassment. “this is a misunderstanding hyejin!” he stuttered and fixed his collar. you dug for your phone to check the message, but it died long before.

she blew another bubble and popped. “mhm, i can see that.” she winked at the both of you and turned to leave.

“hyejin!” you whined and clung on her legs.

“i’m leaving!” she singsonged and shook her ankles like you were a bug. “i’m giving you more alone time with your muse!”

“oh my g- you!” you chased her down. “quiet!”

she laughed cheekily and managed to exit the studio, sticking out her tongue and pointed behind you. ‘walk home with him!’ hyejin mouthed, and you couldn’t be more annoyed with her because that was indeed true. what was once a wishful thinking became reality. she knew you more than you did yourself.

as you sighed heavily, it got you hitching a breath that jaehyun might’ve heard and saw the whole thing. you turned around and he was packing his stuff, yours included. the artworks were left untouched since you both would be back here tomorrow. he gave your bag and you chose to not talk because you didn’t have the audacity to do. “so, uh. what were you saying earlier?” you hoped he would forget what he just saw.

“oh y-yeah. lemme just-” he took a deep breath and looked into your eyes. “..rephrase it- wait i’m your muse?”

of course he wouldn’t forget, it just happened. damn you, hyejin! you slouched on a nearby chair and wore your hood. “i was hoping you wouldn’t find out so soon.”

“i’m flattered. thanks.” his dimples hollowed. “i was asking if you could be my reference for my next art piece..” he trailed off recalling that you declined. “..though you shook your head quickly than i thought.”

“huh i did?” your voice affirming. “oh gosh i think i did.. i’m sorry i was hearing hyejin in my head when you said that.”

jaehyun’s eyes widened when all he heard was pure honesty from you. “so will you do it for me?”

“as long as i wear clothes while at it.” you consented with your arms crossed and began to feel heat spread your whole body at the thought of the rumour.

walking along the hallway, only the sounds of shoes grazing the carpet echoed the area. you didn’t know what else to say. he brought you to the nearest convenient store where the campus’ one was closed at the hour. the food you bought turned cold and you couldn’t afford to get sick because of it.

he pulled the chair for you to sit on. “you heard them as well.” he placed his bag down. he was aware of the rumours found around and was shocked to know you knew them too. “they’re not true.”

you propped your chin as he went back to the topic. “i know.” you agreed to his words. “they don’t describe you at all.”

jaehyun sat comfortably, a smirk appearing. “me being your muse fits the description-”

this guy.. “please don’t bring that up.” you pleaded with hands clasped.

“i’m teasing.” he chuckled. “i don’t mind if you refuse want to be my model.” he said. “but i assure i’m not like other artists who paints their naked model. i have a better plan for you.”

he was trying to convince you into his world and you were slowly getting into it. “that’s like saying you really want me to.” you took your wallet and he followed suit.

“what’s wrong with wanting to paint my new muse?” he slid his chair closer to the table; closer so he could see your reactions to his honesty.

when he said that, you never turned away so fast in your life. your chest never thumped so loudly and your eyes fluttered while he continued to press onto his question. 

an assuring smile showed on your lips and he mirrored it, already knowing your response. “nope, nothing wrong at all.” you shyly accepted his request.

jaehyun then stood to get the orders, his fingers warning you that the late dinner would be on him. your heart experienced blossoms and giddiness you hoped it’d stay forever. who knows? maybe being each other’s muse could turn into something more after tonight.  

[samwrights]

Pining After You [hc]

Just some Haikyuu!! head cannons about my favorites pining after the object of their affection—you. I’m gonna limit myself to only one Seijoh 3rd year >_> instead, I’m just gonna make Makki’s super long bc love.

I might turn these into one shots. I’m planning a special series to be released for the entire month of May—let me know what you guys think!

Hanamaki;

Ya know, with my last head cannon, I had such a hard time writing for Makki and now that’s all I wanna do.

Cause THIS BOI is too easy-going, too cool, to ever be blunt and up front about his feelings for you. He can’t ruin his image by stumbling over a confession.

Definitely has been in love with you since your guys’ first year—all thanks to your laugh.

Every time he hears you, even if said laugh is occasionally broken with a gentle, genuine snort, Makki feels every single electrical pulse being sent into his nerve endings.

It was a huge part of the reason that he had started owning the class clown trope, cracking jokes with his peers and even the teachers even though that definitely was not kosher. But his almost dry, sarcastic sense of humor always seemed to be rewarded with the angelic gift that was your laughter.

But he doesn’t know how to talk to you. At all.

He tries really hard not to stare at you, or at least tries not to make it super obvious and fails considering you sit on the opposite ends of the classroom

Makki always has lunch in Mattun’s classroom just so he can freely talk about something you did in class that made him laugh or smile, even if it was something stupid like you dropped your pencil or you raised your hand to answer a question.

In your third year, Mattsun is tIRED of it all.

“Just go fucking confess your feelings, I swear to gOD, or I’ll tell her.”

“Dude no, I can’t she’s way outta my league.”

Did I mention Mattsun is over it? So over it that one day, instead of waiting for his best friend to come to his classroom for lunch, he decides to pay yours a visit.

Makki’s freaking out because the fCK was Mattsun walking over to your desk?!

“She’s coming to our tournament this weekend, so bring your A game.” Was all he said before leaving the poor wing spiker to drown in the blood rising up his neck.

You weren’t friends with anyone on the VBC, but you did actually end up at the tournament with a few friends.

Exhilarating was the only way to describe it, up until Seijoh’s loss to Karasuno.

After the team thanked the spectators for watching, you noticed all the third years crying, signifying the end of their careers.

“Thank you for inviting me to watch, Matsukawa. It was really fun.” You said politely, approaching them afterwards.

Mattsun shoves his best friend towards you, “actually, he wanted to invite you. He just didn’t know how.”

Makki.exe has stopped working. He’s too busy spluttering because he literally has no idea what to say to you now. Cool boy? Not even close.

“I’ve actually wanted to come to one of your matches for awhile. I just thought it was weird because I’m not friends with any of you.”

Oh. O H.

“Y-you could’ve asked me...”

“I was hoping you’d ask me. Why do you think I always laugh at your jokes, Hanamaki?”

“Wait, does that mean you don’t think I’m actually funny?” 💀💀💀 Rip.

“I do. You’re funny, talented, handsome, and I’ve liked you since first year.”

Makki.exe has stopped working.

Akaashi;

Akaashi has studied everything he could about you without ever having actually interacted with you.

He knew you were in Bokuto’s class, he knew your name, and that the two of you interacted often, but never outside of the classroom.

He knew that you always carried your school bag over your left shoulder, and tucked your hair behind your right ear when you felt it was in your face.

Your energy somehow matched his best friend’s while simultaneously calming the owl captain like a gentle wave. You reminded Akaashi of the sun rising over the ocean.

Bokuto, oblivious to nearly everything, never realized that his best friend’s calculations went beyond analyzing the ace. One small section of his brain was dedicated to your ass.

Really, there wasn’t anything extraordinary about you, or at least that’s how you felt about yourself. But every time Akaashi swung by Bokuto’s class to walk with him to practice, his eyes were immediately drawn to you for .067 seconds before he’d look away, so as not to make you feel uncomfortable.

Once in a while, Bokuto would let small details about you slip, like how you were in the art club and that you had a showcase coming up displaying the portfolio you had built over the last three years.

He definitely didn’t ditch practice to be there for your showcase.

Showing up to the venue where the showcase was being held, he suddenly felt very under dressed seeing other third years and teachers adorning formal attire while he showed up in black jeans and a grey button up.

Wandering around the venue, Akaashi looked for you or your artwork, his breath held in his lungs when he saw the arsenal of works displayed on large black boards with your name written elegantly at the very top. Made with various mediums, he was stunned by different paintings and drawings of surreal, exquisite landscapes that could not possibly exist.

Then again, he didn’t think you were real either.

One particular painting invoked a strange emotion in him—a large, desecrated shipwreck amongst of field of bright flowers with the sun setting in the back. Titled “Crack The Sky”, the piece emanated joy and grief in one. It was almost as stunning as you were.

“This one’s my favorite.” You announced sheepishly from beside him and he realized he had never heard your voice before. The setter turned to look at you, drinking in your appearance up close for the first time. “You’re Bokuto’s friend, aren’t you? Akaashi?”

He was kinda hurt to hear you mention Bokuto for reasons unknown to himself jealous much?

“Yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” He bows slightly, remember that no matter how infatuated he was with you, you were still his senpai.

He began walking with you as you explained the creation process of your different pieces. Not that he was actually paying attention, though he’d never admit that. He just liked hearing you talk and he would definitely never admit that.

You excuse yourself as your phone rings, though you don’t walk away, allowing him to hear your end of the conversation. “Yep, he’s here. I owe you dinner. You wanna talk to him?” Akaashi cocks a brow in your direction, staring at your cellphone that you’ve now held over to him. Bokuto’s name flashed on the screen.

“Uh, hi?” The setter asked, confused.

“I made a bet with her that you would ditch practice to go to her showcase because yOu LoVe HeR.”

Aight, imma head out.

Before he could run away out of embarrassment, you grabbed his wrist though you were still on the phone with Bokuto.

“Would you like to join us for dinner? Seems kinda unfair for him to get dinner when you’re the one who made the effort to be here.”

Akaashi graciously accepts to which you respond by telling Bokuto where you would meet him for the evening.

“So you love me, huh?” 💀💀💀 If Akaashi could magically disappear, he would. Or even better, if his blush ran hot enough to melt the skin off his face, that’d be great too.

But you never let go of his wrist until now, opting to wrap an arm around his instead.

“I like you too. Why do you think Bokuto and I made a bet about you coming here, silly?”

Kenma;

Poor Kenma. The worst part of his whole situation was actually being friends with you, knowing he would never get to have you.

Why would you want him, anyway? You were more fit for someone like Kuroo—someone who was as boisterous and confident as you were. He anticipated the day you two announced your relationship and left him behind in your little trio.

Not even Kuroo knew that he was in love with you and maybe that was a mistake on his part but he could never tell his best friend that you were his entire world. It was too embarrassing for him.

It took entirely too much energy to even sort through his feelings alone, how much more exhausting would it be for him to run through every single thing he felt about you to someone else?

Like the way you would nearly skip out your home every morning when the boys came to fetch you to walk to school together.

Or the way you unabashedly asked almost too personal of questions, or questions that were just soooo left field of you were friends with a person. “Hey Kuroo, how many brushes do you think you would break if you finally decided to brush your hair after 17 years?” Was one of Kenma’s favorites.

The way you sing along to every song that plays on your iPod or even the radio, even if you didn’t know the song, you would try to sing along anyway.

Some days, Kenma would look out the window and see you practicing some form of a dance routine in your backyard. He would watch you for hours until you went inside, suddenly feeling shame for being so creepy.

Nearly every night, Kenma just wished he could turn his feelings off while simultaneously wishing you were next to him so he could hold you while he slept.

Your smile was his favorite. Seeing you smile every morning as the three of you walked to school together was what got him through his day. “Hey, hey are you guys coming to my dance competition tomorrow?” You asked in your typical, jovial lilt.

“Of course.” Was all he was able to reply, while Kuroo enthusiastically responded about their attendance.

“Great! I can’t wait to see you guys in the crowd!”

The “C” word, was almost enough to make Kenna regret his decision to come. Even more so when he was surrounded by the masses, all waiting to watch their respective dance teams. But it was for you, and he would do anything for you.

Kuroo was right beside him, a small bouquet of roses in his hand to give to you after you competed. The blood red flowers made Kenna glower and glare in secret, or as secretive as he could be. “I got these for you.” The captain says quietly, handing them over to his best friend.

“Sorry, Kuroo, I can’t say I return your feelings—“

“For you to give to her, you idiot.” 🤡🤡🤡 “I’m not that dumb, Kenma.” The setter really wanted to argue and say that he was, but your school’s dance team was up to perform so he opted to stay quiet.

Have I mentioned that Kenma loves watching you dance? There was a reason he would watch you practice in your backyard. You moved with elegance and grace that was foreign and so opposite to his own demeanor, it was no wonder he was always so captivated by you.

After you compete, there’s a bit of downtime between the other competitors and the awards ceremony, giving you the chance to hang out with your besties.

“These are for you.” The second year says quietly, handing you the bouquet with a blush dusting over his cheeks. The red rivaled that of the roses.

“Aw, thank you, Kenma!” You squeaked out before giving him a kiss on the cheek, his skin burning even hotter. Kuroo’s just over there laughing but ya know.

During the awards ceremony, you’re sitting in a circle with your team not too far from your friends while they announced that Nekoma had taken first. Everyone in the dance troupe began screaming and hugging each other, while you ran straight to your boys.

While still jumping, you were hugging Kuroo so tight, arms squeezing around his neck while sharing the joy. Which made Kenma just a little bit jealous.

Just a little.

Until you’ve settled down from your jumping before wrapping your arms his neck as well. But rather than going for a hug—

Wait what is hAPOENING

You brought your lips to his briefly before burying your face into his neck out of embarrassment because wHY you had thought that was a good idea was beyond you.

Deciding you couldn’t just keep holding onto him, because he was probably embarrassed too, you stepped away, ready to run back to your team. But Kenma didn’t let go, his arms seated securely at your hips as he stared at you.

“I-I’m sorry, I-I don’t know w-w—“

“I love you.”

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[storysofmyown]

Single Father Lucifer AU, a drabble

Plot: Lucifer and his six children process as they move into their new house and Lucifer’s first meeting with Diavolo.

Note: I honestly don't know if i should call this a drabble, a an actual fic or anything like that. But...its not just the normal listing of headcanons so...enjoy???

The front door opened slowly; Lucifer fumbled with the keys as he took the first step inside the house. The room was quiet, the living room was spacious enough for the seven of them, Lucifer sighed while turning around to instruct the people that were moving their stuff where to put them, when a small child went running inside, making a lot of noise, giving the house a little taste of what it was about to go through for the upcoming years.

"I WANT THE BIGGER ROOM" Mammon screamed as he ran up the stairs to the second floor, ready to claim his room.

"It isn't fair! I have more stuff than him! I SHOULD GET THE BIGGER ROOM!" Leviathan ran after Mammon, his goldfish plushy in his hands as the child almost tripped on his way up stairs.

"Stop running inside the house!"

"We only just got here and those two are already running around." Satan fixed his glasses as he entered the room, positioning himself out of the way and looking at the new place that was going to be their home.Even though he was only 9 years old, he already acted more mature than his eldest brother.

"How tiring." Belphie said mid yawn, holding onto Beel’s shirt as not to fall over, who’s stomach only grumbled even while munching on a cookie.

"Well, I don't care about who gets the biggest room, I just want the prettiest one!" Asmo threw his hands in the air, loosing balance for a second and having to hold onto Lucifer's neck as not to fall, the man in question tightened his grip around his child, before moving out of the way and placing Asmodeus down.

Lucifer groaned, massaging his temples before turning and giving the moving crew instructions. He looked over at the four children standing there before sighing. This was going to be a tiring day.

"Why don't you go with your brothers? I'll be here making sure we brought everything, so why don't you guys go explore the house?" Belphegor and Asmodeus nodded before going upstairs were Levi and Mammon were fighting. Lucifer looked at the remaining children, Satan and Beel, who were looking up at him. "What is it?"

"Do you have the list?" Satan asked, smiling smugly at his father. Lucifer mentally cursed himself. He had forgotten the list back in their old house, now they wouldn't be able check what items had arrived. The man groaned before he heard the child laugh. "I knew you would forget it, here." Satan took a piece of paper out of his back pocket. It was wrinkled and the handwriting was messy, but he could read it. "I figured you might forget it, so I made my own!" Lucifer smiled fondly at the kid, who only went smiled and went upstairs with his other brothers. Beel remained beside Lucifer’s legs.

"Do you want another cookie Beel?"

"Yes! No, wait...I...I wanted to help with the boxes." Lucifer smiled at his child, before pinching his cheeks and nodding.

"Okay, let us see which boxes we can help carry. That way we can finish earlier." Beel nodded slowly. After a few hours of moving and opening boxes, finally they had everything inside. Lucifer paid the crew before making his way upstairs, the children were all huddled up in what he determined was going to be his room so that Mammon and Levi stopped fighting over it.

"Okay kids, who is staying each room? I need to know for when we unpack tomorrow."

"I want the one with the balcony!!!" Asmo chimed in, raising his hand, and jumping up and down in excitement. There were no objections raised, so he nodded, to which a small and happy "Yes!" Was heard.

"There is a room with some shelves, can I have that one? I can store my books in there." Lucifer nodded slowly; Satan gave a small smile before fixing his glasses again. Lucifer needed to remind Simeon to bring them before Monday.

"I want the biggest one then!" Leviathan pouted while hugging Henry, the goldfish, even tighter, bright eyes looking up at Lucifer, who glanced at Mammon to see he was about to protest.

"How about this, Levi, i will get this room since i need more space, and you get the second biggest room and Mammon, “Lucifer glanced at his oldest son. “you get the one next to mine because you are the older, okay?" Mammon grumbled for a moment before nodding.

"Well, since I'm the oldest it's only natural I get a room besides pop's, I'm basically the head of the family!" Mammon grinned while Levi just stuck out his tongue at his brother.

"What about you two? Which rooms will you be staying in?" Lucifer looked at the twins, Belphie had his head resting in Beel’s shoulder.

"We want to be in the same room." Beel spoke up, looking pleadingly at Lucifer, who raised an eyebrow.

"You sure? We have more space in this house, there is no need for you two to share a room anymore-"

"We don't mind." Belphie yawned. "We like sharing a room, right Beel?"Which got a nod from his twin.

"Fine, guess that leaves a room for visit or storage. Lucky us, I guess."

"Dad..."

"Yes Beel?"

"I’m hungry."

"There it is, I was wondering why it has taken so long for you to say it." Satan grinned lightly at his younger brother while Lucifer thought.

"Well, I was planning to go buy some groceries tomorrow. So how about we all go out to eat?" The kids cheered at the proposal, everyone except Levi who groaned at the idea of going out again.

"Didn't we pass a restaurant in our way here?"

"Yes, I believe we did, Asmodeus. Want to check it out?" The children all nodded excitedly.

The next couple of days had been... chaotic. School had yet started, and the kids were immensely bored, which meant they would constantly playing pranks on one another, causing problems, fighting and for Lucifer to lose his mind. He was supposed to start working in 3 days, and he was meant to visit the office that day for a quick tour.

And the way things were, he was sure he was not going to be able to go today at all. While he pondered what he should do, a knock came to the door. Asmo ran towards the door claiming he would answer as Lucifer rose to his feet, only to hear a excited gasp coming from his child. "Uncle Simeon!! Cousin Luke!!!" Asmo exclaimed, and the moment those words left his mouth, it was like the army of children had been summoned to the front door and tackled their uncle to the floor.

After a few exchanges and Simeon hugging the kids, those running with Luke upstairs who already seemed a little annoyed, Lucifer and Simeon sat to talk. A small conversation before Simeon reminded him of his visit.

“But anyway, shouldn't you be at the office right now?” Simeon raised an eyebrow, starring at Lucifer.

“Yes...i was supposed to, but i couldn't just leave the children alone and taking them with me was out of the question.” Lucifer lets out a deep sigh as he closes his eyes for a moment.

“Why do you think I’m here for?” Simeon smiled at the man. “I’ll watch over the kids. Now you go and give the boss a good first impression.” Simeon got up from the couch and proceeded to call the kids and say they will play a game. Lucifer looked at his watch, it was almost four pm, they had agreed to meet at 4:30. If he was fast, then he might just make it in time.

 And so, Lucifer started a race against the clock, after finishing taking a quick shower and putting his clothes on, he bid goodbye to the children before managing to get to the office with five minutes to spare. Lucifer sighed as he parked the car, his portfolio in hand as he thought about what awaited him in this new job. Because of the move and the kids expenses, he needed to find a well paying job thanks to Simeon and Silomon. And apparently the boss, Diavolo, as he told them to call him, was in desperate need for an assistant. So...Lucifer took the opportunity and moved across the country in order to give the kids a new begging...he hoped it was for the best.

Lucifer was in front of the receptionist, Barbatos as the man had presented himself, and now was waiting to be called in. He sat down while he waiting, not long after, a red haired man sat besides him, Lucifer greeted him and was planing to stay silent until the man spoke up.

“You must be here for the assistants job, right?” Lucifer looked at the man, taking in his features, he was good looking and around Lucifer’s age if not a bit older, Lucifer swallowed before nodding.

“Yes, i was informed to be here to meet with the boss in order to get a run down of how the building looked and how we would operate.” The man besides him hummed, a curious smile as he looked at Lucifer. 

“Well, if that's the case, i should probably warn you.” The man looked around, almost as if to make sure he isn't being heard. “Some people say the boss can be a bit...how do I put it... extravagant. Think you can handle that?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the man, was he trying to spread rumors? Whatever it was, Lucifer just shook his head.

“Even if that was the case, I wont mind. I’ve heard good things about this place and the boss and i...would like to be part of it.” Lucifer cleared his throat before giving the man a side smirk. “Besides...after dealing with my children all day i bet the boss cant be that bad.” He wasn't sure why he said that, but there was something inviting, almost enticing about the man sitting besides him. Normally he wouldn't give details about his personal life to those around him but he felt at ease with the stranger.

The man only smiled at Lucifer before getting up. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

“But what about-”

“Don’t worry about it, Barbatos will let us know when its time to head back.” The man pointed at Barbatos, who was acting as the current assistant until Lucifer started work next week. The man only nodded with a smile at both Lucifer and the man, and although hesitantly, Lucifer agreed to be shown around.

After walking around for what felt like almost an hour, the strange red haired man had shown Lucifer every corner of the building, all except from one. Lucifer was worried that by now he had been called and was not present but as they were heading to the last room they were to check, Barbatos only smiled at them, which Lucifer took as an indicator that he had not been called yet. So, Lucifer fallowed the taller man into the elevator which not long after came to a halt.

“And to wrap this up, this is the cafeteria. We didn't want for the workers to go hungry all day feeding off vending machines so the order was given to make this room into the workers dinning place.” Lucifer looked around, there were some workers eating and the smell of food made his way to him, reminding him of just how hungry he actually was.

“That’s...actually a good idea.” Lucifer smiled, trying to ignore his own stomach. He should have listened to Beel before leaving the house. without eating anything. He tried to hide it, though, it seemed like he didn't do such a good job for the man chuckled before inviting him to eat. “Oh no, wouldn't want to oppose any trouble. Plus, i really should go up and  wait to be called in.” 

“Awe, cmon on! I'm inviting, and i already told you, Barbatos will let us know.” Lucifer thought about it for a second, and decided to accept the mans invitation.

They sat down on one of the tables after getting something small, Lucifer asked the knowledgeable man more about the company and slowly the conversation turned into more casual talk.

“Wait, wait, wait, so you are telling me you have six children?!” The man looked at Lucifer with wide eyes but an amused smile. “How in the world did you even get any sleep when they were little?” Lucifer would chuckle at this.

“Oh...well i actually didn't get any sleep. But, my youngest is making up for my sleep. He sleeps enough for the entire family.” This would get another laugh from the man, before he glances at his watch, clears his throat and gets up.

“Well, i must say I had a good time meeting you like this. But i must attend some meetings.” The man offered Lucifer a hand, which he gladly shook. 

“Of course- oh, i dot believe i got your name” Lucifer looks at the man.

“Ah right. My name is Diavolo, i am eager to start working with you from this week on, Lucifer.” At the mention of the name Lucifer went pale...that was his new boss. This whole time he had been talking with his new boss and not once did he suspect of it. Diavolo only chuckled at Lucifer’s face. “You should get going. I wouldn't want to keep you from your children that long. Oh! And next time, why don't you invite?” 

With this, the man disappeared. leaving a shocked Lucifer behind feeling embarrassed. After the shock wore off, Lucifer got in his car and drove home, immediately being greeted by his children.

“Daddy!!” Asmodeus jumped on Lucifer, only for the other kids to do the same, making him almost fall.

“Hey, calm down. Let your father at least enter the home.” Simeon laughed, before looking at Lucifer. “So, did you meet the boss?” 

“I...did. Not in the most ideal circumstances but-”

“Oh, i take it he acted like a normal employer  and didn't say who he was until he had to leave?” Simeon smirked.

“You knew he did that? And didnt warn me?” Lucifer glares at Simeon, only for him to laugh.

“he instructed us not to tell anyone. Its his way of getting to know his employees before the whole “work place” relationship takes over.” Lucifer glared once more only to sigh.

“...thank you for looking after the kids.”

“Of course, whenever you need it. We love watching over them!” Simeon starts gathering his things.

“Not at all!” Luke chimes in, he walked in carrying Belphegor who Lucifer proceed to take from the child’s hands.

After Simeon and Luke left, Lucifer was left with his kids. It seemed that Simeon had them play some games for it wasnt yet past nine when all of them were already asleep. Lucifer took them all to their rooms before heading to his. Soon he would start work and the kids school would be opening as well. He really hoped everything went well, for his sake, and his children's as well.

Aighty dears! I hope y’all had enjoyed this...drabble/fic? Whatever, not sure if ill write more like this for this AU but we will see! Also, for those awaiting the scarred chapter 13, i made some progress with it, finally TwT! It is not completed yet but id say half of it its done so...yay! :3 I hope yall liked this, and yknow...stay safe people!!