#this has been sitting in my draft for ages and i finally had energy to color smth

[nireey]

His pretty flower🌹

[3rachaslut]

LEE KNOW X FEM READER

ENEMIES TO ???

cw: SMUT. MINORS DNI !!! hair pulling, marking, name calling (slut etc), dominant lee know kinda. that’s about it

a/n: this has been in my drafts for about 9 months and i’ve finally finished it lmao. it’s still kinda mid hehe

“Pleaseee come tonight y/n, the boys haven’t seen you in ages and they really miss you!” Felix whines with an over exaggerated pout on his lips. He knew his doe eyes have such an affect on you and he used it to his advantage way too often, but they were NOT getting the better of you this time..

“Felix, I’ve already said.. NO! I would rather drag my bare pussy lips across burning hot concrete than spend 10 minutes in Lee Know’s presence.”

Felix looks absolutely repulsed at your statement, and you shoot him a sarcastic smile. “Are you satisfied with that answer?”

Felix shakes his head, still with a look of pure disgust on his face.

“Pleaseeee y/nnn? I’ll buy you that hoodie you really want?”

“Urgh fine, but I hope you know that I’m not even looking at him, let alone speaking to him!” you say, rolling your eyes and shuffling towards your room to get dressed.

“I hope you know how much I love you doing this?” You shout at felix as you leave the room.

“Love you too bestie.”

“Urgh.”

——

You and Felix arrive at the dorms with a bottle of gin in one hand and sleep over bag in the other.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin shouts at the sight of you, clearly already intoxicated. He practically jumps off the sofa and makes his way to you, making grabby hands and you couldn’t help but smile fondly.

“Hi Hyunjinnie!” You hugged him tightly and over his shoulder you saw Lee know looking your way. You had tried your hardest to avoid Lee Know for the longest time, so seeing him look at you had you feeling sick. You quickly close your eyes again and lean further into the hug, smiling fondly into Hyunjin’s shoulder, trying to ignore the burn on your skin from the feeling of his eyes on you.

“It’s been tooooo long” Hyunjin sings down your ear, swaying you both side to side and you almost lose your balance.

“I knowwwww” You sang back. Even though you were 100% sober and he certainly wasn’t, his energy had always been contagious. He pulls away from the embrace and grabs your hand, pulling you towards the living room.

“You want a drink y/n?” Felix calls from the kitchen.

“Yes please!” you shout back.

“I’ll help you Lix” Lee know says, lifting himself off the couch and into the kitchen. You make your way over to the sofa where the rest of the boys were, making yourself comfortable next to Han. The familiar scent of his cologne making you feel more at ease. You and Han had been friends for quite a few years. You both met through Felix, who’d you’d been friends with since primary school and you’d been inseparable ever since.

“So… on a scale from one to 10, how awkward are you feeling being within a 5 mile radius of Mr Lee Know, your arch nemesis?” Han jokes, miming a mic in your direction and you stare at him deadpan, narrowing your eyes and he lets out a slight chuckle at your wordless reply.

“Here.” You and Han look up to see Lee Know holding a drink in his hand, offering it in your direction. His face shows no sign of emotion and you were trying to work out why.

“What have you done to it?” You bark, eyes narrowing as you scan his face for any cracks in his stand-offish demeanour but again, nothing.

“I haven’t done anything to it.” He leans in closer to you, your faces now at the same height. “Do you want it or not?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in a daring manner. You snatch the drink from his hand and he makes himself comfortable next to you, your knees barely touching. He was clearly challenging you. Prick. You shoot a panicked glance at Han who only makes things worse by holding in a laugh at your discomfort and you audibly sigh. You didn’t want to make a scene and sit elsewhere but you also didn’t want to have to sit next to HIM.

“Correction, 5 millimetre radius” Han whispers, snickering under his breath.

“You’re dead to me” you reply in a hushed voice.

“Okayyyy everyoneee” Changbin practically shouted. “Sit in a circle. We are playing truth or dareeee!”

“No! No!” Chan interrupts, shaking his head. “Do you not remember how it ended last time?”

“Yeah, well, there’s no fire pit this time CHAN!” Jeongin bites back at his comment, clearly eager to play and Chans eyes widen at the loss of honourifics.

“Okay, oldest goes first. Channie hyung, truth or dare?” Hyunjin says, raising his eyebrows.

“Nope, I’m not playing. I’m not encouraging this type of behaviour, not after last time. It’s only going to end in tears again. Literally” Chan refuses, grabbing his drink and taking a swig.

“Urgh fine… Leeee Knowww” Han pipes up. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare”.

Han looks at you with a mischievous look on his face and oh god, you knew where this is going. You widen your eyes and furiously shake your head but he turns back to look at Lee Know with a smirk on his face. “I dare you… to make out with y/n”.

The room fell silent. So silent you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. You all sit in uncomfortable silent for a few moments until you can’t take it anymore.

“I’m getting another drink” you stutter as you haul yourself up off the floor and into the kitchen.

“Are you fucking stupid?!” you faintly hear Seungmin whisper to Han as you walk towards the kitchen. As you pour yourself another drink, you can’t stop replaying Han’s dare. You shake your head, trying to rid the words from your mind. Suddenly you hear footsteps approaching.

“You don’t want a kiss then?” You hear from behind you and you drop your head in annoyance. You turn round to see a smirking Lee Know and you scowl in displeasure at his presence.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” you raise your voice slightly but not loud enough to bring attention from the others.

“Because I like annoying you. Plus.. you’re so sexy when you’re mad” Lee Know commented, stepping closer to you and looking you up and down, chuckling.

“Shut up” you roll your eyes, attempting to sound threatening, but sounding like a nervous child instead. Your face burns in embarrassment and shyness at Lee Knows comment.

“Why do you even hate me anyway?”

closer

“Because you’re a dickhead who is so stuck up his own ass that you’re a burden to be around. You try and manipulate everyone around you so you get your own way.”

closer

“You might think you can control the boys Lee Know but you can’t control me.” At this point, Lee Know was only inches away from you and you felt your heartbeat getting faster and faster as the gap between you both grew closer. His arms find your waist and your breathing hitches in your throat. Every fibre of your being is screaming at you to tell him to get off you. But… you didn’t want him to. Why?

“No?” He tilts his head as his eyes boar into you. “I think you’d be quite an easy girl to control y/n” He smirks and your eyes widen at his suggestive comment, your cheeks burning crimson. Suddenly, you feel a hand run up your back and a harsh tug on your hair causes your head to jolt upwards. You let out an involuntary moan and Lee Know leans in so close to you, you can feel his breath on your neck that sends shivers up your spine.

“See… Easy” He chuckles down your ear.

“Fuck you” you spit out, although you couldn’t quite hide the slight moan that came from your throat. Every part of your being wanted to push him off, rush over to Han and slap him as hard as humanly possible. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny how badly you wanted him. Why though? Why all of a sudden did you want him so bad?

“I still haven’t done my dare yet doll..” You hear him tease and your brain is screaming at you that you hate him! You despise him with every cell of your being! but…

“Please..” You speak without thinking and your breath gets caught in your throat at the realisation of what you had just said.

“Please what doll?” he whispers into your ear and your head was spinning. You whine in response, too confused about the situation to form a coherent sentence. What was happening to you? You absolutely weren’t sure and you were convinced you were dreaming.

“Just..” You mewl. Even you didn’t know what you were begging for but your mind was long gone, revelling in the feeling of your hair firm in his hand. “Please”.

You hear Lee Know chuckle above you and soon enough he is leaning into you, pressing wet kisses all up your neck, quickly finding your sweet spot. You were a whimpering mess and Lee Know was clearly proud of the state he’d put you in, watching your eyes begin to roll back in your head. He makes his way from your neck up along your jaw, releasing the grip on your hair and instead hooking his finger under the shoulder strap of your dress.

“What’s happening?” you say, not necessarily directing the question at Lee Know, rather just speaking out loud. “You hate me?”. You utter as your eyebrows furrow and a slight frown becomes apparent on your face.

“I really don’t y/n…” Lee Know replied, sincerity coating his words. “And I don’t think you hate me anywhere near as much as you let on”

It’s funny because you thought you did. You thought he was the bane of your existence, a thorn in your side, a self obsessed prick. But right now, you realise.. maybe it was just a facade. If you were being honest with yourself, you had forgotten why you ‘despised’ him in the first place.

“Kiss me?” you blurt out, surprising yourself with your confident tone. You see a smile creep over Lee Know’s face and he presses a long, gentle but firm kiss onto your lips. He goes to pull away but you deepen the kiss, grabbing hold of the back of his neck with one hand and pulling him closer with your other.

Lee Knows hands began to roam your waist and back, his hands never settling, as if he wanted to feel all of you all at once. You moan at his touch and he takes that as a sign to reach under your dress to gently grope your ass.

“Want you..” you say breathlessly. “Now..”

Lee Know steps back to look at you, your face flushed and desperate eyes roaming his beautiful features. He breathes a sigh of relief, as if he’s been waiting for those words to leave your mouth for a long time.

“Say it again doll” He speaks softly but sensually, as if asking for official confirmation.

“I want you Lee Know..ple-“ before you even get to finish your sentence, you’re being dragged out of the kitchen and into one of the bedrooms in the dorm.

He quickly threw you onto the bed in a second and Lee Know swiftly makes his way over the top of your figure.

“God, the things I’ve been wanting to do to you” He says as he looks you up and down, taking in all of you. “Wanted to ruin you for so long.” He emphasises his statement by forcefully yanking up your dress, your lace panties now on full display. You throw your head back in anticipation of what’s to come. “Look at me doll”. Lee Know orders and you instantly obey, your eyes full of desperation.

“Please touch me, please” You beg and you didn’t have to ask him twice. Instantly, his fingers begin to trace the shapes of your legs, starting from your calf and then up towards your knee. You let out a sigh of relief at the minimal sensation but soon, his lips began softly kissing the bend underneath your knee and you nearly melt into the bed below you. He trailed kisses upwards onto your thigh as you let out breathless moans. You hear him snigger at your reaction and with that, he begins to suck a red mark onto your leg. You wince at the sudden pain but couldn’t deny the shockwaves it sent straight to your clit.

“Lee Know..” You gasp out as you throw your head back into the pillows. You hear him hum in approval at your response and his thumb finds your clit, rubbing gentle circles over your sensitive bud. You couldn’t stop the string of moans flooding out your mouth from finally receiving some form of attention on your desperate pussy.

“That feel good baby girl?” Lee Know chuckles, already knowing the answer.

“Yes! M- more.. please. Want more” You beg between shaky breaths.

“Such a greedy girl” he says, as he makes his way up to your level, your faces now inches apart. He lifts two fingers, looking down at you with lust filled eyes.

“Suck” He orders and you comply, sucking his fingers enthusiastically, moaning at his dominant tone. “Good girl.” He says. He let his fingers linger in your mouth for a moment, taking in the beautiful sight underneath him. Soon, he begins trailing his fingers down and across your clit towards your entrance. He pushes them into you slowly and you instantly let out a loud moan at the intrusion.

“So fucking wet already. Dirty girl”. He smirks.

You rock you hips up and down in an attempt to push Lee Knows fingers deeper inside of you. He curls his fingers, rubbing against your sweet spot and you feel euphoric, arching your back and whining desperately. You wanted him, you needed him.

“God y/n, you drive me fucking crazy” He says, impatiently unzipping his trousers and freeing himself of the confines of his jeans and boxers. You look down to ogle him, practically drooling upon seeing his now, very hard cock. For a moment, you wondered if it would even fit inside you.

“Are you sure you wanna do this y/n?” Lee Know asks warily.

“Yes! Please fuck me oh my god I need you.” You knew how desperate you sounded but you didn’t care, all you cared about right now was Lee Know fucking you so rough you saw stars. He visibly relaxed again and smiled at your enthusiastic consent.

“God, such an impatient slut” He scoffs and begins rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your entrance. You push your hips down in desperation and he thrusts into you harshly, bottoming out straight away inside you and be lets out a long drawn out “Fuckkkk”.

Your eyes roll back into your head and you reciprocate his moans with your own. Once he’s given you time to adjust, he begins to build up speed, your body jolting upwards with each harsh thrust into you.

“Oh FUCK!” You shout out, forgetting you had company just a few rooms away. You’re scrunching your eyes closed and gasping every time his dick hits your sweet spot, coupled with pleas that never stop leaving your mouth. Lee Know leans down to cup your cheek with his hand and kisses you so deeply you thought you were ascending into heaven. You both moan into the kiss and you couldn’t ignore the feeling of how amazing this felt. Lee Know grunts out, his fingertips trailing from your cheek down your neck and towards your tits. He teasingly twists them and you whine in response and shiver as goosebumps form all over your body. He lifts himself upright to take in your entire figure, adoration filling his eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful y/n, I cant get enough of you.” He grunts as he thrusts into you harder and rougher, his pace soon beginning to falter as his orgasm drew closer, as did yours. His fingers return to your clit, rubbing circles there and whines were flooding out of your mouth.

“‘M- close Lee Know ah!” Your body begins to jolt and you feel yourself right on the edge of your climax.

“Cum with me baby, please- fuck-” Lee Know barely had time to finish his sentence before he was filling your pussy with his seed, grunting animalistic moans that pushed you over the edge. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of ecstasy and Lee Know takes in the image of you in your euphoric state, stunned by how breathtaking you looked.

He lay on top of you as you both caught your breath and he kisses your forehead, brushing the stray strands of hair out of your face.

“Guys are you in here? Channie hyung is abou- OH MY GOD” Han nearly screams as Lee Know jumps off of you, attempting to wrap the duvet around both of your naked forms. You never actually saw Hans face, assuming he bolted out the room at the unexpected scene in front of him. Both you and Lee Know couldn’t hold back your laughter and you hear him mumble from outside the door “Um.. just.. text me what pizza you both want..”

-

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Hank McCoy’s sibling

Hank McCoy x sibling!reader

warnings:

a/n: i started writing this fic months ago and when i was halfway done mobile glitched and deleted the whole draft so i gave up out of rage anyways. i dont think i liked how it turned out but idk!

prompt: anonymous: “Hellooo !! First of all i have to say that i love your fics !! Second of all , i wanted to request a headcanon , with being hank mccoy’s little sister?? I was thinking that she is a mutant and she has powers like Wanda. It would be really cool to see is with the other x men. Also her age to be around 14 when the first movie sets place ?( Sorry if i didn’t explain it well)”

being a mutant who had just discovered their powers was hard

what was even harder was that your brother hank had to take you in when it happened

hank understood what it felt like to be different, and luckily he had a good enough job to support you

“just sit here and do your homework. quietly” -hank, seating you in his office at work

“what makes you think i wont be quiet?” -you

“you blew up the toaster this morning” -hank

“it burnt my toast” -you

“listen, okay? no one can no we are what we are. just be calm. if you need help on your homework, let me know” -hank

you spent a lot of time at hank’s work, which led to you two immediately being exposed by charles xavier when he waltzed into your lives

“oh, dear, you’ve just experienced your mutation recently. you’re a powerful one, but you can’t control it well. we can help with that” -charles

he quickly realized it was a mistake to comment on yours and your brother’s…issues

“no! no, y/n, it’s too dangerous. you’re in middle school, you have homework. im not letting him turn you into a soldier” -hank

if you couldn’t tell by now, hank was a bit anxious about raising you

after all, your powers weren’t much alike, he didn’t know how to navigate this

“i need to learn how to control them, or else im gonna hurt someone” -you

you didn’t understand what it felt like to look different, but he didn’t understand what it felt like to fear yourself

“who’s the kid?” -alex

“that’s my sibling, y/n” -hank

“what’s your power?” -alex

“it’s kind of…uncontrollable. i can’t show you” -you

“i know how that feels” -alex

“you do?!” -you

when alex finally revealed his power, it made you excited to show your energy blasts

you managed to keep them mostly contained and alex gave you a huge high five

“stay away from him, y/n. he’s not a good influence” -hank

“but we have similar powers. im not alone!” -you

“doesn’t mean you need to be friends” -hank

the rest of the gang was super sweet to you, but you had to remind them you were young, not little

“you’re probably the strongest out of all of us, kiddo” -raven

sean liked to pretend like you were super scary and cower whenever you looked at him

“no please dont hurt me!!!” -sean, convincingly but sarcastically

you became everyone’s little sibling

“admit it, we’ve never been closer” -you

“yeah, you’re right” -hank

“and we aren’t so lonely” -you

“that’s also true” -hank

“so why are you acting so protective and jealous” -you

“im just used to it being us two” -hank

“yeah but now we aren’t struggling, we have all this space to move around and time to focus on important things. i can finally use my powers without getting scared!” -you

“are you still keeping up with your schoolwork?” -hank

“stop worrying so much, hank” -you

regardless of his protests, you still geared up to fight and it infuriated him

what infuriated you was that he was blue

“what. the hell. did you do?” -you

“im the adult here, why are you in that suit. y/n’s not going on this mission. and watch your language!” -hank

you nearly gave him a heart attack, but by the end of the fight he was proud of you. truly.

for a short time, the remainer of the team stayed together

alex and you trained together often

“hey! only i can bully hank” -you

“oh, you’re making rules now?” -alex

“i am the boss around here” -you

charles admired how far you’d come

and hank was honestly grateful he wasn’t raising you alone

you continued your schooling and just as you graduated, charles offered you a job teaching at the school for gifted youngsters

but it shortly closed after that, leaving you without much of a purpose

“hank, i think i need to go off on my own” -you

“it’s too dangerous, y/n. you’re much better off here” -hank

“you mean with you and charles? two of the most self-hating mutants i know? charles is injecting himself with medication to stop his powers. medication YOU made. how long until you make one for me so im not so ‘dangerous’ anymore” -you

“what could you possibly do out there?” -hank

“i already got a job as a teacher, hank. i’m off to go live my life. call me if you need me” -you

he did call you later, rambling about a mutant from the future preventing a war or something. just that you needed to come back

“y/n, good to see you” -logan

“do i know you?” -you

“apparently he knows all of us” -charles

“thats not weird” -you, sarcastically

it’d been a while since you’d seen any action, so it was a little refreshing doing something like breaking into the pentagon

“after this, maybe we could go out sometime” -peter

“get away from them!” -hank

“i got this hank—kid, i’m too old for you” -you

“you’re barely five years older than me” -peter

“you’re seventeen. go away.” -you

you and hank laughed about it later

really, it was weird seeing erik and raven again. even charles with his shit together. it was like old times

you just wished it could stick

you left before any more damage could be done to your personal life and gave hank a big hug

“be safe. don’t do anything stupid” -you

“hey, thats what i was gonna say” -hank

you went back to your life and soon got a call from charles

a job offer, the school was opening again

“come home, y/n. hank misses you” -charles

it took some convincing, but you came back

and maybe this time things would be different

you got your classes and were ready to start teaching a new generation of mutants the way you wished you were taught

(sorry i cut this short i ran out of ideas 😭)

taglist: @locke-writes // @randomawesomeperson102 // @captainshazamerica // @dindjarinsspouse // @summersimmerus // @simp-legend // @nekoannie-chan // @groovy-lady // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[luvlystarr]

⋆｡ ˚｡ ⋆୨୧⋆ ｡˚

Prompt: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Reader, meet-cute with a beautiful stranger, based off of Beautiful Stranger by Laufey!

Content: Fluff

This has been sitting in my drafts for so long and I just wanted to get it done with 😭 Also thank you so much for the huge support on my last post!🤍🤍

⋆｡ ˚｡ ⋆

Everyday has always been the same. Get up, get ready, go to work, go back home, sleep and repeat. Nothing much changed in your routine.

So, there you were again, standing in the middle of the train station while patiently waiting for your ride to work. It was early in the morning and your mind was still numb from the very little sleep you had. You were still trying to make sense of your surroundings.

It didn't take long for a voice to ring throughout the station, which came from the speakers, indicating that your train is finally coming. Everyone hustled around, trying to be first ones in and find a spot.

The train appeared and halted in front of you. Once the doors opened, people around you began rushing in. You were pushed around relentlessly, but you had no energy to stop them. Unfortunately, you letting them push you around left you with no spots for you to sit, forcing you to stand. As much as you hated the idea, it was probably best knowing if you chose you sit you would've fallen asleep and missed your stop. So, you held onto the metal pole next to you, making sure not to topple over once the train began to move. Time seemed to slow down, it felt like it was taking ages for you to get to your stop. Your body was begging for a wink of sleep and you tried your best to distract yourself by thinking of random things. Ranging from work to useless information you found on the internet. Although it ended to no avail. Your eyelids began to feel heavy and your head began to nod as you slowly drifted into sleep. The grip you had on the metal pole loosened ever so slightly, leaving you vulnerable to any sort of movement from the train. Half of your body was asleep while the other half was awake, desperately trying to stop succumbing into the drowsiness. You didn't even notice someone stand next to you, also holding onto the same pole. Just then, the train abruptly shook which caused your body stumble over. Your eyes instantly shoot wide open, feeling the exhaustion switch to panic. Your hand's grip on the pole tightened but your body was already sent flying forwards. Before you could face plant on the floor, somebody's hand catches you and you land on that person's chest. A rush of heat quickly crept up your face. You pull away, flushed from embarrassment, as you look up to see you saved you. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—" Your words instantly died in your mouth as your eyes landed on the most handsome face you've ever seen your entire life. The man's brown eyes looked down at yours, a small grin on his face from amusement. His chuckle reverberated from his chest, which sounded so heavenly in your ears. You were left dumbfounded, staring at the most beautiful stranger you've ever encountered. "It's fine, don't worry about it. You okay, though?" The man asked, his British accent becoming apparent. God, even his voice sent shivers down your spine. You meekly nodded your head, feeling your blush get worse. "Yeah, I'm good," you awkwardly chuckle. If only you had put more effort into your appearance, you probably look half dead right now from the lack of sleep. He smiled once more and you could've sworn your heart dropped. Now your nerves were all over the place. All because of some random handsome guy who saved you from embarrassing yourself. His hand eventually leaves you but lingered for a bit before fully pulling away. The doors opened and the train came to a stop. You look outside and notice it was finally your stop. Once again, people began hustling outside, pushing you around once again. But before you could leave, you give one last look at the man. You give him your best smile, despite still feeling tired, and awkwardly say, "Thanks for catching me, I would've fallen face first on the floor." You regretted saying that the moment you said it. In your entire life you’ve never heard your voice so shaky and weird. Your words were followed by another chuckle, which the man returned. "No problem," he said, his own smile becoming bigger. Although you didn't want to say goodbye, you didn't want to be late to work either. You give him a small nod before getting off of the train. The doors behind you close. Instantly, you feel stupid for not even asking for his name. Just before the train could leave, your quickly look back, only to find him staring right back at you.

There was something special about him, besides the fact that he was absolutely attractive. It was as if there was an invisible string that bound you to him. So many questions flooded your mind about him and you couldn't help but feel the need to know more about him.

The two of you were left standing there, staring at each other through the doors of the train before it began to move. Your eyes followed him, watching him give a small wave before the train finally left your view. After another moment, a disappointed sigh leaves your lips. Time to face reality again. He'll most likely remain a stranger until you encounter him again. Well, if you ever encounter him again. You get to work and clock in. Your job is a barista at a small cafe that usually isn't busy, which is pretty simple enough. You liked the quietness and the constant smell of coffee and bread.

When you finished making another customer's drink, your manager called you over, asking if you can be cashier for a bit while she quickly does something. Of course, you agree and take over as soon as possible. You wait for the next customer while mindlessly staring at the register in front of you. The sound of the door opening caught your attention and you quickly pull yourself together for the customer. "Hello! Welcome to..." Once again, your words failed to leave your lips as you look up to meet the exact same man from the train. He let out an amused smile. "Oh, it's you! What a coincidence," he laughed. You returned his laugh as you feel your face flush. At that point you could’ve died from embarrassment. "Yeah, this is where I work. So, what can I get you?" You ask him

No way this is happening. You had already embarrassed yourself enough and you can’t handle anymore dumb memories to keep you up at night.

“Just a medium coffee," he responds.

You put that in the register before finally asking him, "Can I get a name for that?" "Kyle Garrick." You nod your head. Oh, you were definitely going to remember that name from now on. "Alright! That'll be $4.90." You hand Kyle the card reader and he inserts his card in. Once he was done, you hand him the receipt and gesture him to the side where he can wait. You quickly go and make his drink, making sure every little detail is perfect. It was such a simple drink yet your hands trembled at the thought of making a mistake. Once you were done making the most perfect medium coffee you could make, you quickly turned back to Kyle.

“Order for Kyle!” You called out.

Kyle came over and took the drink from you. His fingers brushed against yours in such a brief moment, in your perspective it didn’t seem accidental at all. Yet somehow that small touch left your mind completely blank.

He smiled at you again. “Thanks.. (Name).” You could tell he got that off of your name tag from the way he quickly glanced at it. You nodded your head and returned his smile with a sheepish one.

Before Kyle could leave he took out a small folded piece of paper and slid it across the counter to you.

“Are you gonna be here tomorrow?” He asked.

You were taken aback by that question but you were still quick to answer. “Yeah, I work from Monday to Friday,” you answered.

Kyle nodded his head. “Then I’ll see you again tomorrow. I’d like to stay and chat for a bit but I gotta go. Thanks for the coffee,” he said while gesturing to the cup in his hand. With that, he takes his leave. You quickly took the little paper and read what was written inside.

Not even a mere millisecond passed when you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Your face burned red as you stared at it for God knows how long.

It was his number.

If you could, you would’ve quickly pulled out your phone and saved it but you didn’t have it with you since your boss makes no one has their phone on hand while working.

“Geez, your gonna burn a hole through that paper if you keep staring like that,” your coworker chuckled, snapping you out of your trance.

You hastily shove the paper into your pocket. “Holy shit, you scared me,” you uttered.

Your coworker continued to laugh at you. “You know, you can be so oblivious sometimes. Did you even notice the way he started at you while you made his coffee? He looked like he got love at first sight.”

Hearing that made your heart jump like crazy. It was true, you didn’t notice at all and just assumed he was looking somewhere else.

“Why don’t you chase after him? You never know, he could be your future husband,” your coworker grinned mischievously.

“Shut up…” You grumbled, moving past her to try and focus back on your work.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

A/N: I finished this sweet little one shot I found in my drafts. ❤️

Wayne Munson stared at his nephew's hospital bed. He never really felt his age, not around his nephew. Eddie always somehow managed to bring out the rambunctious side that once belonged to his youth. He was quick to his snapbacks and wasn't afraid to wrestle with him a time or too. Sitting in this chair, however, Wayne felt every bit his age and then some. It was times like these with Eddie that made him feel old, and it was worse now.

"You better not leave me alone, boy," Wayne whispered gruffly.

"Wayne?"

He looked over his shoulder, and his heart leaped at the sight of the woman he once loved walking through the door of the hospital room. Shit, maybe he still loved her. Her smile, though tentative, was still sweeter than pumpkin pie. Wayne loved pumpkin pie. Claudia was still as beautiful as the day he met her. He wondered if she was still a Henderson or if she finally divorced that no good husband of hers. When he met her, she was still Claudia Jackson, the sweetest girl in all of Hawkins. She wasn't afraid of giving away her heart more than once to anyone who she felt deserved it, and she wasn't afraid of befriending anyone, even if it might cause her grief. Although there were risks in that, she wasn't afraid of taking those either.

"Hey, punkin," Wayne said, giving her a crooked grin.

"Wayne," Claudia said, and he was pleased to see that he could still make her blush so prettily.

"When did you get back to Hawkins?" He asked.

"Quite a few years ago," Claudia said, looking at her feet in shame. "I would have contacted you, but to be honest, I was afraid."

"I was never upset with you for choosing him, Claudia. He was sick, what were you supposed to do? You loved him too," Wayne said. "Just disappointed in the situation, is all."

"I know," she said softly.

"How is Walt?" Wayne asked.

"Gone. Left before we moved back to Hawkins," Claudia said.

"We?" Wayne asked.

"I have a son. Dustin. Your boy took him under his wing this year," Claudia said. "I'm very grateful to him."

"He's a good boy," Wayne sniffled. "School's always been hard for him. It's going to be even harder for him now that they think he's a murder. They cleared him, but you know how it is. The public's opinion has always been the hardest to clear."

Claudia moved closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I never believed it for a second," Claudia replied.

"What if he doesn't wake up?" Wayne sobbed, and he collapsed in Claudia's arms.

And it was like the past twenty years hadn't happened. She was here and holding him tightly. It was like time hadn't passed at all. He spent most of his energy crying in her arms, and he's not sure when he fell asleep, but when he woke up, he was reclining back in the hospital chair with a blanket draped over him. Claudia walked back in a few moments later. He thought he had dreamed her up there for a second. She was wearing nurses' scrubs. Shit, maybe he was still dreaming.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, old man," she said teasingly. "I work here as a nurse."

"How did you -?"

"Twenty years is a long time, but I like to think that I still know you," Claudia said softly.

"You were always good at taking care of other people," he replied.

"So were you, always taking care of that brother of yours and Elizabeth," Claudia and started pushing Eddie's hair back. "I hear a lot of people say that he looks a lot like his daddy, but I see a lot of Elizabeth in him too. I always thought so since he was a baby. I always liked Elizabeth. I was sad to hear that she passed. I would have come then, but Dusty was a sick baby, and I'm not sure what stopped me after."

"You're here now," Wayne said softly. "Please, don't leave again, punkin. I know it's been twenty years, but I never stopped loving you. Choose me this time. I ain't asking for much, just whatever you can give me. I know I can't give you a whole lot. . ."

"Nothing can keep me away from you, Wayne Munson," Claudia said. "Not ever again."

"Not even cats?" Wayne asked.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," she teased.

Wayne chuckled and took her hand, pressing a hard but loving kiss to it.

"You know anything about the Harrington boy that's been patrolling the halls?" He asked.

"Oh, that's Steve. He's as good as my son, too, as well as Sue and Charles Sinclair's son. His parents, well, they're about as reliable as Al," Claudia said. "He's a good boy, and he's been a good older brother to Dusty. To all the kids."

"There's something in his eyes, though," Wayne said, his eyes wandering over to Eddie. "I'm not sure if I should say."

"Sometimes, things don't need to be said for someone to understand," Claudia said, her eyes twinkling delightfully. "I hope it all works out for them."

"Me too," Wayne said softly.

It was during that moment when Claudia and Wayne were staring fondly into each other's eyes that Eddie awoke.

"Either you're a really good nurse, or you really are going to be my new auntie," Eddie croaked.

Wayne had never been happier to give him a slap on the head than he was in that moment. His boy was awake, his loud mouth a strong indicator of more good things to come.

[anneapocalypse]

AO3 Year End Roundup 2024

Thank you for the tag, @crackinglamb!

Tagging: @farfromdaylight @dreadfutures @rosella-writes @myreia and anyone else who hasn't been tagged yet and wants to do this!

Words posted: 15,777

Additional Words Written: A little over 100k by the looks of it! I had at least a little of what I posted this year written in 2023, so I don't have an exact number.

Grand total of words: 121,950

Fandoms: It's been an FFXIV year! I posted my first XIV fic in February and my most recent one this month.

Works: 5

Highest Kudos: At present, it's the one from February, In Thine Arms, Ere Long, with 55.

Highest Hit Oneshot: Same as the above, with 534.

New Things I Tried: I don't think I've written phone sex before? Honestly, it's all been pretty thoroughly in my wheelhouse.

Fic I Spent the Most Time On: Without a doubt, Harsh Light, Ariane's post-Heavensward fic. I have hope of having it and its companion fic, Gentle Dark, finished and posted in 2025!

Fic I Spent the Least Time On: I'd guess Of the Depths was probably the fastest write.

Favorite Thing I Wrote: Of the ones I've posted, I think The Pursuit of Idle Pleasures is my favorite. The Starlight fic was fun too! but I just so dearly love writing Urianger's POV. Of the unposted work there is much of Harsh Light and Gentle Dark that I am proud of and excited to share, though there's a lot of work yet to do.

Favorite Thing I Read: @myreia's Divergence of the Heart (Aymeric/WoL, Thancred/WoL, Thancred/Hilda, 53K, rated E) was a really standout read for me this year. A beautifully-written fic about two of my favorite things--complicated relationships, and the Warrior of Light having a bad time in Ishgard--this story moved me in a variety of ways and has lingered with me long after I finished reading! Highly recommend.

Something I Finished: I finished five one-shots! Also a first draft of a nearly 60k longfic.

Miscellaneous Highlights: I'll give a highlight to my Starlight fic, No Sweeter Gift, started last winter and left unfinished until I returned to it this month. I'm not sorry I let it sit for a year; I think I have a much stronger grasp of both Ariane's voice and Urianger's now, and was able to make it what I wanted it to be! (Also, I've learned a lot about gpose, and it was a lot of fun doing some shots to go along with the fic.)

Writing Goals for 2025: Finish and post Harsh Light and Gentle Dark. Beyond that, I got where the wind takes me. When I set goals for a whole year, they almost always end up either not realistic or not mattering to me by the end of the year because something else seized my attention, so I'm just not going to worry about it.

Final Thoughts: I considered 2023 to be kind of a rough year for writing, and I feel like I came back pretty strong in 2024. Not just in raw word count, though that's definitely a part of it (I wrote about 40k in 2023). While I am sorry last year lost me so much momentum on the Dragon Age longfic that's currently sitting on the shelf, I cannot be sorry for having fallen so hard into FFXIV, because it truly did so much to revive my energy for writing and help me find the joy in it again.

Also, it's been fun writing so much smutfic again! In recent years I've kind of struggled with writing sex scenes, not for any conscious reason or inhibition, but I'd just start something and then get bored with it quickly and move onto something else. Perhaps falling so deep into a new ship has revived my inspiration! Whatever the reason, that's been most of what I've posted this year, and it's been a blast!

I am really looking forward to sharing more of Ariane's story as it comes together! There's also a lesson I'm hoping to take from how much fun I had writing this year, and that's that not everything has to be a longfic. I did make a lot of longfic progress this year; it's the vast majority of what I wrote, and I'm very happy with the numbers. Nonetheless, I think periodically writing a one-shot has really helped with keeping my energy up. I think I've had a bit of a problem in recent years with putting too much pressure on myself to turn every idea into a Big Story, and squirreling ideas away to use in some theoretically longfic later instead of just developing them into a perfectly workable short story today.

I do love writing longfic, and I'm pretty good at motivating myself through those long first drafts, but nonetheless... sometimes you just forget what it feels like to finish something. Also when a fic can take months or even years to finish, it keeps me living with this perpetual terror that I won't be able to sustain the interest long enough to finish the thing before my fixation moves on to something else... and leaves me feeling guilty and sad when that does happen and a big project needs to go on the shelf, unfinished and largely unseen. I love writing, and I love writing fanfiction because there's no reason to do it but love, love of the source material and love of the characters and love of the community and love of writing itself. But there are moments when that feeling starts to creep in that I'm making it a job for myself, and I don't want to do that.

It's caused me to give some more thought to how I want to structure future work, Ariane's stories in particular, because while there's lots more I want to write about her, not all of it needs to be a longfic. Most probably doesn't, in fact. Harsh Light did and does, but I already knew that the next thing (chronologically) was going to be more a series of vignettes than one long story. The big question will be how I want to write about Shadowbringers. I know broadly what I want to write about in Shadowbringers, and it's such an important part of Ariane's story that for a long time I felt like it had to be a longfic... but seeing as it pretty closely follows canon other than the ship stuff, I don't think making it a longfic would bring enough new to the table to justify how much canon I would have to straight-up rehash. (Even in the current draft of Harsh Light, there are a few points where I'm struggling with this--I think I probably need to give myself permission to pare certain canon events down to a summary or a passing mention where I don't actually have much new to say about them.) So now, I'm considering that maybe it doesn't need to be a longfic at all! Maybe simply writing the vital moments and letting the reader's memory of canon events carry the rest is enough. Furthermore, I'm pretty sure anything I want to write about Endwalker and Dawntrail can be done in one-shots.

And realizing that... honestly, it's very freeing. In addition to lifting a lot of the pressure I tend to put on myself, it also means I don't need to write everything in order; I don't need to be constantly plowing forward chronologically with no breaks. If I want to work on some Shadowbringers fic while I'm finishing Gentle Dark I can do that. I don't have to look at my character's story as a massive, daunting project that will take years to finish, but rather as a well of possibility that I can dip into whenever I want, and wherever chronologically I want, and I can leave and work on other things and come back whenever I want, and it's okay.

2024 in general was a lot about freeing myself from other people's expectations. So maybe the next step is considering the expectations I set for myself. I want to keep writing, and fanfiction in particular, a joy. I may always want to write long stories in some capacity, but I think right now opening myself to writing more short ones has been very good for me and something to embrace in the coming year.

[hobbitwrangler]

Trick or treat! 🎃

Sorry for taking so long to respond to this, my response has been sitting in my drafts for weeks waiting for me to just spellcheck the damn thing but finally I have done it and here it is!💚

One day, but not today

Elros/Elros' wife | G | 3k | AO3

Idhrenwen had woken with greater energy than normal that morning, and had immediately strategised how best to take advantage of it. She had told her maids that she wished to have breakfast with her grandchildren, ignoring the sceptical looks that they exchanged. It annoyed her sometimes, the way that people would exchange glances and whispers as if she were not capable of noticing, nevermind that her eyesight and her hearing were not what they once were. Yet she refused to let it grate on her nerves, and so she had enjoyed her breakfast with her grandchildren. Elros had been gone already at that point, risen to complete who knew what business. He had always kept strange hours, and Idhrenwen was long accustomed to it, so she set to questioning the grandchildren about their latest adventures, letting herself bask in their simple troubles and their youthful faces and their bright eyes. After breakfast, she had roped Tindómiel into walking about the gardens with her, listening to her speak of her studies and absorbing the scent of the blooming roses all about them. That had been more tiring than she expected, and she had allowed herself a nap after that, waking up to discover with relief that she still had the urge to do more. By that time the news of her sudden burst of energy had reached her husband and when she was departing her chambers she found herself face to face with Tar-Minyatur himself.

He came to a halt directly beside her as she closed the door to her chambers, and she wondered if he had timed his arrival for exactly the moment that she would be awake and upright. Tall and unwearied, he towered above his subjects, even those ever-taller younger generations. When they married, Idhrenwen had begun wearing heeled shoes but in recent years they hurt her feet too much and she was forced to contend with craning her neck again. "Where did you spring from?" she asked, beginning to walk in no particular direction.

He fell into step beside her, arms folded innocently behind his back. "I hear you have been doing the rounds today," he remarked, ignoring her question.

Ah well, she could tell by the simple tunic and the well-worn boots that he had been outside, likely occupied by practical rather than official duties.She fixed her eyes on the faint line of dirt beneath his scrubbed clean nails rather than see the look of faint concern that she knew he wore. They both knew what that burst of energy meant in the sick and the old. "Hardly," she said lightly, brushing one mottled hand over his own. "I managed a few conversations with the grandchildren and I pestered our daughter for a while."

"I heard," said Elros, and she heard that fond, slanted smile in his voice. "She was very pleased at your pestering."

"Good," said Idhrenwen. It niggled sometimes, the feeling that she was an aged burden, weighing down a family whose elven blood rendered them so strong and beautiful and unmarred by the passage of time. The enchanted, faery beauty that surrounded the royal family always fell apart somewhat when she appeared, an old woman, out of place among beings cast in the mould of the Eldar. She was worried about being left behind sometimes, although there was little time for such thoughts now. You will not be left behind, she thought wryly, you will simply leave.

Elros hummed to himself, and she wondered if he could hear her thoughts. He likely could. He had the habit of answering questions that she was sure she had never asked, consoling her for worries that she had never expressed. "Well, how do you feel about a more relaxing afternoon?"

"How so?" she asked, finally tilting her head back to catch a glimpse of his face.

He smiled down at her, eyes the grey of a peaceful sea, captivating in a way that no mortal’s should be. "Come watch the birds with me."

And so here they were, her seated on a soft cushion for her aching joints and him seated on the flat stones of the riverside. It was a warm afternoon, the effect of the sun softened by the shade of the trees and a soft breeze moving through the woods. Elros had insisted that this area of woodland near the palace be preserved and, in deference to their new king’s elf-strange ways, his people had obliged.

He sat beside her, alert and watching, his eyes scanning the woodland and the river below for any sign of life, his notebook open on his lap to take note of anything to remark upon. He had spotted a kingfisher nest when they first arrived and had been occupied for a while, watching the parents feed their young, before his attention was drawn by a heron, which had appeared to watch them with a somewhat suspicious look in its eye.

“How many of those do you think you have by now?” Idhrenwen asked, gesturing at the notebook.

Elros took a moment to refocus on what she had said, before tilting his head in thought. The sunlight filtered down to bathe him in warm light, shining on his long, black hair, his face, with its strong nose and bright eyes seeming only stranger and more beautiful. He looked exactly as he had upon their first meeting, a creature just on the other side of mortality, fair and strange and young. She, on the other hand, could have been another woman. Long ago her russet hair had faded to white strands, curls lost to age. Her face had shrivelled and her body had shrunk, rheumatism and other ills freezing her joints. "Your eyes are the same," Elros would tell her, smiling as he brushed her hair and helped her prepare for bed at night. “River-water under sunlight.”

“Oh, there must be at least one hundred,” said Elros lightly. “They shall take a while to catalogue, certainly, but imagine the picture they shall paint of these lands and all that dwells here!”

Idhrenwen smiled to herself at that. Elros was not afraid of the world about him, not even wolves or bears gave him pause; indeed she suspected that much fear, of death, of foes, of the terrors of life, had been burned from him long before she met him. “There is beauty in this world, no matter how briefly its colours show,” he had told her once, when they still barely knew each other. “And I intend to see it, to make it bloom again, another year, if I can.”

She would have thought one who loved beautiful things would have remained with the elves - indeed she had told him so - but he had only shaken his head. “Simply because a thing lasts does not make it beautiful. The age of a thing does not give it meaning.”

Elros’ voice brought her out of her musings, lively with delight. “Not just a picture of these lands either,” he remarked, holding up the notebook so that she could better see it. 

He had flipped back a few pages to show a drawing eclipsing his notes on squirrel populations. It was a drawing of Tindómiel, smiling her father’s smile, pearls gleaming in her hair. “And look …” He flipped back a few more pages to reveal another drawing. An old woman bent down beside a small boy, arm extended to point something out to him. Me and Aulendil, she realised, recognising the curious look on the boy’s round face. Yes, it truly was her; that wrinkled face, that hooked nose, those embroidered robes and heavy earrings.

“You are making me look awfully callous, guren mell,” she remarked, tugging affectionately at the soft material of his tunic. “All of my notebooks contain nothing but cold facts. What shall they say of the Queen’s heart?”

Elros laughed, a sound so merry that she thought the trees would dance. “They shall say that it was full of the ancient wisdom of her people and the great legends of Men, while her husband wandered in the woods and made his little scribbles.”

That was not true, and they both knew it. As was his way, Elros had thrown his all into his chosen people, into their safety, their strength, their wellbeing. That Númenor stood as it did today, that Armenelos gleamed so brightly in the setting sun, that they were a whole, united people despite all that had befallen them before their journey here, that was all due to him. There was a reason that they had chosen him as their king and it was because they loved him, as he loved them. 

It was hard to remember, sometimes, whether she had loved him first as a king or as a husband, and she had long since given up trying to decide. It was impossible not to love him, she thought, and she was sure, after hundreds of years, that it was not simply the first flush of ardour talking. How could one not love a person so full of life? She had thought it was because of his elf-blood at first, that the glow of immortality must still hang about him. Yet she had met elves since then, and now she was certain that it was simply Elros, and he was indefatigably alive.

Unlike you.

“You know I still wonder that it is real,” she heard herself say. “All that I have been since I was born. That we are here. That I am Queen Nolwendë of the an island born out of the sea. That I have lived so long and seen so much that my mother would never believe …”

“You suit it,” said Elros. "Being a creature out of legend."

She would have doubted him, in the early years. Despite all her bravado, she would have doubted him. She knew some had thought her impudent, out of her depth, attempting to make that strange, beloved almost-Man her own. She had not truly known then, what it would mean, would never have visualised herself as she was now, living in a great palace, her clothes heavy with finery and the weight of her position. She had been caught up in it all, in the heady strangeness of new life and new beginnings and the weight of all that was to be remembered and all that was to be built and all that was to come. And yet even if you had known, you’d have been too stubborn not to forge ahead anyway. And maybe that was why they both sat here, enjoying the forest's calm, because they had both been stubborn enough to try.

Elros’ gaze had wandered to the riverbank, where two otters were splashing in the shallows, chittering and squabbling until they caught his scent. They tilted their heads to one side, looking at him with bright curious eyes. They did not seem afraid of him, rather mildly curious. Maybe they smelled the blood of the Eldar in him or, even fainter, that of Melian.

“It’s like a story,” Idhrenwen remarked to herself.

Elros looked up at her again, inclining his head to indicate that she should continue. “How many stories do you think there are from the dark years, about faery kings stealing fair maidens?”

“I don’t know,” said Elros, meeting her gaze squarely and with an impudence that none of her grandchildren would ever dare display, and sliding into Taliska. “Tell me, Wise Rune of the House of Hador.”

She attempted to slap him, but he caught her wrist, his grip warm and firm as he laughed. “I meant no insult,” he protested, grinning as he reached to grasp her other hand. “Please do tell me, wise one.”

“I have told you it before,” Idhrenwen chided, leaning closer and trying not to smile. “In fact, I remember I began to tell it to you on our wedding night and you would not let me finish.”

“Because I could sense that it had a sad ending,” said Elros firmly, “and I will not have anything to do with that sort of thing.”

There was a long pause. In the silence, Idhrenwen could hear the sighing of the trees, the gentle music of a thrush, mingling with the soothing whisper of the river. It was just like all those years ago, the two of them wandering beneath the trees, her recounting the tales of her ancestors as he helped her across a chattering stream, him attempting to explain the difference between Noldorin and Sindarin jewellery fashions while they gathered herbs, both sitting in silence and enjoying the humming delight of simply being next to each other, watching the sun paint the sky anew. It was easier, within the white walls and intricate comfort of the palace, to withdraw into their ceremonial roles, to hide behind the day-to-day of living and not face the winding inevitability of time.

I will not see the season’s end. They both knew it, but he refused to say it, staring in silence at the river. She knew he did not wish to speak of it. After all, they had spent so many hours discussing it when they were young, huddled beneath the cover of the trees as it rained above them, her knees touching his as they attempted, with minds still so young, to wrestle with the question of his version of mortality. She could remember those moments so vividly, and thanked the Valar that her mind remained clear even if her body was so diminished. She could smell it, the rain on the damp earth, the scent of tree sap and autumn, could feel his hands grasping hers, his thumb rubbing gently against her skin. For all his choice, she thought, looking at the fair being before her, caught between Elf and Man, scarcely changed since those rainy afternoons beneath the pines, he might as well be immortal as far as I am concerned.

Enough. They had had their conversations about all this, and now that it was close, it seemed Elros could not face it. That worried her. She worried what would become of him when she died and all the hypotheticals that they had discussed beneath the pines became real as salt sting in the eyes.

She reached her hand to touch his shoulder, still solid and strong beneath her thin fingers. As if sensing what was to come, he inclined his head, those soft grey eyes taking her in as the breeze cast a strand of black hair across his face. It was loosening in the wind, rogue strands rippling and tangling in the silver and pearl earrings with which he adorned his ears. A gift from Tindómiel, she remembered.

"One day," said Idhrenwen gently, "I am going to die."

They were heavy words, and yet it felt strangely liberating to say them, to hear them mingle with the soft sounds of the river and the forest. I said it, and the sun did not cease to shine.

Elros�� eyes became heavier, his one hand grasping her wrist as the other held hers tightly. "Yes,” he said softly. “But not today."

Yes. But not today. And he was mortal, she realised then. One day, I will die, but not today. Today, I am alive, and I can smell the earth beneath the sun. A pointless defiance in the face of death. It is coming. But it has not come yet. Maybe that was what mortal life was then, a defiant shout into the ungrateful silence. Echoing. She wished to speak then, to point out that while it might not be today, it would come, and swiftly. And yet it was pointless. He had weighed this all up before, had decided, had made the choice of Lúthien. And then he had married her, had chosen to lose her even as he took her unto himself.

"And when you do die,” Elros continued, not breaking her gaze, his voice still gentle and warm as the caress of his thumb against her skin, “I will carry you in my heart until the day I go to follow you and find you among our forefathers and our friends."

And there it was. For all his youth and his elfen beauty and his eyes of things from beyond the sea, he would follow her. It will be just like when we were young, when I led you to the hidden temple and you fell behind. She could remember that so clearly, standing upon the crest of the hill, heart thudding at the thought of showing him what only the wise women of her people knew (and yet what did it matter, they were leaving anyway soon), taunting him for being bested by mortal kind.

"I am sorry I must leave you so soon," she told him, freeing her hand so that she could run it through his hair, soft and warmed by the sun.

Elros smiled a little, caught between tenderness and sorrow. "I am sorry I must follow you so tardily."

That made her smile then, despite the pricking behind her eyes. They had both heard of elves fading after the deaths of their beloveds but, no matter how it would hurt, how he would mourn, he would linger, to look after their people, to watch their children and grandchildren grow up, to count the kingfisher’s children, seated in a row open a tree branch. "You always did take the long way around."

"Always,” he laughed. “But I will go to you with gladness."

"Good,” said Idhrenwen firmly, cupping his face as she met his gaze, ever-strange and more familiar than her own reflection. “I will be patient. So long as you look after the birds and the otters while I am gone."

Elros smiled, inclining his head and planting a kiss on the knuckles of the hand he grasped. "Whatever my Queen would wish," he said, and Idhrenwen felt the sun bathe her in adoring warmth.

ask box trick-or-treat - lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

[akechiwrld]

born to die ꨄ haikaveh

art by @/mezudy678 on twt!!

tw | suicide ideation, death, alchoholism.

word count | 1,424 words ★ genre | angst, mentally ill kaveh, mental illness, major character death, au where haitham dies and kaveh is sad basically, kaveh is delusional, like in the traditional sense, depression/depression-like symptoms, me monopolising on lana del rey's lyrical genius<33

a/n | this has been sitting in my drafts for i kid you not over 6 months i think?!?! so yeah i just thought i should post it before the new year! i ruminated over the ending for so long but yknow new year new me so i just posted it. idk why i always make kaveh suffer but here is he suffering again. enjoy!?!?

link to my masterlist/how to request!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · 

“I’ll be waiting for you in heaven, my love.” 

The firm grip on Kaveh’s hand loosens as he feels his lover’s strength wane, taking not just his own, but Kaveh’s life force with it too.  

No, no… just a little longer, please. 

“But heaven is a place on Earth with you,” the blonde sniffles, embracing Alhaitham for the last time, “Don’t leave me…I still need you.” 

A chuckle erupts from the man next to him, and at that moment, Kaveh wishes he could loop that sound and listen to it forever, to keep Alhaitham in a world of his own design, where they could live together in the grandest of castles, all designed by Kaveh himself. 

He would construct them the most convenient house. Two study rooms for when they want to keep their distance from each other, a private library for Alhaitham, and a garden filled with all of Lesser Lord Kusanali’s creations, the plants being residents of the home just as much as Alhaitham and Kaveh would be. 

Kaveh sees Alhaitham, chuckling as he does now, smiling at Kaveh, his face aged a little with time, small folds of skin wrinkling around his eyelids as he beams, his happiness radiating, forcing Kaveh to smile along with him. If only time would permit it. Alhaitham is smiling at Kaveh, and he thinks he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life. He wants to sketch this moment to make it permanent. To cherish the final moments he has with his lover. 

“You’ll be fine, Kaveh,” Alhaitham puts a hand under Kaveh’s chin, forcing the older man to meet his deep green eyes, “I love you.” 

By this point, Kaveh’s vision is white, and he barely notices Alhaitham pull him for one last kiss until their lips touch. The kiss is gentle and delicate, too delicate for Kaveh’s liking. The lack of strength only serves as a reminder of his lover’s fading energy. Kaveh pulls away for breath, his golden locks now in disarray across his face, the crimson hairclips that once kept his elegant plait together now in mayhem.

“I love you too.” 

Those are the last words Alhaitham hears before his vision fades, the silhouette of the man he loves the most looming over him, a teardrop the last thing he feels before he slips into the calming embrace of death. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · 

Thoughts race across Kaveh's mind like a marathon, as if each thought had something of utmost importance to attend to, leaving the blonde highly disoriented. Even more disoriented than he would usually be at times like this, because at the moment, Kaveh has downed enough litres of alcohol to provide the weekly water intake of a family of 6. 

It’s at times like this when he can’t keep his thoughts at bay. Kaveh tries his best. He really does. He tries his best to seem okay. To maintain the façade of normalcy ever since that fateful night. He goes to work, completes his commissions on time, eats all of his meals, and speaks to all of his friends. He meets Cyno and Tighnari every Saturday at Lambad’s tavern for a round of Genius Invokation TCG, his thoughts steering clear of the empty seat to his left. The seat which nobody would dare take after the loss of its original occupant. 

Kaveh really does try. 

But on nights like this, he can’t help but crack. When he comes home to nobody, no annoying, shrill voice to welcome him, nobody to nag him about his health or his rent. These are the moments when he feels truly lonely, the only reliable friend he can turn to being a tall glass of wine. 

He sits alone in their usual spot. Top floor, at the back, so that people are less likely to find them. He knows Alhaitham can’t take people coming up to him after his work hours. Kaveh doesn’t mind. But this is just one out of the long list of habits Kaveh has kept after Alhaitham’s passing. No matter where he may be, heaven or hell, Celestia or Khaenri’ah’s ruins, a part of him will always live on through Kaveh. Always. 

At some point, though, Kaveh stopped being alone. He started hearing him again. The gentle words of his lover wafting through his eardrums. At first, it was subtle. A few comments here and there. 

“That client is a jackass.” 

“Go to sleep, Kaveh.” 

“Come on, love, you’ve got a meeting soon.” 

But then it became ubiquitous. The sweet, honey-like voice of his deceased lover followed Kaveh around wherever he went. At first, Kaveh thought he was going insane. Now, he doesn’t care enough to worry.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough, love?” A gentle voice fills his eardrums in an instant, a deep chuckle resounding with it, “Though I’d love to hold you again, I’d like you to live a long, full life before then. Preferably not dying of alcohol poisoning.” 

Kaveh scoffs and crosses his arms, “I don’t have to listen to you! What are you doing to do anyway?” 

The blonde hears a deep sigh, “I suppose you’re right. I can’t force you to go home, but it would make me very happy if you did.” 

Kaveh, in his drunken stupor, actually considers this. With a clear head, Kaveh never would have considered this a valid argument. Kaveh will do what he wants. But alas, the hurricane engulfing his mind causes a lapse in judgment. 

“Fine,” he says, begrudgingly, “Only if you cuddle with me when we get home.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” 

Kaveh then gets up and stumbles out of the tavern, paying the bill off his own tab this time. He supposes a benefit of Alhaitham’s passing was that his wealth and estate were passed on to Kaveh. Though this by no means makes up for the gaping hole in Kaveh’s heart, he is happy with the convenience his newfound wealth has brought him. 

The walk home passes in a daze, Kaveh blames this for his lack of comprehension, as by the time he's come to his senses, he’s tucked into bed, wrapped in the arms of Alhaitham once more. 

He looks into his lover’s eyes. The orange islands in the sea of green standing out more than ever before. Alhaitham’s arms wrap around him protectively, and he feels the safest he has in months. 

“Haitham,” Kaveh sniffles, “It’s been so hard without you here to guide me… I miss you… so much. Every time I think about you it feels as though somebody is ripping my heart out of my chest and stabbing it repeatedly with a knife.” 

“C-Cant you come back to me?” 

The soft sound of Alhaitham’s honey-sweet voice drips through Kaveh’s ears, “I’m here now, love. I’m here with you now, aren’t I?”

Kaveh groans, “I suppose so.” 

“Let’s go to bed now,” Alhaitham whispers soothingly in Kaveh’s ear, “You have a big day ahead of yourself tomorrow.” 

Kaveh lets the diluted voice of his lover lull him to sleep, his eyes getting heavier until they slide shut, and Kaveh surrenders to the deliria of dreaming for the night. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 

The sun streaks through the gap in the curtains, its rays hitting Kaveh’s face, illuminating his vermillion eyes as they blink open, the fatigue of sleep dissipating. The first thing he feels when he comes to his senses is the utter lack of warmth in his bed. The very bed itself becomes a black hole, Kaveh stumbling over himself to get as far away from it as possible. The very bed that was once the safe haven of him and his lover, turns into the very thing that seems to trap him. 

H-He was just here.

The soft embrace of death feels more tempting than ever now. It would be easy for Kaveh to sink into it; his thoughts being engulfed by a soft lulling whisper, convincing him to let go of this world and all the pain it has caused. Nonetheless, he gets up. Brings himself to his feet. Walking towards the bathroom, he surveys the empty walls of his once lively house, accepting the soft, lonely numbness that has become a hallmark of his existence. 

[i-love-sweet-william]

out of context pre-stozyers #7

it's been a long while. I have a lot of drafts that were just Not Done Enough that have been sitting around for...literal years at this point. but I decided to maybe try to post some anyway

so uhhh have Richie/stozier's early pov of Will + Notes

—

R: my roommate might legit be a zombie. I've never met anyone That dead inside before and I grew up with Bill (...do you think it's a William Thing??) dude's only tethered to the land of the living by like a few spider threads and a pot of coffee

S: wow. what a description. I'm sure he'd appreciate hearing that

R: hey do not snitch on me! you're not allowed to repeat the shit I confess in confidence!

-

R: I really think I can work with this. his music taste is impeccable and his band t-shirts are worn to optimal softness. this is gonna be a good final year. I can feel it. in my balls.

S: lovely

-

R: I can't tell if he's ignoring me or just mentally peaced out from brain matter withdrawal....or maybe he's listening to full albums in his head and my instrumental-less voice simply isn't worth pausing for. should I—

S: do not fucking serenade him in your dormitory just to test that theory.....at least do it outside so you can be properly witnessed and viciously mocked by the student body

R: you're so right, I'll report back to you tomorrow

-

R: (quietly) bro I swear to god I think he buys espresso off the black market to shoot directly into his veins like heroin.

S: is that really what you called to tell me. I'm hanging up—

R: wait wait wait! no okay listen, forget the zombie thing, I feel bad now, and I'm only telling you this because you'll never meet him and I can't just ask what's going on because I'm physically incapable of discussing Serious Shit in a Serious Way and I don't wanna make shit awkward the first week into the semester and it would be—

S: Richie.

R: right okay—

so listen. in a previous fandom, there was a character with Big Hospital Trauma and I...I used T shots to prompt angst. I had a trans guy who was chill about his shit like he wasn't trying to hide it or anything but also didn't feel the need to explain it unless asked, so the character with Hospital Trauma would see the needles or just the very specific marks left by needles and immediately assume the worst, that their new friend was secretly on death's door and would die shortly after they bonded.

Richie doesn't have hospital trauma but he still got worried that maybe whatever the medication was for was why Will had so little energy and felt a little bad about possibly having judged uh tHE EXHAUSTION OF FIGHTING SOME UNSPECIFIED CHRONIC OR TERMINAL ILLNESS (he previously assumed it was just exhaustion from moving in so it was fair game to mock). anyway Will's not sick but he is autistic and traumatized and fucking tired.

btw Will took a gap year so he's the same age as the losers but one year behind in college. that's not important. but I'm mentioning everything else why not go off on one more unnecessary detail. aight back to stozier dialogue

-

R: he gives me these serious "done with your shit" vibes—

S: you get those vibes from everyone.

R: ......okay, first of all, Rude. second, there are multiple types of "done with your shit" vibes, and his are like yours. like for instance today the way he begged me to shut the fuck up and tried to light me on fire with intense eye contact alone reminded me of you...almost feels like I'm at home.

S: he seems competent. I like him

-

R: Will shared caffeine with me today and I felt so fucking soft holy shit, I mean I'm saving it for tonight I didn't wanna crash in class [sometimes caffeine helps chill out ADHD people, some can even use it as a sleep aid, and I chose to give Richie that trait], but—

S: maybe he was trying to knock you out

R: what? nah.......oh shit maybe....no......you think— 

-

R: b..bro. y'know th.....y'know that Eyebrow Thing Ben does when he's...really into some poetry shit. W—Will has a Thing. but it's f—it's fuckin...he sticks his tongue out—like just a tiny bit—and it's. it's so fucking blessed. holy fuckin shit.

S: are you okay

R: no. no I'm fucking not. I might cry. I'm having a fucking meltdown over a mlem. fuck.

-

R: I heard the cutest softest most angelic laugh in the world today ohhh my god. like if you took Bev's warmth, and Eddie's innocence, and your upsettingly persistent aversion to expressing loud positive emotion which prevents anything more than a sinister little nightmare giggle, and rolled them all into one. that's Will's 

S: ..........I'm sorry, sinister li—?

R: I said what I said. and I still love and cherish it because it's a part of you💜

S: disgusting, thank you

-

R: your #1 source for new Byers trivia is back babey, today we've uncovered the movie snack of choice and the method w—

S: Please just get to it

R: reese's pieces. one at a time. like a fuckin.....hamster eating seeds. it gives the same effect as watching Mike lift hay bales with his massive sexy arms and then 5 minutes later be delicately eating little berries or some shit. except the hay bales are stage props and the berries are imposter m&ms

S: I'm gonna pretend you didn't just insult reese's pieces like that

-

R: he always seems moments from passing out so I wanted to share my energy through osmosis and tried to hold him and you won't fucking believe what happened

S: he punched you in the face

R: he let me!! just carried on with his business like I didn't even exist!!! what does that mean?!?! did he not even know I was there?? did he know and not care because he's already adjusted to my glorious presence??? is he actually just chill about it and I finally have a compliant body pillow after three years of loneliness???? I NEED TO KNOW THE TRUTH—but I was too shook in the moment to ask

S: .........good luck with figuring that out

Stan's not worried or anything like he's had 20 years to get used to how touchy Richie is. he genuinely wouldn't mind if Richie had a person to use like a "body pillow" when he's away from all his Losers, and doesn't see an issue if Will ends up okay with being an outlet for Richie's pent up physical affections. besides Will doesn't seem to have shown any particular interest anyway

......and that's because he's the type of aro that just doesn't even think about romance shit unless someone asks him to think about it (or there's literally someone standing in front of him giving a confession). however if asked, he would still label himself gay because the last time he had to think about it he came to the conclusion that, hypothetically, if he were to be in a relationship, it would probably be with another guy. but he has no interest in searching for specific terms for himself when he could spend his time like.....having fun instead of having a perpetual identity crisis. if he's not in or pursuing a relationship, why should it matter to him??

meanwhile Stan's the type of aro that Did think about hypothetical relationships but never pursued one, but also wouldn't mind if someone did want one with him, so he just had to say yes when Richie eventually asked about going out with him. Stan only starts pursuing Will because he's half of stozier and it would feel weird to him to let Richie "do all the work" when it was a Mutual decision to see if Will had any interest in Them.

also Stan's aware of more terms, he Wanted to study up, and is aware of his place on asexual spectrum (and wears a black ring to silently display it), but since he's been in a long term relationship with Richie he's less concerned with claiming arospec

okay jesus christ I'll shut the fuck up none of this is important but There's A Lot Okay

-

S: what's wrong with your voice, it sounds like after we—

R: listen man.....I was legit blasted into the stratosphere like Team Rocket and then dropped back to earth just as hard. let me catch my fucking breath

S: you...do mean mentally right? what'd he do this time

R: .....yeah, mentally. mind: blown, worldview: shook, lessons: learned.

-

R: I used the Platonic Pleasure Zone on him

S: you what

R: I used—

S: no don't fucking repeat it I heard you the first time. why the fuck do you insist on saying that. no one says that besides you

R: do you wanna know how he reacted or not

S: *deep fucking breath* carry on

R: (instantly softer voice) like a tired kitten holy fuck....I thought he was actually gonna fall asleep until—uh...........I spoke

S: uh huh. did you tell him you Used The Platonic Pleasure Zone

R: yes

S: and did he go for a chokehold

R: No but there was a very sexy shirt grab and even sexier glare

btw the "platonic pleasure zone" just refers to like.....back pat/shoulder squeeze/hair ruffle level intimacy that Can feel really nice and soft but can Also be done in a casual way that doesn't mean anything. but Richie uses that shit specifically in a soft comfy way, and Will is too stupid to notice anything unusual until Richie verbally states what he's doing

-

R: (whispering) he sings.....

S: (also quiet for some reason) like for a minor?

R: no dude........just.......I don't even know if he knows he's doing it but he's doing it and I'm having palpitations it's too much.....it's too quiet to be on purpose it's gotta be unintentional right?? no one should be allowed to be this soft I can't do this I'm....bro next time Ima send you a fucking recording I don't give a fUck—

-

R: after weeks of patient training, I am now able to cradle the William in my lap. I saw the face of god the first several attempts, but now we can cuddle in peace. we've learned to navigate this cramped habitat. we live in harmony.

S: why are you suddenly talking like he's a feral animal—

R: because he absolutely is and it's great. I could perish any day now but it would be okay because he'd make my death quick.

S: wh....what did I miss

R: nothing at all don't worry about it~👍

-

R: where was he in previous years. what universe was he hiding in. I needed him. I wanna bring him home with me. do you think it's legal to take him across state lines??

S: well don't just fucking toss him in the trunk. I'm not out here studying to be a lawyer. use your words like a functional human being.

R: ........you think I'm functional??? that's the most romantic thing you've ever said to me.....

S: let's not get ahead of ourselves. I said "like" a functional human being

-

in the first post I said "Stan's seen some of Will's drawings online" but now....now you get to know more of the Context of Stan seeing those "drawings". if anyone doesn't like the idea of an asexual Will drawing vent porn and didn't see that coming, now would be the time to stop reading

R: (ultra high speed) okay I know this sounds like a fuckin joke but I am being so serious rn when I say I think I've been rooming with one nastyass motherfucker, holy fucking shit—

S: what—

R: I mean you would not believe the shit I just saw and there was so much of it bro like deadass he might be a freak—

S: R—

R: Our kind of freak.

S: …

R: .........

S: .............oh.

R: .........................should I try to find out?? I mean of course I'm gonna find out. how fuckin insane would it be for my sweet innocent caffeine-fueled feral child to have been One Of Us this whole fucking time, how the fuck could I not notice—

-

R: disclaimer, I got permission to expose his filth blog like this...after. exposing all of us. to him....but Anyways uh jesus fucking christ dude how tf did he manage to be so active without me noticing.....I'll text you the blog name I forgot how he said it already, shouldn't even have a pronunciation, some random shit like...vuh.....vufi..bifim…

S: ............vwhbfmbu? [first letter in s1 ep titles]

R: yeah that! how tf did you say that out loud.......wait. have you been...?? no...no. Stan. Stanley. Stanford. hey. answer me. do not hang up. Staniel. you look at porn without me? and on the fucking regular if you're familiar with that Literal Gay Keysmash of a username! what kind of—I can't believe this!! the betrayal!!! STANLEY!!!!!

-

from here to the end, stozier is texting at various points during the following days but like.....make Richie's messages barely decipherable and split into numerous tiny texts (which is why Stan's able to interrupt), and give Stan's messages uncomfortably proper capitalization/punctuation

R: do you think Will knows he's a monsterfucker?? his tag usage is sHIT

S: he's not a monsterfucker there is literally no fucking happening

R: babe you don't gotta fuck to be a Fucker. I mean just look in the mirror

S: jesus fucking christ

R: you looked in the mirror and saw selfcest? that's hot.

S: you're going to hell god told me himself

R: oh shit god's there too??? Spicy [Stan turned off his phone after that] wait come back!! we haven't determined whether he knows or not!!!

-

R: do you think he had an Awakening, or just always knew but didn't know it was a thing to be known? do you think he had any gross friends like we had each other, or kept it to himself until I fucked up his perfect record? do you think he's just here for the eldritch horror shit, or thinks about shit that's actually possible too? do you think he—

S: he's literally like 5 feet away from you why are you asking me Any of this

R: .......dude do you want him to die??? I thought he was gonna have an aneurysm when I first told him I found his forbidden sketchbook, and he had one foot in the grave by the time he gave up that blog name. if I ask for more details directly he might just vanish from this plane of existence. we gotta be Delicate

S: you've never been delicate in your fucking life

-

R: maybe he's tired all the time because he expends all his energy in secret. I mean I've never caught him drawing in that sketchbook and Also never caught him jacking off. coincidence? I Think The Fuck Not

S: go to sleep Richard

-

R: I gotta admit......for not having any reaction to hen tie jokes he makes good tentacle porn

S: they're vines

R: ok sure but I'm not gonna say "vine porn" that just sounds like 6 second videos of—

S: and it's hardly porn. this is some aesthetic shit

R: ......buddy if I can get off on it, it's porn

S: you can get off on anything your opinion doesn't fucking count. you could get off on two lines of shitty chicken scratch in a bathroom stall.

R: you underestimate me. I can even get off on Nothing thanks to all the memories you've given me

S: compliments won't make me change my mind

-

R: what if like—

S: you know what? give me his number. I'll fucking ask him myself

R: .....my heart says don't do this, Will is already suffering. but my hand says 618-555-0189

S: you sure took a lot of convincing

—

Stan was just gonna message Will real briefly (preferably like a Normal Person who Didn't have memories of old posts/tags Will had probably forgotten he ever typed), see if he could get a couple of Richie's dumb questions answered, and then leave him alone. clearly that didn't happen. they bonded over roasting Richie.

if you want to know the general vibe of what's going on in Will's art, just think of various ways to be trapped/restrained.

for instance like the vines that caught Hopper in s2. or for clown reference, there's also "spiderwebs" but it's visually more like that corpse pile at the end of s1 that Will was stuck in. so it's "hardly porn" in that yeah there's no fucking, and it does have An Aesthetic, but like....you're not gonna make it your phone lockscreen and try to convince some random person who sees it that it's 100% sfw.

it's vent porn in that he draws when he feels Some Kind Of Way but he tends not to draw the faces of whoever/whatever is restrained. but when he does, it could be any kind of emotion. whether it's panicked or defiant or just resigned or even out cold. or something else.

[bookishjules]

2, 4 and 12? <3

2. what are some of the things that have made you who you are?

dude i'm too introspective for this shit.. um. yes. yeah. everything. [insert paragraph listing shit that i did write but decided to replace with..] one specific example though, was my 3rd-5th grade teacher (so i had her from ages 9-11) who learned early on that i was a perfectionist and took it upon herself to break that part of me. she would sit me in the hall alone with my final drafts of essays or whatever, which had to be in cursive, and give me the goal of timing myself by the minute and writing more words than i had in the previous minute. and that's just the quickest example i can recall.. i swear that woman made me cry multiple times but i will always appreciate her dedication to breaking as much of that piece of me as she could bc lord knows i wouldn't have survived otherwise

4. share a dark thought? (go on, vent a little)

i've been feeling a lot recently like i'm buried beneath concrete. like i'm stuck where i am in more ways than one. and i'm worried i'm never going to be able to escape again. it makes my skin itch and my brain go to dark places. i can't see any sort of exit hatch and tbh my trust that there's any light at the end of the tunnel has grown so thin..

12. something you want to monologue about?

the other day i overheard a man say to his daughter something about how guys don't have as close of friendships bc they're waiting for a girl to idk share life with or devote themselves to or whatever (i can't remember exactly) but it made me want to turn and deliver the longest argument for why that is an absolutely asinine take and why he shouldn't be cheerfully perpetuating the idea that men being vulnerable with each other idk isn't in their nature or whatever. so yeah. i would love to monologue about that, along with many other things i'm sure lol

ask game that past jules insisted i do, not knowing it would post from my queue two (2) days after the election when i didn't have much energy at all let alone that required to answer question 4

[laurelsofhighever]

Writer’s Year-End Roundup!

I was tagged by the lovely @asaara-writes and I’m going to cop out and tag anyone who wants to do this and hasn’t already XD

Overall, 2022 was a good year. I finally sorted my ideas out enough to get back to longfic. Mostly it was about planning but since that came easily in places I’ve also started proper writing, and as of today, I’m 12 chapters into my Prince Alistair AU and just about ready to start posting.

Outside Dragon Age, DOTA; Dragon’s Blood season 3 gave me some lovely inspiration and I’m pretty proud of te work I did there. The Wayhaven Chronicles also gripped me tight and would not let go, and aside from some solid oneshots I’m now pretty much halfway through the first murder mystery story I’ve ever attempted, complete with vampires. It’s been a lot of fun reconnecting with all the characters I’ve written about in this last year, especially since 2021 was still mostly spent in a nice creative primordial soup waiting for ideas to coalesce.

Special mention to the print version of Falcon, which is a project I started last year and hope to get finished this year so it can sit and look pretty on my shelf.

Words written: 75,307, of which 29,562 has been published. This isn’t as much as I was expecting considering how many hours it feels I’ve put in, but 1) it’s still the length of a pretty hefty novel and 2) I haven’t counted all the words that are just planning or notebook scribbling, so it’s actually a heck of a lot more.

New things I tried: The biggest new thing is the venture into the murder mystery genre with Like Glitter And Gold. Having to work backwards from the crime to the clues meant the whole story has had to be much tighter than I’m used to in terms of detail, which meant having a much more invested plan and many, many conspiracy board diagrams before I could actually start to write. It’s been fun, though. Apart from that, I’ve learned that I’m most efficient when I plan out a rough script for a chapter first and then try to fill it in, instead of writing a detailed draft on the first try. I’ll definitely use this going forward and hopefully it means I’ll have a bigger wordcount for next year.

Fic I spent the most time on: My Prince Alistair AU for sure. Partly because I’m having to replay the game to refresh my memory of the events and transcribe then rearrange a lot of the dialogue, but also because it’s given me a lot of problems with the structure. It’s also how I found out I don’t so well trying to make a polished first draft. Also also, Dragon Age: Origins is a ridiculously long game, with so much talking - 35k words in, and they’ve only just left Lothering!

Fic I spent the least time on: I always feel miserable on my birthday, so this year I channelled that energy into Once More Around The Sun, a Nate x Detective Leah oneshot that I pushed out in a day. Except for the epistolary chapter of Falcon, it’s the most I’ve ever written in a single day, so I’m pretty proud of it. Happy Birthday to me.

Favourite thing I wrote: I’m pretty pleased with everything I’ve written for TWC this year, in particular So Let Us Melt, And Make No Noise, a fluffy, angsty oneshot, and Like Glitter And Gold, the murder mystery longfic, because it’s been something new for me.

Favourite thing I read: New Year’s Resolution: actually bookmark fics when you like them! I have binged works by @serenpedac (TWC), @tarysande (Shakarian), and @viciously-witty (Labyrinth), and very early in the year I finally got around to The Revelation In All Things by @ellenembee, which is one of the most we thought out Cullen x Lavellan fics I’ve read. In terms of published works, I actually read published stuff this year! Highlights include The Lies of Locke Lamora, Nightwatch, Sistersong, and Ivanhoe.

Writing goals for next year: Finish the remaster and print version of Falcon so I can finally put it on my shelf, finish LG&G, finally start a proper first draft of my Post-Blight story, make separate masterposts for Dragon Age and everything else to pin to each of my blogs, and streamline the way I plot for the Prince Alistair AU. Should be simple enough...

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Descendants x Fem!Reader - Daughter of Hades

A/n: This has been in my drafts for ages but I don’t have the energy to finish it, sorry

What happens when the daughter of Sleeping Beauty falls for the daughter of Hades? Audrey Rose is left to question everything she’s been told by her family as soon as her eyes land on you and her heart flutters in a way she’s never felt around her betrothed? How will trying to ignore this curiously effect her? Will she even ignore it or will she act on it? Stray from the path her grandmother put her on the day she was born?

///

You were born on the Isle after Hades left Maleficent, leaving his daughter, Mal with her as he fell for another, a mortal. Hades was a god after all but he fell for her. That love resulted in you and your younger brother, Hadie before your mother died of complications from his birth, the lack of healthcare on the Isle being detrimental to that. 

You barely remember your mother besides the warmth of her hugs, her voice and face long forgotten. There were no photos or drawings of her and your father didn’t speak of her, you weren’t sure if he had moved on but you knew Hadie blamed himself. You didn’t blame your brother, you couldn’t. You blamed Auradon instead.

You and Hadie were raised solely by your father although he often asked his errand runner, Celia Facilier about Maleficent’s daughter causing you and Hadie to put two and two together although, neither of you confronted her or your father about that. The two of you were attached to each other, having to deal with your father’s antics about how he used to be a god and his dancing and singing.

“Mom, dad, I’ve chosen my first official proclamation... I have decided that the children on the Isle of the Lost, should be given a chance, to live here in Auradon...” Prince Ben announced to his parents.

“The children of our sworn enemies, living among us-”

“We start out with only a few at first, the ones who need our help the most, I’ve already chosen them...”

“Who are their parents?”

“Cruella De Vil, Jafar, Evil Queen, Hades and... Maleficent...”

///

So of course when you were selected to go to Auradon Prep without your brother you wanted to refuse but your father convinced your otherwise since he wanted a way off the island because he didn’t belong there and neither did the two of you. He would always say that and you’d believe him. Hadie was mad at first until you stated you’d fight for him to be brought next and that you’d bug Prince Ben about it until he did.

“I don’t want to leave you.” You admitted one night, standing in the caves as Hadie threw a broken bouncy ball up and down. It as more of half a bouncy ball but it still bounced so he kept it. You fiddled with the shell bracelet on your wrist, the matching one on your brother’s as he glared at you. “Dad wants you to go.” Hadie grumbled making you sigh. “He wants a way off the island, remember, ‘I used to be a god!’ and ‘we don’t belong here’ he’d yell at the barrier...” You replied making Hadie puff out air through his nose at your imitation of your father yelling.

“I don’t want to be there without you... I’ll fight for you to be brought across next if Mal and her friends don’t destroy Auradon... I’ll bug Prince Ben until he brings you across, mention how he’s an only child that has no idea about leaving a sibling behind, y’know, manipulate and guilt-trip?”

“You sound like Mal but okay...” Hadie replied after a few minutes of silence causing you to smile slightly. “Finally get some clean piercings hopefully...” You mumbled causing Hadie to sit up. “Tattoo as well?” He asked almost excitedly.

“If the healthcare here was better I’d risk them here but I don’t want a deadly infection... healthcare sucks... another thing I’ll guilt trip Prince Benjamin about.” You sighed, noticing Hadie tense up for a moment causing you to put your hand on his shoulder.

Your father also warned you Maleficent will have tasked the Core Four with something, probably Fairy Godmother’s wand and just to be careful. You raised an eyebrow at that before remembering he couldn’t stand her so you shrugged it off.

“Y/n, be careful... that... eughh... Maleficent will have tasked the others to get Fairy Godmother’s wand... be careful...” You father whispered to you before he pressed something into your hand causing you to frown.

“Is this?”

“Your quarter of it. You’re only half Hades so it won’t do everything the whole ember would do for me...” You just nodded at this, taking the crystal quarter on the string to put around your neck like a necklace.

You hugged him causing him to tense slightly before Hadie coughed making you smile as you hugged him as well. Only in the mines. That was the rule. Outside the mines you two were bad. No hugging outside the mines. 

“The limo is outside Maleficent’s place...” Hadie explained, noticing how your father had retreated further into the mines with a light laugh as you rolled your eyes. The two of you heading to the exit, the other way.

///

The realisation that you were about to be separated from the only family you had left finally hit as you stared at the limo, Carlos running past to avoid his mother as Mal lingered behind to make intense eye contact with her mother. You tensed as Maleficent’s eyes landed on you for a second as you tossed your bag, a leather mess you’d sewn together from scraps to make a bag... you weren’t as good as Evie but you didn’t dare ask Evie to make you anything in case you ran into her mother or Maleficent.

You were about to get into the limo when Hadie put something in your hand, nudging you inside with a blank look. He was playing a facade like he didn’t care but you knew he was breaking as you sat in the limo and looked at what he had.

Working cameras were rare on the Isle but once, Hadie found a polaroid camera with one photo unused in it so he used it to take a photo with you. The only photo the two of you had of each other. You let out a sigh before slipping it into a hidden pocket in your navy jacket, ignoring the glances you were getting from Evie and Mal before you heard it.

“Look!” Evie screamed making you look out the window, realising the limo was heading straight over the cliffs.

“It’s a trap!” Carlos yelled, jumping into Jay’s arms as you clung to the sides of the car, bracing for an impact that never came. You opened your eyes to see the golden light of the bridge connecting the Isle to Auradon, releasing the breath you were holding. Holy shit.

///

To say that the daughter of Sleeping Beauty was not looking forward to today was correct. Even though her boyfriend was Prince Ben, the future king of Auradon and it was his decision, she didn’t agree with it. Bringing the children of her parents and everyone else’s parents sworn enemies to live among them? Unthinkable. 

Her dreams didn’t help the matter, continuous dreams of a girl who was definitely not from Auradon threw her off guard but she didn’t dare mention it to anyone. What would they say?

She wasn’t aware of who Ben had even chosen. 5 of them apparently. 5 villain kids in Auradon. What was the world coming too? She wondered as she followed Ben out to where the limo was going to pull up.

“So who are their parents anyway, Benny-Boo?” She asked causing Ben to lightly smile before swallowing. “Cruella De Vil, Jafar, Evil Queen, Hades and... Maleficent...” She didn’t even have time to react to that as the limo was pulling up into view and the band had began to play the welcome wagon.

///

You let out a breath as you chewed on a blue chewy sweet of some sort, the blue colour calming you although your jaw ached slightly at how chewy the thing was. The tingly sour flavour was nice too. Better than the taste of whatever food had been thrown over to the Isle from Auradon.

You slipped a few more of the chewy things into your pocket, licking the remnants of the sweet powder from your fingers. Maybe you could find out what they were... did they have lots in Auradon? Did they all have the tingly flavour and blue colour? Whatever they were, you liked them, glaring at Jay tried to grab one causing you to pull the bowl away, moving seats closer to Evie who just gave you a small smile before remembering not to smile as according to her mother, smiling caused wrinkles. You often would joke with Hadie that frowning did too.

You paused at this, staring at the small blue sphere held between your thumb and forefinger before you put it in your mouth. You wished Hadie could try them too. Glancing up, you realised the limo was slowing down causing you to pour the bowl of sweets leftover into your pocket, zipping it up to keep them hidden. 

You ignored how Mal and Evie exchanged a look at that before the limo stopped, you moved to get out behind Evie and Mal, dodging Carlos and Jay as they began to fight over a ripped out curtain. Or was it the limo carpeting? Who knows?

“Leave it how you found it... in by that I mean leave it.” A woman who radiated goodness stated causing Jay to frown, throwing everything he was planning on stealing back in the limo. Your eyes were trained on Mal asking about the wand to Fairy Godmother before getting completely deflected causing you to stifle a laugh before the Prince began to speak.

You stopped looking at Mal when he approached, you shook his hand lightly, quickly letting go as your eyes landed on his girlfriend who had stopped talking in the middle of her sentence to Mal as soon as her eyes landed on you. You raised an eyebrow at that before she and Mal continued to bicker back and forth as you were all led inside Auradon Prep.

///

Audrey watched as the five villain kids got out of the limo, the two boys fighting each other over a piece of cloth like animals as the three girls stood, two trying to get them to stop them another just standing there, looking completely done. She could relate to that one.

Of course Ben didn’t care they were trying to steal things before even getting out of the limo as Fairy Godmother spoke, reminding them of curfews which they probably haven’t even heard of before. She followed as Ben tried to shake hands with each kid, withholding a scowl as Ben paused, staring at Maleficent’s daughter before moving onto the son of Cruella De Vil, daughter of Evil Queen and the daughter of...Hades.

“Hey! You’re Maleficent’s daughter aren’t you? Yeah, you know what,  I totally don’t blame you for your mother from trying to kill my parents and stuff...” She trailed off as she made eye-contact with you, the pieces falling into place and realisation struck her as you raised an eyebrow. She cleared her throat, trying to ignore how much her heart fluttered as she met your eyes.

“Oh my mom’s, Aurora, Sleeping-”

“Beauty. Yeah, I’ve heard the name...” Mal finished, the look on her face making you glance between her and Mal before Ben interrupted, beginning the tour of Auradon Prep.

She raised an eyebrow as she watched you sneak a blue raspberry bonbon from your pocket to your mouth before she felt her body warm at the little smile you made at the taste. No. No. No. Why was she feeling this about you? Only Ben should make her feel this way. No. Conceal. Don’t feel. Whatever Queen Elsa used to say.

///

You followed as the Core Four interacted with everyone, your eyes lingering over Sleeping Beauty’s daughter as she kept her eyes on you before you winked at her, slipping a blue sphere into your mouth. You still didn’t know what they were called.

You rolled your eyes again as Mal asked about the magic wand. She was not subtle at all as you rolled your eyes.

“Our royal blood goes back hundreds of years...” you rolled your eyes more at that. They act like being royal makes them the heroes but those heroes let people suffer on an island prison, innocent or not, that island is barely livable. It wasn’t talked about but every winter there was a risk to people’s health and lives. People could get sick and recover whilst some didn’t and would pass away. Auradon did nothing to help this.

Your face was aching at the amount you’d raised your eyebrows today and to think, you did that a lot on a day to day basis on the Isle whenever your dad decided to burst into song or dance with that stupid tambourine. Your eyes met Audrey’s again causing you to give her a slight smile, ignoring the fake one she kept throwing and getting back from Mal.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

Why did that sound like he was only talking to Mal? You wondered as you stood next to Doug as the others walked off in the wrong direction.

You laughed quietly at your schedule. Remedial Goodness 101. Safety Rules for the Internet... oh yeah, Auradon had internet...

Evie and Mal went to their room and Jay and Carlos went to theirs, leaving you to walk into yours. You grimaced at the pink decor, muttering about gender socialisation under your breath as you shut the curtains, grabbing your bag to go through it on your bed. It was a one bed room, probably a lot smaller than the others who were sharing but you didn’t really mind.

Your bag didn’t have much in it besides spare clothes and a couple of personal items. You sighed as you glanced around, picking up a glass bowl and tossing its content in the bin before replacing it with the sweets you’d taken earlier. Your fingers touched your piece of the ember as you spoke under your breath, tugging up a loose floorboard to find the gap. You sighed as you picked up the box from the desk, placing your personal belongings like the polaroid photo from Hadie in the box, the box in the gap, the floorboard over the gap then the rug over the floorboard, casting a spell under your breath so only you could find the hidden. 

Nothing was more powerful than the ember and this piece of ember was loyal to you and you alone. Mal would not be able to find your things if she raided your room. You didn’t trust her. Because what child of Maleficent who happens to be your half-sister could be trusted? Your father left her with Maleficent to be raised... god knows what happened to her growing up...

///

You spent the rest of the day exploring, wandering around trying to find a music room or the library. The students would avoid you like the plague, they were scared of the bad girl in navy leather, ripped denim and fishnets. You rolled your eyes at them, waving sarcastically at some before you spotted the Core Four running off, causing you to want to follow.

The Museum of Cultural History... jeez

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mal asked as she realised you were following. You just shrugged, following them into the museum, you disappeared automatically spotting the area dedicated to Greek history, the stories of Zeus and Poseidon there before you froze, staring at a version of your father you’d never seen or known. Hades as Greek God of the Underworld.

“Dad?” You whispered quietly, staring at the statue before reading the plaque about how he tried to kill Hercules and how he was dragged into the depths of the River Styx. You frowned, remembering how they revived all the villains to suffer on the Isle. You rolled your eyes. And they call us the villains?

You tensed as the alarms began to go off, ducking to hide from the guard before you spotted Carlos on the phone, running towards him as he turned off the alarms and called a false alarm before following him out of the museum.

“Way to go Jay! Now we have to go to school tomorrow!” Mal complained as the five of you sprinted away from the museum.

///

You grimaced as you walked into Remedial Goodness 101, sitting on the other side of Evie as the boys sat together and Mal was on Evie’s left. You sighed as you got your stuff out, ready to be bored. You did what you did on the Isle for you and Hadie to survive when you were younger then when Hadie was old enough the two of you would head out together to survive.

Why the hell would you carve out the heart of a crying baby? That’s disgusting. Of course your father steals souls... mmm... okay...

You rolled your eyes at Evie’s answer and how Mal was treating the class. Honestly it was an easy class with how Fairy Godmother was treating the five of you like you were children. You were all 16 or approaching it. That reminded you, who makes the King a 16 year old?

You scowled at your papers as you continued to formulate arguments and debates to throw at Ben before you remembered how Sleeping Beauty’s daughter kept watching you. She probably wanted you expelled and sent back to the Isle... You didn’t even process Fairy Godmother’s daughter Jane entering and leaving with squeaks and squeals of fear.

///

You were sat on the bleachers watching the Tourney practice as you continued to write, tugging library books out from your backpack to help before you looked up to see Jay raising hell on the field. You grimaced as he used Carlos and his shield as a spring-board to jump before he knocked over more people then scored.

You covered your mouth to laugh as you saw Audrey’s face compared to the rest of the cheerleaders, god she hated the five of you but it just made you laugh. She knew nothing about you or Mal or Evie or Carlos or Jay. You paused as you made direct eye contact with a grumpy Audrey, sarcastically waving until she turned away, acting like she didn’t see you. That made you laugh more. Firecracker. You whispered under your breath before continuing with your work.

///

Audrey didn’t like this. Not one bit. You made her feel things she’d never felt before and she’d never even spoken to you. Seeing you made her heart flip and her knees weak, watching as you observed the Tourney game before looking directly at her, sarcastically waving. She turned around to ignore you, even if it made her heart ache to turn away. She didn’t know why and she didn’t want to know why. Ben was the only one who should make her feel this way. Not you. The son of King Beast and Queen Belle not the daughter of Hades, former Greek God of the Underworld.

You were leaning on the wall opposite the lockers, reading another book as Audrey, Chad and Ben exited the classroom, spotting Mal at her graffiti-ed locker before seeing you, reading.

Her smile dropped as she spotted you, the bubbling in her stomach making her nervous before directing her attention on Chad and Ben.

“Those kids are trouble.” Chad growled, gesturing at Mal and Evie before Audrey glanced at you, tensing as you looked up, raising an eyebrow before continuing to read.

///

You wanted to gag as you saw how Audrey and Ben acted. Ben was a spineless golden retriever who clearly had a thing for Mal but wasn’t going to tell Audrey that. All that goodness gave him a weak spine. You rolled your eyes, continuing to read as you watched her walk away with her pink sunglasses on. You smirked, remembering how your dad wore sunglasses so you couldn’t tell he was asleep.

You let out a groan as you realised your next class: Greek History. Did they want to torment you or something? You glared as you remembered how bias the stories were, Hercules defeating your father and all that. He steals souls what the hell was Hercules expecting?

You stood in the doorway awkwardly as you waited for the teacher to acknowledge your existence, telling you to take the seat next to Audrey who looked like she was going to be sick as you sat down, shuffling your seat away to give her space. She ignored you the entire lesson as you focused on staying calm as the lessons began to try insult or cast a bad light on your father. Your non-dominant hand moved from the table to under it before you jumped slightly at the hand gently gripping yours, a thumb running over your knuckles.

///

Audrey didn’t know what came over her as she saw the way you were trying to keep calm in class. She didn’t want to be sat next to a VK especially one who made her feel... things she wasn’t supposed to feel. The urge to hold your hand to calm you down ran over her before she could even process and stop herself, noticing how your shoulders relaxed before she realised what she was doing as her thumb ran over your knuckles.

The warm fuzzy feeling moved from her chest to her entire body making her overthink. Had you put a spell on her? No, she loved Ben, this was just bad girl infatuation and intrigue. It had to be. She was a princess who was to marry a prince, The Prince Ben, the future King of Auradon. Not you, a child of a villain, the daughter of Hades, former God of the Underworld... did that make you a demigod? No, why did that matter? Why does she care? You’re no-one, you’re nothing to her.

///

Audrey released your hand abruptly, you could tell she was resisting the urge to glare daggers as the class ended. You rolled your eyes, probably too unladylike to glare at someone. You watched as she walked out of class acting like nothing happened whilst you just shrugged, picking up your notes which had angry scribbles on thanks to the complete bias Auradon has over your father. It was your father’s literal job to steal souls and now the scissors of fate were in the cultural history museum unused. Had nobody really died in Auradon in 20 years? Whatever happened to that Circle of Life mumbo-jumbo and death being a part of it? They brought back the dead villains to suffer on the Isle yet people can still die on the Isle whilst the people of Auradon could live and be healthy? Inequality at its finest.

///

You decided to walk across the Tourney field when you spotted Evie and Chad under the bleachers, Chad being dramatic and an airhead before you spotted Doug talking to Evie, carefully approaching to hear about the coronation. Fairy Godmother’s wand would be used for the coronation... no doubt Mal would grab the wand and bring down the barrier, releasing all the parents and kids on the Isle but at what cost to Auradon? It would be turned into a larger version of the Isle... but the people of Auradon let the people on the Isle suffer for 20 years as they lived in prosperity and happiness.

You just sighed as you watched Evie walk away with Chad’s backpack of homework, giving him a glare as you made eye contact with him, unaware of how your eyes glowed a fiery blue for a moment before continuing to walk back to your dorm to study. 

The door to Evie and Mal’s room was open as you peeked in, raising an eyebrow at Lonnie, daughter of Mulan and Jane, Fairy Godmother’s daughter, were ripping their skirts and had completely different hairstyles. You shook your head, immediately knowing where it was going as you continued to walk to your room, not realising the door opened on its own as the piece of ember around your neck glowed and the door flew open as you entered. Slamming the door behind you as you began to research Fairy Godmother’s wand.

You jaw dropped in astonishment as you read over the passage. Each heir brought into the title of Monarch in the coronation where Fairy Godmother blesses the heir with her wand... Prince Ben’s coronation was in less than a month...

You almost fell out of your seat at the knocking at the door, quickly hurrying over to answer it with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, Y/n, I didn’t see you today or before, how was your first day by the way? Do you have any questions about anything?” Prince Ben asked as he stood in the doorway.

“Honestly I have a list in priority order but you’re probably too busy with your upcoming coronation that the whole school goes to.” You replied, folding your arms across your body as Ben’s face lit up. “No, no, I’d like to see this list of yours.” Ben cheered causing you to pause as you reached for it.

“You’re actually going to read it instead of taking it and ripping it up or something, right?” You asked as you passed Ben the list. Ben frowned at your reaction. “Why would I do that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because it’s what people would do on the Isle... Hadie didn’t though.” You replied, lounging on your bed as Ben read the list.

“Hadie’s your brother isn’t he? Named after your father, Hades?” Ben asked causing you to nod. “He’s in every memory I have...” You mumbled, fingers running over your elbow in thought.

“Is it really that bad on the island? There’s no healthcare?” Ben enquired causing you to glare. “Maybe if there was my mother wouldn’t have died in childbirth and half the people I knew growing up wouldn’t have died from illness, especially in the winter. If someone gets sick you hold your breath and hope they wake up the next day...” You trailed off, wiping a tear from your eye in disgust of your vulnerability. 

“You can go now. Please.” You stated, nudging Ben out the door.

“Thank you- for the list...” Ben began but you shut the door on him, sliding down the back of it with tears streaming down your face. You missed Hadie. You missed your father. You missed your mother.

That was the difference between you and your half-sister. Mal never cries but you are capable of it...

You had no idea Audrey was lingering outside, listening to the conversation before ducking out of sight as Ben walked down the corridor with the list in hand. Had it been any other VK giving Ben lists she would have grabbed it and scrunched it up but she couldn’t...

Did you put a spell on her?

///

You grimaced as you sat down on an empty bench, watching all the girls with their new hair wave at Mal who waved back. It was weird seeing all these girls with the same hairstyle as Mal but at least Mal was the only purple one. You glanced up to meet Audrey’s eyes as they ran over the girls with their magic hair. Was that jealousy in her eyes or insecurity?

You were so focused on Audrey you didn’t see Mal and Jay talking or Mal approaching Ben with something in a plastic bag until Audrey was out of sight. You packed your stuff up quickly, hurrying to the steps so you could overhear from behind Ben.

“Mal have you always had those little golden flecks in your eyes?” If you were drinking something when you heard Ben say that you would have spat it.

“I feel like... I feel like... like singing your name, MAAA-” Ben was cut off by Mal’s hand going over his mouth to stop him from singing as you walked over to stand by Carlos and Evie.

“It’s not going to slowly kill him is it?” You asked quietly causing Carlos to pause and glance at Evie who shook her head. 

///

Your eyes lingered on the head cheerleader dancing with the horse mascot happily before Jay and Carlos were brought into play, a smirk on your lips as Carlos managed to knock someone over twice before cheering as Ben scored.

Your slammed your jaw painfully as Ben snatched the microphone, calling for everyone’s attention. You raised an eyebrow at this, glancing to Evie who was on your right. “Oh gods.” You whispered under your breath.

“Give me an M!”

“Give me an A!”

“Give me an L!”

You didn’t follow the wishes of the Prince as your eyes lingered on Audrey who was grinning with happiness at what Ben was doing until she realised. The panic on her face broke you as you stood up, eyes following her as she ran away from the tourney field. You were pretty sure you heard some people laughing at Audrey’s reaction but Evie just nudged you and gestured to your hair causing you to frown until you put your hands on your head and felt warmth.

Your hair set on fire. Huh... that’s new.

///

The first thing Audrey did was run and hide. Mascara running as whimpers escaped her lips, hiding under the bleachers away from everyone as it hit her. Ben just publicly humiliated her and declared he was in love with Mal instead of her in the process. Then Chad shows up, worried. 

The second thing Audrey does is save face.

///

“Chad’s my boyfriend now and I’m going to the coronation with him. So I don’t need your pity date.” Audrey’s eyes lingered over the new couple and you. You weren’t familar with the sick feeling in your stomach as Audrey made out with Chad before Ben stole the microphone back and asked Mal to go to the coronation with him.

You watched Audrey walk off with Chad at her heels, the sad look on your face and Evie’s causing Mal to look alarmed.

“I feel really sorry for Audrey.” Mal announced, putting her foot in it as you glared, eyes flickering blue for a moment before you started to walk off.

“I feel like if she was ever talented like you and she knew how to sew and knew beauty tips, that she wouldn’t need a prince to make her feel better about herself...”

You were long gone back to your room by then, heading straight to the secret compartment in your floor to find the photo of you and Hadie, gripping your piece of the ember tightly as it glowed.

///

Hadie paused in his guitar playing as his piece of ember began to glow from the necklace he had on around his neck. “Y/n?” He whispered, gripping the ember as its glow reflected on his chipped nail polish.

///

The problem with kissing Chad as Audrey found was that she didn’t want to kiss him. Plus, every time she did kiss him, she wished it was you she was kissing. But A) this was not allowed, princesses are only allowed to kiss princes and B) You’re a VK and the daughter of Hades... is a demigod better than a prince? 

Technically you could be a princess, your father being God of the Dead and King of the Underworld in some passages of the Greek History textbooks whilst he’s God of the Underworld in other ones... you were also related to Princess Ariel then...

Audrey was distracted momentarily from her thoughts on your family tree as you sat down at the desk next to her, your essay on the table causing her to stare. A+.

Just how did a villain kid get an A+?

///

You grimaced at the marked essay on your desk, glancing over the comments made under the grade. You’d gone to town using what your father had taught you to argue against Auradon’s teachings and used the details he provided to expand upon things even the textbooks didn’t include.

You glanced up to meet Audrey’s eyes before she looked away like just looking at you could cause her physical pain. You rolled your eyes at this, continuing to write notes on the lesson. You still hated the class but you liked to imagine your father’s face as you argued everything Auradon would teach with real facts from a real source. The God of the Underworld himself... or he used to be anyway. You and Hadie could do pretty decent impressions of your angry father, both energetically screaming “I used to be a god!” to make each other laugh.

///

You laid in bed staring at the ceiling with your fingers wrapped around the shard of ember, reflecting on your memories of the Isle The good, the bad and the ugly.

None of the villains were capable of living on the Isle without magic. Your father included. What were you supposed to do if Mal’s plan failed?

///

She kept trying to kiss Chad and erase the thought of you from her mind but she couldn’t get you out of her head... she’d have to ask her aunts, her mother’s fairy godmothers if there was a spell on her or if it was something worse?

///

You grimaced as Fairy Godmother spoke, explaining how with it being Family Day, she’d managed to get a video call to the parents of Evie, Mal, Carlos and Jay but she gave you a sad look that you understood, you just nodded and began to grab your stuff to leave.

“Wait, what? Your dad doesn’t want to talk to you?” Evie asked causing you to pause as you gripped the strap of your backpack.

“My dad can’t stand your parents and Hadie’s Hadie. Probably mad I left him behind.” You lied through your teeth there but somehow they bought it as you went to leave. Tears blossomed in your eyes as you realised your dad and brother didn’t want to speak to you because they didn’t want to be anywhere near Maleficent... talking to you wasn’t a good enough excuse to be near the woman.

You landed on the floor with a thud as you crashed into someone. You stared up at the person whose face melted from anger to confusion as you swiped away a loose tear that cascaded down your cheek like it was a speck of dirt.

You didn’t speak as you pushed yourself off the floor, ignoring Audrey’s eyes as you picked up your stuff and kept walking. 

///

Audrey frowned as she stood above you, who was lying on the ground. You were...crying? Villain kids can cry? Wait, Ben said the villain kids get a special treat and a video chat with their parents because of family day... why were you crying?

But that didn’t matter as she realised the time and hurried to her dorm to prepare for family day, her grandmother was visiting after all.

///

You didn’t really want to attend the family day celebrations in case you ran into Hercules and his family but Evie showed up with some dark blue and black attire for you to wear and well... it looked good.

You also wanted to avoid Audrey and Chad so you stood on the balcony next to Evie but didn’t come down to join. Your fingers ran over the shard of ember, not realising how it was linked to Hadie’s piece as you overthought everything and watched Audrey sing and dance.

You automatically began to move as the family day turned to chaos, Queen Leah, Audrey’s grandmother, insulting Mal before Chad got in the way, calling Mal a boyfriend stealer, Evie a golddigger and claiming that Jay enjoyed hurting people before he turned to you.

“How do we know she’s not going to try send us to the underworld on behalf of her father?” Chad asked causing you to sarcastically pout.

“It’s in my father’s job description as God of the Underworld. He steals souls, were you expecting flowers?” You asked causing Herkie to glare at you as you glared back. You saw Chad drop to the ground from the corner of your eye as Herkie shoved you back onto the grass.

You didn’t mean to cause that small lawn fire but you were angry and done as you followed the other four away from the Auradonians.

You didn’t see how Audrey was watching you whilst everyone else tried to wake Chad up.

///

Audrey frowned as she realised you were not sat with the other villain kids at their table, glaring at everyone. Where did you go? Why did she even care?

///

You stood on the empty tourney field, glaring angrily at the grass with a steel grip on the ember shard, feeling how it glowed with your rage before a meow caught your attention.

A small black cat appeared from the spot you’d been staring at, the ground closing up underneath it as you realised what happened. You summoned a cat from the underworld.

“And who are you?” You whispered under your breath as you put your hand out for the cat to sniff, the bone collar rattling with each movement as you felt the cat’s soul connect with yours.

“Styx? Like the river?” You asked before the cat yowled for you to follow as you ran after it.

“Get back here, Styx!” You shouted, realising where the cat was heading as it jumped onto Mal’s table causing Carlos and Dude to jump.

“A cat?”

“Is that bones around its neck?”

“Styx!” You shouted, arriving on the scene to Audrey and Jane about to torment Mal. 

“Where’s the cat from?” Evie quietly asked, gently putting her hand out for Styx to sniff. “The underworld...” You whispered, sitting down and making direct eye contact with Audrey as Styx turned to stare at her with her bright yellow eyes, tail swishing side to side in judgement.

You glared at the cat as it turned to look at you, realising Styx was judging you for your crush on the brunette. What crush? Since when?

You looked up at Jane’s scream and Mal’s threats as Audrey made eye contact with you. You blanked her as you picked up Styx who jumped to sit on your shoulder as you walked away next to Evie.

Ben’s coronation was coming up.

[peaches-writes]

penalty kick

description: maybe you got off on the wrong foot...actually, jisung did actually pushed you off the wrong foot.  member: jisung / han  genre: fluff, slice of life, coming of age, childhood frenemies / rivals to lovers au, idiots to lovers au, neighbor au, high school au, college au, lil dashes of soccer baseball musician & campus dj au bc jisung ace, female reader, off-season universe (mc from naturally is jeoyeon, mc from tumbles & turns is bora, and mc from off-season is kira hek)  word count: 12k warnings: explicit language, alcohol (a tiny mention of underage drinking pls drink responsibly!), mentions of injuries, jisung issa lil dumb & a lil shit but issokay hes an adorable lil shit note: @crscendoforsung so i scraped the witch jisung au (but i’ll come back to it in the future maybe it’s still in my drafts lol) so here is dumbass jisung for now + im away on christmas day so here’s my gift a day in advanced lmao

Age four. Your neighbor and favorite playmate, Han Jisung, pushed you so hard on the swings at your neighbourhood playground that you literally flew out of your plastic curved seat and bruised your knees, elbows, and chin. 

Maybe you did had it coming from continuously complaining that he ‘pushed like a sissy’ and even standing up on the swing set just to brag that you can balance all of your body weight on such flimsy material. Maybe your neighbor has always had a secret grudge on you finally enacted through this incident. Either way, the next thing you knew, a wide-eyed Jisung was on your side alternating between calling for adult help, crying over your bruises, and muttering curses he probably heard from his older brother under his breath. 

“Shit, shit shit...” He squeaked out frantically in his tiny voice, gently moving you to a sitting position on the stone pavement and dusting the dirt off of your bleeding injuries despite your loud complaints that your entire body was hurting. Looking around your surroundings, his breath then got caught up in his throat at seeing your mother fast-approaching with a mix of furious and worried in her expression. “Auntie! Help!” 

Your mother was hovering over you in an instant, examining your bruises with furrowed brows and clenched teeth. “Ah, dear God, what happened here?!” She exclaimed in a scolding tone, piercing gaze darting between your tearful eyes and Jisung’s panicked ones. “Jisung, did you do this?” 

“It was an accident auntie!” The boy in question answered immediately as he shook his head nervously and scooted away with his hands up in defense. “It was an accident, I promise!” 

However, with your back turned to him then, you naturally had a different impression of the incident as you quickly retorted, “He pushed me, mommy! He pushed me off of the swing!” 

Your mother never made any clear indication that she believed you as she simply shook your head and lifted you by your shoulders and knees, carrying you to a nearby bench to treat your wounds. 

Angered by your outburst, Jisung reluctantly followed you and your mother to the bench then glared at you until your injuries were cleaned and bandaged. With his arms crossed and a permanent frown bordering a pout on his lips, he stood next to you in his attempt at looking visibly angry for a puny five-year-old while you hissed and whined in pain the entire time. 

What’s worse is that his own mother made him apologize by sending him off to the nearest convenience store to buy you apple juice and steamed buns. Because of this, you’ve been mortal enemies, rivals, each other’s designated future potential killer, whatever you want to call it ever since.

Age seven. Han Jisung helped perpetuate a wild rumour that you and the rest of the class’ female population had ‘cooties.’ 

It’s only natural for boys at this age to gravitate to similar actions, of course. After all, you’ve heard worse from boys in the other classes (read: Hwang Hyunjin crying and demanding to get sent home because a girl kissed him on the cheek on the first day of classes). It’s the fact that Jisung actually seemed to have to believed it for a brief period of time in your first grade, however, that completely threw you off. 

He pulled on your braids during the time he sat behind you and kicked your shins while in line for P.E. class to ‘test your anger patience’ that was apparently fueled by cooties and occasionally stole your snacks for actual ‘DNA evidence’ of said cooties among other petty little things. It was nothing short of annoying and the very bane of your existence then. 

“Han Jisung cut it out!” You yelled at him one day, hitting him on the shoulder with the curved end of your wooden broom during after-class cleaning time. In this particular incident, the boy managed to swiftly take one of your pigtails out while wiping the windows in an attempt to ‘examine’ the DNA in your hair. 

“What?!” He snickered, taking a big step away from you and lifting up the blue scrunchie to examine it for miniscule strands of loose hair. “It’s for research!” 

You groaned in annoyance, reaching forward to retrieve the scrunchie with one hand while the other instinctively ran through the messed up half of your hair. “Jisung, give it back, you weirdo!” You scolded through gritted teeth, rolling your eyes when he shakes his head stubbornly and takes another step back from your reach. 

“Tell me the secret first!” 

“Secret of what?!” 

“Do you girls actually have cooties?” He quirked a genuinely suspicious eyebrow at you, raising the scrunchie above your heads after when you proceed lunge forward at him. “Does it actually make you guys this irritable all the time?” 

Somehow, the questions struck some kind of nerve in you. You were tired from classes, cleaning, and having to put up with Jisung’s childish antics. Maybe 1st grade girls did have cooties but for tapping into unbridled anger. “I’m going to kill you!” With the broom in your hands and the dust pan you snatched from his in retaliation, you then proceeded on repeatedly hitting Jisung in the forearms and shoulders until he surrendered with his arms protectively over his head and your scrunchie finally within reach. 

He also offered to fix your pigtail back for you but given the amount of distrust you already had for him, you simply smacked him one last time and went to the other end of the room to fix your hair. 

Age nine. Maturing a little bit through summer camps and classes, you and Jisung redirected all of your energy from physical violence to outsmarting each other in class. 

It started in English class when Mrs. Lee introduced the idea of recitations garnering students points and a fancy award at the end of the school year. Coming from the same piano class in the summer prior wherein you and Jisung also competed for your instructor’s attention, the two of you were quick to consider this as another one of your competitions. 

You devoted most of your time to studying the lesson from the what’s, who’s, when’s, and where’s while Jisung thought that focusing more on the deeper why’s and how’s would somehow garner him better points no matter how many times Mrs. Lee reiterated that all recitation points are given in 1 point’s. 

As the school year progressed, especially after the first semester report cards came out and the two of you were tied to first place in English to the very third decimal, the academic rivalry immediately extended to competing for the most amount of extra-curricular activities. You were more favored with the way you handled baby animals at the local shelter and competed in debates and quiz bees while Jisung was mainly noticed by the soccer and baseball coaches and the school choir’s moderator for his skills in sports and music. 

Jisung’s mom, who always picked the two of you up from school in her minivan, obliviously thought it was cute. 

“You know, instead of competing over everything all the time, you guys can take some notes from each other.” She pointed out one time after hearing your comment on Jisung ‘smelling like a polluted Pacific Ocean’ as he climbed in the backseat of the car. The sentiment almost went in one ear and came out of the other with the two of you, however, as Jisung proceeded on complaining that you smelled like ‘Cruella de Vil’s fake fur coat’ then hitting you on the head with his soccer ball. “Especially you, Sungie. You can learn a thing or two of keeping a goldfish alive for more than a week from Y/N.” 

You laughed at Jisung’s immediate shocked reaction of wide eyes and gaping mouth at this, slapping his arm in amusement and toppling over the backseat in laughter. “Yeah, Sungie, you really need help from that department.” You stuck your tongue out at him teasingly, laughing even more when he groans and hits you back with a light punch to your own arm. 

“Stop it.” He hissed at you before turning to his mother again, meeting her gaze through the rear view mirror. “Mom! You’re supposed to be on my side!” 

Mrs. Han was also stifling her own laughs then, forcing herself to focus on the road ahead instead of checking for her son’s pouting expression and crossed arms through the mirror. “Okay, okay.” She chuckled playfully with a dismissive hand, catching your eye after with a giggle. “Y/N, you should learn how to commit to exercise more with Jisung, then. There? Happy?” 

Satisfied, Jisung stuck his tongue out childishly at you as if completely forgetting the fact that he was attacked by his own mother first. “Bleh!” 

You rolled your eyes at him with a light-hearted scoff of your own, laughing away the way he proceeded to exaggeratedly tease you. “You’re so childish, Sung.” 

When your moms did seriously consider this idea later on, you were then forced to dedicated one weekend to taking each other to your respective extra-curricular activities. It was right before your final examinations and Jisung ended up getting scared over a golden retriever giving birth while you received severe cramps from the elementary soccer team’s rigorous conditioning training. 

It was a recipe of disaster, basically, and it ultimately led you and Jisung to cram knowledge for your exams on Sunday night in his bedroom. When you stubbornly didn’t learn anything from going to each other’s favorite extra-curriculars, you unconsciously ended up learning from each other in the six hours you both stayed up trying to review your notes. Miraculously (as in the miracle of hot brewed Milo-induced sugar rushes), it went well and the two of you tied or were close in grades at the second release of report cards.  

The only downside of it all was just the fact that the fancy recitation award in your English class that started it all somehow went to Hyunjin. 

“Ah, this is so frustrating!” You exclaimed on the ride home from school. You had your report card in your hands like Jisung, looking back on it all the while stressing out about Hyunjin winning the award the two of you spent a whole school year competing for. 

On the other side of his mom’s backseats, Jisung then turned to you and suggested, “Want to prank him? We’re playing soccer next week, you can swap his Cola for soy sauce.” 

You glanced over at Jisung, your pout slowly turning into a mischievous grin at his raised brows. “You’re onto something...” 

Age ten. You went on your first class field trip with a stuffed purple lunch bag of snacks.

Your mother specifically suggested that you share it with Jisung, thinking that the two of you would sit next to each other on the bus since he’s your only classmate she’s actually familiar with. But of course, when Jisung didn’t bring up any hints that he knew of this while waiting for the school bus to arrive, you immediately thought against it and planned out how you were going to hide your seemingly endless supply of snacks from him on the back-and-forth rides to Namsan Tower.

It was a well thought-out plan involving sitting near to the front and as far away from him as possible with your own group of friends then hiding the lunch bag under your seat until you caught Hyunjin not-so-discreetly trying to steal from you while he re-checked attendance after a stop-over.

“Jisung put you up to this, didn’t he?” You frowned, candy successfully retrieved from Hyunjin’s prying hands and popped into your mouth as the lanky boy scratched the back of his head in shame. “It’s okay, Hyunjin, I won’t kill you. It’s Jisung’s corpse I’m planning to roll down Namsan if he’s actually behind this.”

After a few more coaxing, Hyunjin eventually nodded sheepishly and admitted to Jisung convincing him to take a candy bar from you.

“Ya! Hyunjin!” Jisung whined from across the bus, peeking his head up from the identical red seats with balled up fists. “I told you not to rat me out!”

“Y/N was being scary!” Hyunjin argues back, sprinting back to his seat as soon as the the bus stopped at a streetlight. Hiding under the sea of seats, he then exclaimed, “You two take me out of your fights! Geez!”

Jisung pouted at you as soon as you lifted your own head up from your seat and turned around to face him, holding his hands out in front of him and then asking, “Can’t I really have candy?”

You shook your head stubbornly. “If I give you one, everyone’s going to ask me for it too.”

“But everyone’s basically asleep!”

“They could be fake-sleeping for all I know!” You hissed, popping another ball of candy in your mouth. “I don’t trust anyone in this class with food but myself.” 

“Y/N!” He whined, only to get pulled down by force when the bus abruptly begins moving again. Scrambling up right after, he then continued pleading, “Please?”

“No.” You firmly concluded, sitting back down on your seat. 

Jisung even tried staying behind to try and steal candy off of you while the entire class was piling outside to enter Namsan Tower, only to trip in surprise when you jumped on him from crouching under the seats. Poor boy almost hit his head on the seats in shock.

“I knew you’d pull this kind of shit.” You tsked in disapproval with a slight stutter towards cursing at such an age, smacking him over the head anyway before throwing the smallest piece of chocolate candy you had from your bag. Moving past him to the bus exit, you then added, “You don’t even do nice things for me.”

You only meant it half-heartedly, though. Whether Jisung actually wanted more candy or he did sincerely felt bad over what you said, either way, he paid for the expensive pink lock you and your friend wanted to hang at the very top of the tower later on but only if you promised to share your snacks.

Jisung received three packets of gummy bears and a bottle of banana milk from you in the end on the ride home.

Age twelve. The Hans temporarily moved to Malaysia in the summer before the seventh grade because of an assignment for Jisung’s father at work.

On the day before their flight, Mr. and Mrs. Han organized a farewell party in their house at the other end of the block and invited your entire class. Jisung tricked you into getting him a farewell present by telling you that everyone was planning to do the same thing as a surprise but he secretly found out thing.

He didn’t actually expect you to get him something, not with the way the two of you have always been at each other’s necks since you were kids, but you ended up surprising him in the middle of the lunch party by giving him a small notebook of useful Malaysian phrases you wrote down yourself. You don’t always agree with Jisung but you think of yourself as thoughtful and civil enough to buy something practical. Also, your parents insisted. 

“O-Oh, you actually got me something?” He fumbled through an intense blush that matched the redness of his Supreme cap, almost tripping over nothing as you both stood on the steps leading down to the back of his house. It didn’t help that a few classmate passersby were glancing your way as well, either cooing or snickering at the awkward sight in the corner of all the socialization. “L-Like—like, this is actually for me?”

You raised a brow in confusion and reluctantly shrugged, releasing the red phrasebook from your grip as he held onto it by the other end. “Yeah, you said you’re getting presents so I...got you one.”

“I actually lied—“

“What?!” You exclaimed a little too loudly for your taste, earning you a sharp glare from your mother all the way across the backyard. Mouthing a quick apology to your her, you then quickly averted your glare back to Jisung who instinctively resorted to looking at anywhere but you. “But you said—“

“I thought for sure that no one would give me any farewell presents since it’s not a birthday or anything but I know you would if you’re like forced to or something so I thought...hehe...” He mustered up a sheepish grin, pressing his index fingers together in a comical shy gesture. When your glare intensifies, he then immediately held his hands up in defense and visibly winced, “Ya, don’t hit me!”

Every fiber in your being really wanted to hit him with the notebook then, maybe even push him down the stairs while no one was looking, but after a moment of thinking your way out of such violent thoughts, you resorted to exhaling a sigh and saying, “Whatever, just keep the notebook or something. I don’t care. It’s not expensive, anyway.”

You chanted to yourself that you’re mature, especially as Jisung’s eyes lit up and he immediately thanked you for both the gift and sparing his life that day.

Though he didn’t hear the end of the other teasing from Hyunjin after that, Jisung kept the notebook around anyway throughout his entire two-year stay in Malaysia. It was helpful but he’ll never admit that to your face.

“You kept it.” You pointed out one day, more as a statement than a question as you realized that the notebook he was using for exam reviewer notes was in the same color as the phrasebook you gave him. When Jisung came back in the summer before the ninth grade, the two of you met again in the same cram school wherein mostly everyone but you and the transfer student, Kim Seungmin, refused to help him keep up with the heavier than usual workload. “The phrasebook...”

“Yeah—well, I didn’t want to waste any of the pages you didn’t write on.” He pouted stubbornly as he flipped through the older pages to compare the amount of pages you used to the empty sheets. His tone actually sounded like he was convincing himself much more than he was trying with you but you missed it complete in the moment. “Be more eco-friendly, Y/N.”

You simply rolled your eyes at him. “Glad to know I kept you alive in another country somehow, then.”

Age fourteen. You went to a soccer game to see Jisung but only because one of your friends, Eunha, developed a crush on the striker and eventually hatched a plan to confess on the game before Valentine’s Day. Fortunately, Jisung barely noticed and didn’t tease you for it since it’s already an established fact that you’re always at his games with either Yang Jeongin or Seungmin to cheer on Hyunjin instead.

You really didn’t get it. Of course, fifteen was the time when some, if not all, parts of your day were starting to become dedicated to vanity and all the artificial things in life to attract kind of puppy love in school but at this point Jisung always wore the same green hoodie, red Supreme cap, and white ‘Eyez on You’ shirt to every school function that didn’t require wearing a uniform.

You understood how your classmates suddenly began fawning over Hyunjin right after the summer when he got his braces removed and then Seungmin for bringing a suit and tie one time for an inter-school debate but the hype over Jisung suddenly bringing in his guitar to class breaks everyday and re-emerging as a star soccer and baseball player throughout the school year is an absolute mystery to you. That or, maybe compared to your junior high peers, you’re just as used to him at this point than they all are. In your perspective, the only legitimate thing he has going on is how he always seems to beat you in most Arts subjects and how annoying it is that he always makes sure to rub that in your face. 

“I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t shower properly right after training.” You shook your head disapprovingly at Eunha during the game. Soccer is an interesting sport for surprisingly bringing you up to stand and cheer at some moments, you’ll give it that, but watching Jisung get cocky and interact to the crowd whenever his team scored a point was somehow cringe-worthy to watch. “And I’m so sure he still doesn’t clean that soccer ball of his right after practice. You deserve better, sis.”

But no matter how much you talked shit about him throughout the entire game, Eunha still held onto the box of handmade candies she coerced you into picking up from Jisung’s favorite candy shop on the weekend prior and cheering him on with the slogan she made herself. It would’ve looked cute and sweet to you if it was some other guy but it’s Jisung—the guy who pushed you off a swing, pulled your hair, stole candy from you, and made all of your elementary after-school rides home an actual rollercoaster—and you would never wish his treatment of you to any other person ever.

“You said that was in elementary, Y/N.” Eunha chuckled softly, nudging your elbow before a sour expression could completely overtake your face. “Surely he’s outgrown that girls have cooties phase every boy had then.”

“No, it’s Jisung and I refuse to believe it.”

You really didn’t want to believe it with your natural instinct to see Jisung as the bane of your existence. What’s worse is that Eunha was right and Jisung shyly accepted the Saturday movie date at the mall that she came up with on the spot when he surprisingly received the candies well, a complete stretch from the Jisung who would’ve lied about being busy or tricked your friend into doing something else altogether. Suddenly, it was selfishly annoying that you’re the only one he actually tortures the life out of.

“Told you.” Eunha giggled throughout the drive back to your house. Your mother picked you up from school right after the soccer game for a sleepover you insisted was a must whether or not your friend scored her Valentine’s Day date. “Ah, I’m glad he accepted. I was a nervous wreck there! You don’t happen to know what kind of movie he likes, do you?”

You never heard the end of it from her for the remainder of the semester. The two were never official—middle school just didn’t have that solid idea of significant others, then—but they did went on numerous ‘dates’ almost every weekend that followed Valentine’s Day. Naturally, Eunha would tell you all about it. 

“He’s so sweet and caring and thoughtful!” The girl endlessly gushed out to you so genuinely you would’ve been happy had you not been sincerely expecting a major fuck-up from Jisung. Nothing romantic really did come out of these dates, even Jisung surprisingly swears by it, but they did become really close friends after and as Jisung’s only other female friend at the time, you can clearly see a point of comparison between his different treatment of you. “Though, I’m gonna give it to you that he is annoying sometimes but he does know a lot of good places to hang out around town for someone who’s been away for two years!” 

“He does the bare minimum for everything, Eunha. I could barely call it sweet.” You scoffed unamused. 

Age sixteen. In the summer after the tenth grade, an upperclassman from school by the name of Lee Minho started volunteering at the same local shelter you’ve been under since elementary after surrendering a lost cat to you while he and Jisung were playing baseball at the nearby park. 

He adopted Dori in the end but prior to finalizing the adoption papers, he actually made the effort to come in at your MWF schedule to help around and see the dark grey kitten. To you, it was endearing and thoughtful since you didn’t have much active co-workers at the shelter your age but to Jisung, it was slightly inconveniencing how Minho would cut off their play-time to see the cat. He even thought Minho had a crush on you and vice versa but you knew that Minho liked one of his own closer friends. 

“Jeoyeon?” Minho scoffed, crouching down next to you one time as you watched over the new litterbox of kittens eating with Dori on your feet. Crossing his arms over his knees, he shook his head and chuckled, “They’re cool and we’ve been friends for a long time but I’m sure they have a big fat crush on Bang Chan. Something happened after their McDonald’s date after our prom, I’m telling you!” 

“No, not Jeoyeon! I meant Bora!” You argued back with a laugh, picking up a white kitten that wanders off to your feet and lifts its body up cutely for a lift. Gingerly pressing the kitten to your shoulder, you then turned to Minho and continued, “The one who came by the other day to see Dori with you. Aren’t you guys rooming together in college?” 

Minho clutched his chest dramatically at this, shaking his head with a comical conviction. “What?! How could you accuse me of that, Y/N? Bora’s from a different cheerdance team! That would be like sleeping with the enemy!” 

You rolled your eyes, knocking him off of his balance by elbowing his sides. “Ya, I didn’t say that, you did!” You scoffed at him, sighing when he laughs off landing on his butt before sitting up in a crisscross position. “Anyway, don’t you like her?” 

“If I don’t like her, we wouldn’t be making all these plans to move in together for college, stupid.” Minho snickered, earning him another elbow jab from you. “Well, what do you want me to say? You asked me if I like her, you didn’t ask me how exactly I like her.” 

"Okay then, you wise wise person: how do you like Bora?” You sighed dryly, plopping down on the ground at feeling your ankles starting to ache from crouching. The kitten on your arm then jumped down to your lap, circling your legs a few times before finding a comfortable position to sleep in. “You know, the more you visit here with this kind of sarcasm, the more I’m starting to understand where Seungmin and Jisung are suddenly getting all of their newfound sassiness from.” 

Minho chuckled next to you, picking up Dori for himself once he saw him finish eating before hugging the kitten gently to his cheek. “Bora’s...someone I’d probably punch a guy in the team for if they ever disrespect her. I mean, I’d punch a guy for Dahyun, Jeoyeon, and Jihyo, too, of course, but Bora’s in the same sport where she’s always getting lifted in the air and touched by who knows who and now that we won’t be in the same team, I feel even more responsible for keeping an eye out for her.” He shrugged casually, ignoring the way your jaw just dropped at how naturally he explained himself. “Plus, it took a lot of convincing to get her to be my roommate so I can’t really have her dying under my care in the next four years.” 

“I—” You furrowed your brows in thought, pursing your lips in a pout. “Wow, I’m jealous.” 

“Then get on my good side, Y/N.” Minho winked with a laugh, holding Dori in front of you. “Let me take this baby home at the end of the summer.” 

You rolled your eyes again at this, shaking your head. “No, I mean...I hang out with Jeongin, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jisung and they aren’t really the most well-versed boys on treating girls properly.” 

“That’s why you hang out with me. We all know that Hyunjin just can’t say no to anyone who offers him a slightly more expensive bouquet of flowers, Seungmin’s in a relationship with baseball and academics, and Jisung...Jisung’s just dumb in general.” Minho then pointed out with a somehow knowing tone, smirking when a familiar figure passes by the hallways right behind you. “Speaking of...” 

Jisung joined you and Minho after, making sure to sit in between the two of you and drowning himself in as many kittens who wanted to sit on his lap as much as he can. “Dude, you shouldn’t have left early!” He scolded Minho with a pout and a slightly breathless tone from running all the way from the park. “Seungmin joined us today and he completely wiped out Sunwoo’s team!” 

“Then even more reasons to come here early so you guys could play with Seungmin on your team.” Minho laughed, gently handing Dori over to you from across Jisung before standing up and dusting the lint off of his jeans. “Y/N needed help with feeding the cats and puppies today, anyway.” 

Jisung frowned, turning to you after and asking, “Don’t you have any other co-workers around here?”

“Jeno has allergies so I don’t let him in here on most days.” You shrugged, handing Minho the empty pet bowls nearest to you as he proceeded to clean and collect them. “I can do it myself, you know. It’s just that Minho comes over and insists.” 

“Then you should’ve just told him that so we can play longer.” 

“Why is it a big deal? Do you like Minho?” 

“Do you?” Jisung’s eyes widened, almost getting scratched by a random cat in the process. “Because...because that’d be gross, to be honest...”

At this moment, your eyes accidentally met Minho’s right behind Jisung and the older boy had the audacity to wink at you before sprinting out of the room with a thumbs up above his head. 

In the end, you shrugged and answered, “I like him.” 

“What?!” Jisung sat up so quickly he almost scared a bunch of kittens walking all over his chest into jumping away.

“I’d be a psychopath if I don’t like him but let him volunteer around here, dumbass.” You deadpanned, moving the kittens around him to a safer space on the floor. “Besides, you asked me if I like him, not how I like him.” 

“What the fuck does that even mean?” 

Minho had a whole laugh out of eavesdropping from this conversation that he felt bad and actually adjusted his schedule for volunteering and playing soccer better so ‘Jisung would have one less thing to whine about all the time.’ 

Age seventeen. You and Jisung tried convincing your respective parents that going to prom as a group is the more practical and actually trendy thing to do but your mothers wouldn’t have it. Ultimately, the two of you ended up lying that you’re going as each other’s dates. 

You initially planned on begging to Seungmin until he pulled up balloons, roses, and a song number to his lab partner right on the lunch break that you planned on doing it and, of course, you had enough dignity to not fall in line with the countless of students that basically worshipped Hyunjin’s locker as if it were a shrine. 

Jisung, with Eunha already set on going with someone else she started dating at the beginning of the 11th grade school year, was the convenient choice. Your parents knew each other, he knows someone (his older brother) who can drive, and he’s recently gotten over his Emo-Hypebeast wardrobe phase after joining the school’s radio club with Chan and Changbin. With some convincing (read: an elaborate PowerPoint Presentation he made you do on the spot during one of your lunch breaks), the two of you decided that you would take all the photos your respective mothers wanted, carpool to the hotel, then go on your separate ways until his brother picks the two of you up at the end of the night. 

It was a simple and fool-proof plan, one that you almost forgot when you rented an emerald green and gold prom attire then Jisung’s mother told you right after about hearing her son trying to order a purple callalily boutonniere that clearly did not match your taste nor your colors (you sorted this out by cancelling the order and taking matters into your own hands). Then, the most awkward photo op at your house happened. 

“Sungie, put your arm around Y/N!” 

“Y/N, stop slouching, you’re going to wrinkle your outfit!” 

You were never serious-looking in any photos that had Jisung in it as well, preferring to pose like the two of you planned on murdering each other right after the photos instead, but your respective moms were holding your Instax camera and the family film cameras across the living room in this particular situation and so you reluctantly kept it inside. Straightening up your shoulders and elbowing Jisung to at least wrap an arm over your shoulder, you held up smiles right next to your red rose corsage and boutonniere set until the two women were eventually satisfied with their photos. 

“Aah, you two really make a cute couple!”

“Mom, we’re not a couple!” Jisung whined, glaring at you after which you immediately returned with the same expression.

“God, I’d sell all my limbs first before we actually become a couple.” You deadpanned back at him.

Fortunately, Jisung’s older brother allowed the two of you to basically try and throw each other out of the car windows on the thirty-minute ride to the hotel venue in compensation. You almost had him by the neck and he almost ruined your hair that you spent hours curling until Hyunjin pulled you back with a smack to your head and dragged the two of you away to help in the Prom Committee’s final preparations since Jisung was going to perform with Changbin and you were a part of the Prom’s Logistics team. 

You mostly stayed out of each other’s hairs for most of the first part of the program as you were busy pulling everything together while Jisung was having the time of his life with the soccer and basebal teams. The next time you bumped into each other, you scolded him for running late to his and Changbin’s set after dinner. 

“Where were you?!” You mostly hit him in the back with your clipboard, frantically passing him his already set up electric guitar and a microphone. First, one of your peers got drunk too early in the dinner to help out in the program, then one of the event’s award sashes briefly went missing and, not to mention, a lot of the people from the other committees somehow forgot about their event tasks when you asked in the main groupchat. You really weren’t having anyone’s antics at this point. “Geez, we already practiced this!” 

“Ow, ow, ow! Stop hitting me! Why are you so on edge?” Appropriately, he whined in complaint and took a step back after receiving his equipment, holding his hands up in defense as he always does. “Cut me some slack, Y/N! It’s prom!” 

“You’re so late when your table is literally right next to the side of the stage!” 

“I was dancing with everyone else! You wouldn’t know since you wouldn’t even take a break!” 

“Because I’m busy!” 

“No, you’re just being more irritable than usual!” 

“Fuck you, Han Jisung.” You rolled your eyes with an exasperated sigh, coldly directing him to the stage. “You’re on, get on the stage.” 

You knew he didn’t mean it cruelly, especially when his pupils started to shake and his shoulders instinctively slumped as he glanced back at you right before reluctantly stepping up the star-filled stage, but you were too tired of having to run around and making the event perfect for most of the night to process anything, much less his usual jabs at you. Being in such a tired headspace, you couldn’t enjoy his songs no matter how undeniably great they were, much less meet his eyes when you knew how he kept glancing at you throughout the entire set. 

He even covered your favorite song on the spot (which surprised Changbin and had Hyunjin running around backstage to inform everyone of the sudden extension) but you already sat down on your shared table with Hyunjin, Seungmin, Eunha, and their dates before he could even begin singing the chorus.  

“Hey, you good?” Minjung, Eunha’s date, asked you with an offering of an extra shawl to cover your exposed shoulders from the nearby air-conditioning unit. Eunha had previously left to go to the bathroom after stopping by your shared table. “Y/N, I told you if you needed extra help with the program, you could’ve just told us. We just planned on dancing tonight, anyway.” 

“I’m good.” You grumbled in a half-lie, resting your chin on your propped up hand tiredly, mumbling a small ‘thank you’ for the shawl as you fought away your tiredness. “I think I’ll just sit the rest of Prom out. Hyunjin can run the program on his own.” 

Minjung frowned, sitting down next to you and fixing the loose strands on the haphazard ponytail you managed to pull up in the middle of the program. “Are you sure? Eunha and I can stay with you until you’re feeling better. Besides, the program’s still long, you deserve to enjoy your hard work later at least.” 

Stubbornly, you simply scrunched up your nose and shook your head. “I think I’ve had enough of prom for one night. You should go and dance more, though. I’m okay as long as you guys are having fun.” 

But equally as headstrong as you are, Minjung got Eunha in on convincing you to agreeing to one dance with them as soon as she came back from the bathroom, reasoning out that, “We can stay in the back and just dance silly! It’s prom!” 

The pair proved themselves to be unstoppable in their joint persuasiveness when they got you to stand up and actually join them at the next set, right as Jisung was about to approach you to apologize. The poor boy ended up waiting the entire night until the two of you were alone instead, shivering right next to each other at the lobby while waiting for his brother to pick you two up. 

“Why did you even pick out something off-shoulder? I get that it’s trendy these days but you picked the venue knowing it’s cold and didn’t even connect a few dots there.” He hissed lowly, contemplating on teasing you further or keeping it quiet until he can muster up a ‘sorry’ to you. Shrugging off his jacket, he then gently draped it over your shoulder and added, “Don’t catch a cold or something...your mom’s going to kill me.” 

“Shut up.” You hissed back, crossing your arms further in over your chest as you spotted his brother’s car approaching the lobby’s driveway. You didn’t remove his coat from your back, though, clutching it tightly instead while convincing yourself that he willingly gave it to you so there’s no reason for you to throw it back at him when you really needed it. “ You don’t even do nice things for me.”

The familiar words visibly caught him off-guard, almost foiling his plan of opening the door for you as he freezes in his steps but he regains composure in time and almost trips ahead to swat your hand away from the car’s door handle. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled in the awkward silence, gulping down his fears of your death glare as he briefly averted his gaze away from you. With this, he missed the way your gaze softened. “There’s candies in the pockets.”

And there was, coincidentally enough the same brand he tried stealing from you on your school field trip.

“These aren’t expired, right?” You chuckled, popping a chocolate in your mouth anyway. 

That was enough for Jisung to relax his shoulders and laugh along. “No, promise.” He held a hand up as if he was swearing by his words, easing you into another fit of laughs. “I ran all the way to the convenience store down the block to get you those tonight! I felt really bad...I didn’t mean it.”

He could be sweet if he wanted, you’d give him that. 

“I’m sorry too.” You whispered to him at the end of the night, right after scoffing at him for insisting to walk you all the way to your doorstep of course. “I was so stressed with managing everything that I took it out on you.” 

Standing awkwardly with you right in front of your house’s front door, the sheepish boy rubbed the nape of his neck and shrugged. “Nah, I think I deserve it. I do annoy you a lot, don’t I?” He chuckled, eyes trained to the ground. “I didn’t even ask you to one dance.” 

“Not like you actually had to, we’re no—” 

“But you were still technically my date and I don’t want to be a bad prom date, even to you!” He insisted anyway, only then looking up at you. “I’ll make it up to you in the distant future, okay? Reserve me your next dance in the distant future, no matter where it is!”  

Before you could even retort, he was already running back to his brother’s car. 

Age eighteen and a half. Jisung began dating a girl named Haneul whom he met in one of his general classes and didn’t have one single clue about baseball or soccer. Naturally, his entire friend group was concerned. 

Though you’re much civil friends now, you still didn’t really care. Or maybe you didn’t want to out of spite (or a really really weird and displaced feeling of jealousy?), you weren’t sure. You just thought that Jisung can do whatever he wants even when it’s something that’s generally not advisable when you’re a freshman in college, but it seemed as if it was all Jeongin talked to you about whenever the two of you met up to study for one of your shared classes so naturally you forced yourself to take in all of the gossip. What’s worse is that Hyunjin would come over often to loiter around the library and gawk at the cute student librarian, ultimately encouraging the younger boy to talk about it more. 

“You’re being unfair to her.” You always reminded the two, sometimes Seungmin when he would sit quietly in the middle of the topic and say nothing to defend Haneul. In this particular time, Jeongin took you to watch the baseball team’s Wednesday scrimmage after hours of studying your nursing notes together at the nearby library. “Like, look, I don’t even do any sports myself but you guys hang out with me.” 

“But you’re different, you’re not dating any one of us.” Hyunjin snickered, hugging his helmet to his chest as he sat a step below you on the bleaches. When a thought then crossed his mind, he dramatically gasped over his gloves and added, “Wait, does that mean you have a crush on someone? Is it me?” 

You smacked him in the head with your hand, rolling your eyes after. “You know what I mean.” 

Next to you, Jeongin mustered up a shrug as he tried getting an injured Kira to sit back down on her seat. Your stubborn best friend, after playing at an underground derby game on the weekend prior, kept on moving around because sitting down with her injuries made her uncomfortable. “But at least you make an effort for us even if it’s just small.” He reasoned out, huffing tiredly when Kira finally sits down and promises not to move for the next five minutes. You would’ve helped him but personally you thought he deserved to suffer alone after letting her go out despite her injuries today. “Haneul got dragged by Jisung to watch last week’s scrimmage and didn’t even last a set. She just left in the middle of the game—literally!”

“He made Jisung skip on my derby game to too!” Kira pouted, waving her bandaged hands frantically in the air. “I’m personally offended, Y/N!”

“And she doesn’t seem to like talking to us in general.” Hyunjin shrugged in conclusion. “Like, sports aside, she’s a bit rude and nonchalant when she talks to us in general especially when Sung isn’t around. It’s a bit sus to me.” 

“To be fair, Kira, I wouldn’t be going too if you and Yeji aren’t so insistent on it. It’s so worrying seeing the two of you get hurt.” You pointed out before averting your attention to Jeongin once more. “And Jeongin, you know the only reason I can’t leave baseball and soccer games these days is because you and Seungmin are usually my ride home.” You scoffed. “If I could, I’d be hanging out with Felix more and only going to Kira’s games. Ya, why is he even allowed to skip games and I’m not, anyway?”

“Because he’s taking classes and training with the cheerdance squad until 8 PM and as far as I’m concerned, you’re free after 12 noon like me!” Jeongin simply grinned at you, earning himself a glare. “Also, I need you here with me as the medic team. You know I’ll panic alone!” 

Fortunately, no one ever actually gets injured at any of the games regardless if they were formal or not. By the time the game has finished, you were reminding Kira to rest more at her dorms and sprinting out of the baseball field to the samgyeopsal place the team promised to treating dinner at. You completely missed the boys’ conversation on Haneul in the process but you did get free food.

You really didn’t get it. The one time you met Haneul by chance, when you and Felix bumped into the two at the mall near the supermarket, she seemed a bit distant but she could be polite when she wanted to. Of course, it rubbed you the wrong way but you and Felix thought that it was none of your business anyway, given that neither of you are dating her. 

“When the guys walked me out of the baseball field last Wednesday, they did mention something about Jisung aiming for the soccer national team but who knows if they’re exaggerating again or something.” Kira confided in you later that week when the two of you met up over lunch. “Either way, I’d understand. If I were in Jisung’s shoes, I’d feel a little disheartened if someone I really like doesn’t appreciate the things I’m passionate about!”

Still, you simply let your friends sort it out for themselves. “Jisung’s a grown-up, he can figure things out on his own at the end of the day.” You reasoned out. 

Age eighteen and three-fourths. Jisung asked—practically begged—you to go to the movies with him because he and Haneul broke up the week before his birthday after opening up his worries to her. The other ticket was meant to be a surprise for his ex-girlfriend.

From what Jeongin and Felix have gossiped to you on two separate occasions, Haneul apparently didn’t like you and the rest of Jisung’s immediate friend group no matter how many times the boys tried warming up to her and getting to know her over the summer. She didn’t really support Jisung’s passion for sports, too, and mostly just stuck around for the ‘clout of it all’ or however Felix worded it to you. 

“I’d ask Hyunjin but he has a date with that librarian!” Jisung frowned over the phone on the night before the scheduled screening of Weathering with You. Reminiscent of a similar time long ago, he sounded more like he was convincing himself than you. “And Seungmin’s taking care of Kira, Minho and Felix are training, Changbin’s doing God knows what with his finals, Chan has swim training and—and yeah, you know where I’m going with this!” 

You sighed, rolling over on your back in your bed after submitting your online work. “You can ask the baseball team, the soccer team, your Introduction to Musical Theory class, the campus radio club, and—and yeah, you also know where I’m going with this.” 

“Yeah but—but it’d be weird if I just went with anyone or something!” He mumbled under his breath, pausing on the other line to scratch his head in thought. “Come on, it’s not your midterms week yet, right? Can’t you come over and go to the movies with me?”

“You’ll probably strangle me in the dark or something.” You argued next. 

“But it’s free tickets! At least you’re going to die with free tickets!” 

“So you are planning to kill me! I knew it!” You snorted dryly, rolling your eyes. “Seriously, don’t you have anyone else to go with? Why me?” 

Jisung took in a sharp breath in the longest pause you’ve ever heard from the usually rowdy boy. At that moment, only then did you notice the faint sounds of pre-recorded dialogues for soccer arcade games. He must’ve been at the one near his dorm then as he usually was when he was contemplating on something. “I just—honestly, I’m still processing all of this and I don’t want to open up to the guys...and Eunha’s abroad and I’m not that close to Kira or Bora so I thought of you.” 

Now, it was your turn to be speechless. 

“It’s silly, I know.” Jisung continued with an awkward laugh when he didn’t hear anything on your end. “But even when you’re annoying sometimes and you always get angry at me because you always misunderstand, you’ve known me the longest and I know you listen well and you’re always open-minded about things so I thought I’d vent to you, if it’s okay...” 

You finally released a defeated sigh, sitting up properly on your bed as if he was actually in the same room as you. “God, you’re too good at making me feel guilty.” You mused out loud. “Fine, just text me the place and time and no funny business!” 

You met up with Jisung at the nearest shopping center the following night, surprise paper bags of take-out and a mini cake for two to eat at the cinema. 

“I’m only going to be nice to you this time because you just got dumped and it’s your birthday later.” You explained as serious as you can to a giggling and blushing Jisung, handing him the take-out paper bags. Once the dinner meals are in his hands, you then take out the blueberry mini cheesecake from its separate paper bag and set up the candle you brought along with it. “Now, make a wish and get it over with.” 

Jisung’s eyes widened at the pink candle suddenly being pushed up to his face, distracting him from the passersby cooing and making comments at the two of you. “Really?” 

You nodded impatiently, thrusting the cake further up his face. “Yes! Now, blow on your candles or I’ll do it myself and eat the whole thing!” 

Jisung wasted no time blowing the single candle and taking the cake from you as well, jumping up and down in place as he closed the lid carefully and returned it to its paper bag. “Thank you!” He exclaimed gleefully, pulling you to a side hug. “Now, I feel a bit better.” 

“You better.” You frowned back at him, biting down a small smile when his hug lingered on a second longer. “Now, let’s go or we’ll be late to the screening.” 

Fortunately, Jisung didn’t actually tried strangling you in the dark while the movie played since he became busy with eating his dinner and cake as well as crying over the plot. 

Age nineteen. Jisung took you to the arcade inside the shopping center after to vent while scoring kicks at the mini soccer game. 

“Basically, she said—” Score. “—that she felt annoyed that Hyunjin, Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin were mostly onto her for ‘seeming off’ whenever they met or interacted.” Another score. Standing outside the protective fence, your gaze darted quickly between Jisung and the small net across the long room. “So I said that’s just how those guys are: they’re very curious of new people and make a lot of effort over it so when they feel that the other person’s energy seems off or doesn’t match theirs in any way, they’d worry.”

You nodded along whenever he glanced over to you, agreeing halfheartedly. “Hm, those guys don’t take bullshit, of course...”

“Yeah, right...” Jisung kicked another ball, barely missing the goal as he thinks of what to say next. “Then she started accusing the guys that they don’t like her because she doesn’t do sports which doesn’t even make sense because I know it’s not superficial like that.” He sighed, scoring again. After this particular kick, he then stopped altogether and turned to you. “The guys just feel off that, as someone I’m dating, she doesn’t make enough effort to watch my games or be familiar with the sports I love. It’s not the same thing.”  

“But does she make an effort to listen to your music?” You blurted out of nowhere, surprising not only Jisung but also yourself. 

It just occurred you to on the spot. All this talk about Jisung’s passion for sports had you thinking if Haneul also disliked the one other thing that Jisung was absolutely passionate about: his music. 

And it seemed to have caught him off-guard as it took the boy longer to contemplate on the question. “I—n-no? No...” He furrowed his brows in thought, walking over to you on his side of the chain link fence. “Come to think of it, she never told me what she thought of the songs I used to send her for feedback...”

You nodded, mumbling under your breath, “So much for defending her from everyone last summer...” 

“Hm?” 

“Like, I’d get it if your friends don’t immediately warm up to her because that really does happen in some relationships and it can be remedied over time but not appreciating the things you, the person she’s dating, are passionate about is another thing. If she doesn’t like the things you’re passionate about, then maybe she really isn’t the one you should be with.” You shrugged nonchalantly. “She could be all things nice but if she doesn’t support your own ambitions, other things that make you really happy, then everything else doesn’t mean anything.”

When he doesn’t speak, you allow yourself to continue. “Kira told me that you’re aiming for the national team in either baseball or soccer which is a bit surprising since I know you’re already being sought after for your music even at university so clearly those things are very important to you. Having someone around that doesn’t see that importance enough to make efforts is a bit meaningless in the long run, if you think about it. You...you deserve better, it’s what I’m trying to get at.” 

Still, he wouldn’t speak after everything you said. Instead, the boy just gaped at you from the fence. It definitely unnerved you as time dragged on longer. 

“I let you vent and made my own input on it like you wanted me here to and you just gape?” You tsked through your nervousness, crossing your arms teasingly and leaning over the fence on your side. “Ji, say something.” 

“...thank you.” He finally breathed out before you could complain further, catching you off-guard this time. “I needed that.” 

“What?” 

“This whole thing just made me feel really conflicting feelings.” He confessed, voice lower than usual now as he mirrored your position. “Thank you for listening and telling me what you thought. They definitely made a lot of things clearer.” 

You smiled, shoving him slightly through the fence separating the two of you. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it birthday boy?” You teased, laughing even more when he pouted at your teasing tone. “So? Feel better, then?” 

“A bit, yeah.” He nodded, grinning widely now. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N.” 

“You won’t admit it to my face but I know you’d do the same for me if I annoyed you into it enough.” You shrugged, standing up properly now and walking over to the entrance. “Now, would you let me play? You’ve been at it for twenty minutes, it’s getting tiring watching you.” 

He laughed at this as you joined him in the arcade space, kicking a soccer ball towards you as soon as you came in through the chain entrance. “What? You think you can do better?” 

“I had to watch you all the time after school back then because you were my ride home and Mrs. Han always picked us up late. I’m sure that could amount to something.” 

Age nineteen and a half. For a mandatory community service class, all of your friends signed up to volunteer at an orphanage. 

The majority vote was actually at the shelter you used to volunteer at but your old neighbourhood was too far from the university you were attending and so the most practical option, the orphanage just two blocks away, was the natural next best thing. And from this one semester’s worth of experience, you definitely learned a lot about your friends. 

For one, Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin were only popular with kids but only for their looks (additionally, his baking skills for Felix). Whenever you passed by them during volunteer hours, you would often find the three buried underneath a pile of toddlers hitting them with all kinds of toys. Feeling bad, you actually got the orphanage’s matron to assign them to the older kids after a while. 

Seungmin and Kira, on the other hand, were so awkward at first but naturally got into the groove of it. Maybe it’s because they only started dating then and everything was flustering but they surprised you the most with how much they got along with almost all of the kids regardless of age. 

Then, there was Jisung whom almost all of the younger kids practically fought over to play with at the playground. As if it was an inside joke of some sort, it made you laugh the most how the kids would often ask him to push them at the swings. 

“Careful now,” You reminded him once jokingly, elbowing his side as the two of you approached the swing set where the kids were already waiting to get pushed on their respective seats. “don’t want their knees to get scraped or something.”

He simply scoffed at you, shaking his head in disbelief. “I won’t let that happen, not at this age.” 

“So if I asked you to push me on the swings later, you won’t try and kill me this time?” You asked next, waving hello to the children before going around the swing set to gently push them to momentum. Jisung followed suit, making a beeline to his favorite, a toddler named Ara who always asked to be pushed higher on the swings. 

“That’s a trick question because we’re not actually allowed to play here.” He answered matter-of-factly, turning to Ara right after. “Isn’t that right, Ara? Y/N isn’t allowed to play here because she’s an adult, right?” 

The two of you would sit on the swing set and take turns pushing each other when the orphanage staff weren’t looking anyway, giggling amongst yourselves while watching the kids migrate to the jungle gym. 

“You were so annoying when we were kids!” You mostly complained, letting yourself laugh about it now as it was all in the distant past. “You had the ‘girls had cooties’ phase and everything.” 

“Because the boys all said it was true!” Jisung was quick to say in his defense, twisting the chains on his swing around to make himself spin. “And I was seven so of course I’d believe them that easily!” 

“What about when you pushed me from the swings?” 

“We both know that was an accident.” 

“You could’ve secretly held a grudge against me as early as that time! You were so mad when your mom made you buy me snacks!” 

“Because you told your mom that I did it on purpose! I thought you hated me even before that too.” 

“Well, I never hated you before that, just to set the record straight.” You shook your head immediately, turning your swings to the side to face him briefly. “You? Did you ever hate me?”

“Never.” He shook his head back at you in response, equally serious now. “You were annoying at times but that was because I was kinda annoying to you too.”

“What about now?” You asked next, voice unexpectedly wavering at asking such a question and even more when he chuckled at this. 

“You were with me on my what was almost my worst birthday ever just three months ago. What do you think?” He scoffed playfully, returning to his spinning to ease his flustered face. “Besides, we’re like better less-trying to kill each other all the time friends now! We’re even studying together again these days.” 

“We both know you’re only at the library since you’ve been trying to wingman Hyunjin with the librarian and dote on Jeongin like he’s your baby.” 

“What? No, I’m there for you too! Moral support!” 

Age nineteen and three-fourths. Jisung’s older brother invited you along with your parents to his wedding during the Spring break and Jisung immediately jumped on the chance to redeem himself as ‘the best dance partner you ever had.’ 

You didn’t even think he’d remember something he said himself back then. Personally, you thought it was just his guilt from pissing you off or sleepiness from dancing too much at prom that was talking then. But the moment the dance floor was opened at the rather extravagant cherry blossoms-themed wedding, the best man was by your side within seconds after sprinting from his table across the wedding hall. 

“Y/N!” He called to you as he ran to your table shared with all of your friends, your parents, and a few people from your childhood neighbourhood; his obnoxiously loud voice against the jazz music and his hand raised up above his head to wave at you catching a few guests’ attention. “Y/N!” 

Felix was about to ask you to dance after Seungmin and Kira as well as Hyunjin and Jeongin paired up, your hand already up in the air to accept his, but Jisung was quick to swat your hand away from the other boy as soon as he arrived. “Sorry, Lix, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Y/N away!” He dramatically interrupted in between tired pants, flashing the confused Felix with a sheepish grin. “I owe Y/N a very important dance!” 

“What dance?” You raised a brow, bringing your hand away from his and back to your lap. 

“The one—t-the one I promised you that night a-at prom.” He sighed, finally catching his breath after. “I promised you then, remember?” 

From the corner of your eye, Felix’s eyes lightened up in excitement as he clasped his hands together and cooed. “Aww!” He giggled, making you and Jisung turn to him after. “If that’s the case, then why should I stop you two? I’ll just see if Chan or Changbin aren’t dancing yet!” 

“But Lix!” 

The other boy’s quick to wave his hands to you snappily, shaking his head. “No buts, Y/N! You two go and do that cute promised dance thing you have going on! I’ll be fine!” He assured, much to your protests. “I knew something was going on!” 

“Nothing’s going o—“

“Thanks, Lix! I owe you, dude.” Jisung pats Felix’s shoulder appreciatively, turning to you after and taking your hand once more to pull you up into a stand. “Now, come on! My brother said he has my songs on queue!” 

He whisked you away before you could protest further, taking you to the dance floor just as the music slows down to his own song. “Right on time!” He even exclaimed happily before placing his other hand on your waist. You’ve heard this one before as the one he would always sing at the Open Mic Nights at university. “Now, to make it up to you...” 

Jisung didn’t dance so bad. He was still playful, making it a game between the two of you on who can step on the other’s feet the most when the next songs became more upbeat, but he was serious when he wanted to, sheepishly apologizing that it took him long to make it up to you. 

“I didn’t even remember it until you brought it up tonight.” You assured with a laugh as the song slowed down once more. Without even realizing it, you’ve danced all of the songs in the two-hour setlist with him. “I didn’t think it was important.” 

“Well, it is to me.” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he can, visibly looking nervous towards the end. When you quietly asked him why, his only response was, “Because that night I really realized that even when I liked annoying you, I don’t like pissing you off so much to the point that you hate me.” 

And at that moment you realized that Jisung has some way of catching you off-guard so randomly. “W-What? I mean—” You wanted to joke something along the lines of ‘wow, took you long enough,’ but the words ultimately never came out as Jisung chuckled at your baffled expression. 

“I mean, trying to piss each other off, joking around, competing over studies—those are our things.” He confessed sincerely, unconsciously tightening his grip on your hand as the song progressed. “But I said something that night thinking of it as a joke and not really considering the thought that it would piss you off so much because you were so stressed already. I didn’t like pushing you on edge like that—” 

“You already apologized and everything, it’s all g—” 

“—But most importantly, I really wanted to dance with you then, regardless of the incident.” He breathed out before you could even finish your thought, rendering you speechless for the second time. “Maybe I’ve always liked you then, maybe even before that; either way, I really wanted to have one moment where we weren’t fighting or anything—and, surprisingly, even when we’ve started hanging out better, I still want one. I still like you.” 

You immediately stopped dancing, bumping shoulders with a stranger behind you which Jisung instinctively responded to by pulling your frozen form to the side of the dance floor. You pursed your lips once to speak, only managing to fumble out, “Y-You...you liked me?” 

“I said I like you. Present tense.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, hands dropping to his sides immediately at sensing how tense and awkward the atmosphere suddenly became. “And I like you the way Seungmin dotes on Kira and Minho’s always protective of Bora and Jeoyeon’s been helplessly pining over Chan, those kinds in case you’re going to pull that how exactly do I like you bullshit you learned from Minho before again.”  

“I—r-really?” Was your only response as you tried your best to process this revelation. “You like me? W-Why—why me?” 

He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Yes, Y/N, how many times do I have to repeat myself?” He teased as casually as he could muster with his growing nervousness. “And why you? I don’t know, either, but I think I can start remembering as far back as the time you teased me at the playground that I push like a sissy but didn’t look for another playmate anyway. I’ve always liked you...just a little bit more now that I’m much more sure of a lot of things.” 

It was all so overwhelming, honestly, but you belatedly muster up a laugh as he recalled such a distant memory from you. “Y-You...God, Han Jisung, you’re insufferable!” You mumbled under your breath, hitting him by his arm with one hand while the other covered your mouth. “Why didn’t you say so?” 

“So, does that mean you like me too?” 

“I let you dance with me the entire night. What do you think?” You scoffed playfully, gaze softening as you looked up at his relieved smile and bright eyes. “You did push like a sissy at the playground when we were kids, though.” 

Age twenty. When Minho bought his roommate flowers to their last cheerdance competition and asked her to be his girlfriend, Hyunjin dared you to one-up the upperclassman and wear Jisung’s jersey to his own final game of the year.

“Well, you did give him that talk over dating someone who appreciates the things he loves.” Eunha told you over video call with the rest of your friend group on the day Hyunjin brought up the idea. Before you could even protest and repeatedly assure that you do support everything Jisung does, she was quick to add, “Yeah, I know you do appreciate them but I just think it’s fitting now! He’s been making a lot of effort for you lately and didn’t you say you wanted to do something in return? Maybe you can finally ask him what you’ve been wanting to ask for a while now too...” 

You hated how she was right and very convincing about it. Since the wedding earlier in the year, Jisung has been nothing short of nicer to you. From actually hanging out with you at the library now (and not just to wingman Hyunjin or dote on Jeongin), buying you food randomly, to letting you vent your own worries and unwind from school by playing soccer with you or playing you music with his guitar, he’s been ‘making it up to you’ with quality time and sweet gestures; the only catch is that he hasn’t officially asked you out like he would. 

The two of you aren’t exactly the direct words type of people but it’s still nice to have some sort of affirmation. 

With a few more coaxing on her part combined with Seungmin’s own persuasiveness nagging at you in real time, your friends eventually got Jeongin to steal one of Jisung’s spare soccer jerseys later that day to give to you for his game on the following Saturday. 

To say that Jisung was flustered is an understatement to say the least. Quickly catching you at the very front of the bleachers before the game started, he waved at you and the rest of your cheering friend group shyly, approaching only when the coach gave him permission to. 

“Hey, that’s mine.” He snickered with even more sheepishness at seeing you up close, holding the jersey he wears by its shoulders before gesturing to the identical one you wear. The two of you stand by the stairs leading down to the field, on the side where you aren’t in the way of passing players and staff. “The jersey—maybe the one wearing it too.” 

You held up the bouquet of daisies in your hands close to your face, effectively hiding the heat rising up to your neck. “I bought your favorite flowers too.” You pointed out next before gesturing to your friends sitting around you. “Those smartasses dared me to outdo Minho’s stunt at the cheerdance competition which I still think is dumb since you were in on that one but, hey, it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?” 

“Just seeing you is already enough.” He added with a flirty wink, making you cringe teasingly. “The jersey’s a really big bonus, though. I think I can score everything on this one because of you.” 

“You better or else this jerseys’ going to be mine now.” 

“I don’t mind.” He shook his head immediately, pulling you closer by the waist in his now ritual good luck hug from you and placing the flowers back on your sides. “I don’t mind calling you mine too.” 

The cheesy pick-up line makes the two of you laugh. Either way, you push yourself to not let go of him too soon. “...ew, Jisung!” You hit his back instead, heaving a sigh of relief anyway before finally pulling away from his hug to send him off. That’s enough confirmation now. “Now, go win this game and get it over with. We’re still on for movies later, right?” 

“Yep.” He assured, patting your head affectionately before boldly leaning closer again for a kiss. “I’m looking forward to it!” 

[mxvladdy]

Diavolo- True Form

Whoooooooo weeeee! ‘Pologies for the wait on these longer posts. I’ve been hit with a one two punch of house emergencies and sudden costly ass repairs, so my creative juices have been rightly squashed as of late.

Plus side I got my drawing tablet and drafting table back so I can neaten up my blog lay out now (yay!) 

Anyway this one was a challenge in the best possible ways. I really like Diavolo because of how little we know about him so it gave me some wiggle room. Or at least what I know of him- im only on like chapter 23 of the stories. Idk if I did him justice as this is angsty af but I sure had a blast writing it!

Hope ya like! Next up: Beelzebub 

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, and swearing. 

Diavolo-

He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.

No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.

Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.

But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the window pane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.

On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying  awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.

The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.

Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed .

You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.

He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.

You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.

Mini Fic

He didn’t know. For once in his ancient pitiful existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.

Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.

The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.

Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.

He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.

It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he wanted to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat.  

"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.

He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.

Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."

Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.

Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.

It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.

You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.

Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.

"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."

"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"

"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."

With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"

The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.

It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.

Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.

The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.

"I had not meant for it to go like this."  Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.

“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.

A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.

He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.

Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.

Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.

“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”

Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.

The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”

“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.

“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.

“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.

“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.

As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.

You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.

Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.”  

He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back?  He would let you.

You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?”  

Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.

“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.

You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.

The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.

“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”

That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”

“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.

“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself.  

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Tension

Pairing: Danny Rand x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of injuries

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: What happens when Iron Fist takes an interest in an undercover agent? (I’m so bad at summaries and Titles please forgive me)

A/N: This has been sitting incompleted in my drafts for like months and I finally got the energy and ideas to finish it. I feel accomplished.

It made sense that you and Danny never crossed paths. You were just a S.H.I.E.L.D agent and he was part of the superhero program. Even though you were similar in age, you didn’t attend the same school and you had no skills in common so you never saw each other during training.

You were born into being a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, growing up on the Helicarrier and training your entire life to be an undercover agent. You spent your days with different names and different personas, gathering intel and you were more skilled using weapons and gadgets than actual hand-to-hand combat, while he was parading around the city in a spandex suit.

You, of course, had heard of him but only by the name Iron Fist, and you had never seen him in person.

And it would have remained that way if you hadn’t gotten shot on your last mission. Even though it missed anything vital and the surgery had been a success, you were still told not to do anything that might agitate it for the next 3 months.

So, that was how you got transferred from the undercover agent assignments to team strategist department.

“But I don’t want to be in strategies!” You complained, stubbornly following Fury around the Helicarrier as he desperately tried to get away from you.

“Strategies is for boring people! Like Coulson!” You shouted ignoring Coulson’s offended ‘Hey!’, practically throwing a tantrum in the middle of the training room.

“And more importantly, you gave my assignment to that bitch, Lia?! I’ve been gathering contacts for that mission for around a year and you want me to just hand it over to that lazy piece of shit who would rub it in my face even if she never did anything for the mission?!”

That finally made Fury turn around to face you and you sighed in relief, hoping he would at least listen to you.

“Agent Coulson, make sure that every time (Y/N) swears, 50 bucks is cut down from this month’s pay check.”

You threw him a foul glare.

“You will be transferred to strategies in a week—”

“But I don’t want to—”

“Under the superhero programme—”

“Those pyjama freaks—?!”

“End. Of. Discussion.”

You glared at him so coldly, it could have frozen hell over. Your nails were digging painfully into the palm of your hand but you barely felt it through your anger.

You practically growled, pulling out a 50-dollar bill from your pocket and slamming it onto Coulson’s desk.

“MOTHER F—”

***

The first time you met a member of the team wasn’t one that you had expected. It was a month and a half into your recovery and you had written numerous mission reports on behalf of them and reset the programming of their training bots after each practice session but you still hadn’t met any of them.

The time you were taking to recover was driving you crazy. It made you feel weak. 2 months ago, you were in Barcelona, undercover as an underaged bartender for a mafia gang and now you were going to physiotherapy every week.

Since you were young and Fury didn’t want to take the change of you permanently injuring yourself, he was being very strict about what you could do, he basically confined you to a desk job for the next 2 months.

It was driving you mad.

So, one day when everyone was asleep, you snuck into the training area to practice shooting which you were sure had gone a little rusty since the accident. Nothing a little practice couldn’t help.

You picked up your favourite gun, smiling at the familiarity in your hand, loading it and clicking the safety off before pointing at the target and shooting.

The next thing you felt was excruciating pain. So painful that you were on the floor, pressing your forehead against the cold metal, wondering why this was happening to you.

The rebound of the gun had been too powerful for your arm to take. You felt your injury pull suddenly and you couldn’t think of anything other than the blinding pain as you cried on the floor. Feeling utterly helpless.

“Hello?”

You started, teary eyes getting wide at the sight of a blonde by the door. You had to wipe your eyes for your vision to focus, grunting in pain as you raised your arms again.

You recognized Iron Fist. You had been seeing footage of him and his team members for the last few weeks and writing mission reports about him but seeing him in person was a different feeling.

You hid your face, pulling your knees to your chest, hoping he would leave.

“I heard a gunshot.”

“Yeah,” Your voice cracked embarrassingly, “That was me.” 

“Everything alright?” He came closer to you, standing a foot away from you and you shook your head no.

In all honesty, you wanted to get off the floor and go back to bed, but your arm burned so painfully you were scared to move it again.

“Here, let me help.”

You froze, but still let him raise his hand towards you. You saw his palm light up before he pressed it to your shoulder and you whimpered, shuffling away from him but he continued to apply a gentle pressure.

Soon you felt the pain get better, it slowly reduced to a dull buzz.

“H-How did you do that?” You asked, turning to him with wide eyes and he chuckled, seeing the childish wonderment. You clearly had never seen him in person before even if he had seen you.

Danny noticed you the day he had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. You were returning from yet another mission and the soft blue dress you were wearing among armoured soldiers was hard to miss when he passed the debriefing room. Immediately, he stopped to peer inside.

The contrast between the soft summer dress and your cold, professional expressions sent a shiver down his spine. You looked so untouchable. However, he noticed the blush on your face when the agents complimented you and felt his heart flutter.

He had seen your road to recovery, he noticed you falling asleep at your desk every day, constantly doing work because you had nothing else to do and he wondered if it would be weird if he asked you to lunch sometime. For your sake, of course.

Looking at you curled up on the ground, he had wished he had done it sooner.

“You shouldn’t strain yourself before you’re ready.” He muttered, feeling tongue tied next to the girl he had been infatuated with from a distance.

You could only nod. This whole-time people had been telling you the same thing and you always retorted with confidence, saying that you were as good as ready to get back on the field. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought they were right.

“I’m Iron Fist.”

“(Y/N).”

“I know.” His answer came a little too fast and had you raising a brow. Danny wished he adorned a mask to cover the whole of his face like Spiderman when he felt his cheeks becoming warm, “You write our mission reports. I’m not creepy, I swear.”

You chuckled airily, turning back to the gun that was left on the ground and you pulled it back into your hand before clicking the safety back on before chucking it across the room.

“Thanks for helping me.” 

“I’m glad I was there to help.”

***

After your first meeting, you found him approaching you more often after training. At first it was just ‘hello’s and ‘goodbyes. Then he began asking about your day and you gave him mundane responses before you were forced to ask him how his day was.

Then he started coming early before his training with a cup of tea for you, though it was sometimes juice, sometimes hot cocoa.

Then he started staying late after training and you would give him a bottle of water and complain about him being sweaty.

It was an unlikely friendship but nonetheless, you got closer as the days passed by and once you did, it didn’t take long for you to meet the rest of the team. They kept you company and you grew fond of the rest of them; however, it wasn’t the same way that you felt with Iron Fist.

Your crush on Iron Fist snuck up on you when you were least expecting it but once you realized it you couldn’t stop yourself from falling hard and deep. Still, you continued to hang out with him, pushing down the butterflies whenever he smiled and stopping yourself from grinning too wide whenever you were around him.

You tried to keep your relationship platonic, not wanting to get caught up in it because it was unprofessional. You didn’t even know his identity and you didn’t want to find out. You were afraid that once he revealed that part of his life to you there was no going back on your love for him.

So, you stayed friends, good friends.

***

“So, it all blew up in her face? Huh, I should say I’m surprised but I’m really not.” You said, sighing when Fury handed you the mission file that you had been working on for a year before handing it off to another agent.

“You get to relieve her of her duties and start working again. Effective as of next week.”

You were grinning now. The doctor had given you the all clear a month ago and you had been waiting for a mission to be handed off to you but it had been a quiet month, with no need for undercover or even recon missions.

To get back the mission that you lost when you got shot seemed like the best one to start off again, and you thought your day couldn’t get any better but it seemed like you were having an incredibly good day.

As soon as you exited the room, there stood Iron Fist in all his glory and your excitement got better of you. You bolted right into his arms, catching him off guard with a hug.

“Woah, did something happen?” He asked curiously but still wrapped his arms around you to return the hug. You pulled away, flashing him the mission file in your hand and grinned brightly.

“I finally got cleared for a mission!”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you! I’m so excited! I have to go and prepare right away!”

“Wha—Right now?” He asked and you nodded frantically, “I’m off in about a week, lots to prepare before that.”

“Well, how long is it going to take?”

“Not sure, oooh, maybe I’ll get relocated someplace cool like Dubai or India or something.”

He didn’t seem to share your enthusiasm but just chuckled in a dejected sort of manner before nodding his head, “Maybe.”

***

“Partner? Fury, I don’t do partners. I am a single lady and would like to stay that way.”

He just sighed, used to your temper tantrums. Though he was honestly wishing he had a mute button on you. You were like the daughter he never wanted. Usually, he maintained a professional relationship with all the other agents but you were like the gem of the department.

Being one of the youngest and most capable of the agents was a reason for many of the older ones to fawn over you. I mean let’s be honest, a baby who can kick ass was adorable!

That always made you more outrageous than the other agents, letting yourself have the temper tantrums and choosing not to be a stiff, boring agent. You knew just how to push Fury to get what you wanted.

“The mission is to go to a socialite party and while you have the skills, you don’t have the contact.”

“That hasn’t stopped me before—”

“We need someone that has the last name to get you in. Besides, after last time, another agent looking after you wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

Your face fell and Fury knew he made a mistake in choosing his words. Your lip quivered slightly and he heard an agent tut disapprovingly at him and mentally sighed.

“That wasn’t my fault...” You said softly, your voice seemed thick and he knew one wrong move could possibly break the floodgate. He sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “I know that. But we just want you to be safe. Just in case something goes wrong again, so this time somebody can have your back.”

You nodded sadly, lips in a small pout and eyebrows furrowed. Somewhere in the background he heard another agent whispering to another that Fury was trying to make you cry and felt his eye twitch.

“No one blames you for what happened.”

You nodded wordlessly again, still frowning.

“Tell you what, because it’s your first mission back, you get a higher budget for it.” That was it. Your face brightened like the sun and you giggled childishly, sending him a mischievous smirk as you thanked him.

You disappeared before he could even scold you and Fury then heard the rest of the agents burst into laughter about how you managed to play him.

Again.

***

“Daniel Rand.” You mumbled, looking over the case file. Apparently, he would be your partner for today but it was odd that you never heard of him before. It took you a very short time going through the S.H.I.E.L.D. database to find his name.

‘Daniel Rand, a.k.a. Iron Fist.’

‘WHAT?!’

Daniel Rand? The blond aristocrat that looked like he was picked out of your wildest dreams. With a face that could break hearts and make knees weak, was the confidant and friend that you had been crushing on for weeks now?

Wow, he definitely had a face to match.

Without realizing, you had been staring at his picture for about 5 minutes, fawning over his sharp jaw and deep green eyes with a ridiculous love-sick smile on your face, with your heart fluttering in your chest.

‘God, please, like me.’ You said in your head. So far you had sort of a flirtationship going on with Iron Fist but you wondered if it was the same for Danny. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would intentionally lead you on, but now that you were seeing his face, you realized just how little you knew about him.

He probably had a life of his own and you took up only a sliver of it. Being an agent, you didn’t leave the Helicarrier very often, and you certainly didn’t have too many very friends. You never really realized how much you were missing until you got shot.

Iron Fist, well Daniel, filled the void you felt during your time off but it was also very possible that he didn’t feel the same way, that you were just someone he spent time with to get over his boredom.

Maybe tonight would be the time to change that.

The mission was supposed to take place today, so you woke up bright and early to finish up some things. Go over case files, do a weapon check and pick out your outfit. You were supposed to wear something that would catch people’s attention. And in the back of your head, you also wanted to blow Daniel’s mind right out of his skull.

Red seemed like it would make a statement. So would a bodycon, or maybe a long dress with a high slit. You wanted to go all out for your first mission in months. Maybe even get a few jaw drops.

Finally deciding on an outfit, you quickly texted Daniel.

‘Wear (F/C).’

***

“This guy is coming right?” You asked, bored. You had been ready for about 15 minutes now, looking like you were dripping diamonds and lounging comfortably in Fury’s seat, with your legs thrown over the armrest.

“He’ll be here any minute now.” Said Coulson, checking his phone.

You rolled your eyes, “Why do I feel like this is one of those movie moments where the girl comes down the stairs and the guy is just staring at her with a jaw drop. Or like when the bride walks down the aisle and the groom bursts into tears.”

You sighed, checking your watch again. 20 minutes.

“For someone making me wait this long, he better be so good looking that it makes me cry.”

“Well, I hope I don’t disappoint.”

The new voice certainly turned a few heads and there stood Daniel Rand. The pictures online really did him no justice. Sure, you didn’t cry, but your eyes definitely didn’t feel worthy to be looking something so pretty in the eye.

Before you could help it, a ‘wow’ slipped past your lips and he blushed, having heard you. Wow, he was cute inside and out. Unfortunately, Coulson had to come in where he wasn’t wanted and suggested a quick briefing which you had to agree to.

In the middle of the briefing, Coulson handed you a ring box and you raised a brow, “I’m a little young for you, don’t you think?”

He let out an irritated sigh but you noticed the tips of his ears turn red from embarrassment, “You’re posing as his fiancé. You need an engagement ring to match.”

“Shouldn’t he be getting on his knee then?” You joked, gaping at the size of the diamond for a second before slipping it on, completely missing the way Danny got redder at your teasing, “Wow, it suits me so well one would think I was made to be a socialite’s fiancé.”

Danny didn’t say anything and you brushed it off, putting him off as the shy but cute bookworm who would come through in a difficult situation. As soon as the thought came to mind, you facepalmed. All it took was one good looking guy to mess up your work habits.

“Well, come on honey, we have a party to get to.” You called out teasingly and handed him the keys to the car before strutting to the garages.

Coulson clapped him on the back with a small smirk on his face, “Good luck, honey.”

***

It didn’t take much effort to meet your contact in the party and you quickly left Danny’s side to discreetly to get any information he could pass to you. You quietly chatted with the contact.

Behind you, you vaguely heard a bunch of girls flock around him, giggling shrilly and trying to flirt with him. You resisted rolling your eyes. You had on an engagement ring but Danny’s finger was still bare and even though he might have announced being taken to them, apparently it was necessary for a ring to show his commitment. Something told you that even if he got it tattooed on his forehead, people would still try to flirt with him.

He just had one of those faces. Those faces that made people lose all reason. I mean, you’re slightly annoyed at the girls that have no moral and are shamelessly throwing themselves at him. But really, can you blame them?

Danny was gorgeous. He looked like a Greek Adonis that was sent down from the heavens to grace your eyes. Honestly, you couldn’t take your eyes off him while the two of you were driving down to the party.

Seeing them get handsy was more irritating than It usually would be. As annoying as it was to see these women through all their morals out the window and try and get a taken man to reciprocate their advances, it was more annoying to see them gawk over the guy you were crushing on.

A part of you wanted to just leave him in the car and not have anybody look at him.

But to keep your crush a secret, you maintained your distance from him, talking to the contact in a mixture of different languages so no one would be able to understand. Once you were done, you opted for getting a drink until you saw the pleading look on his face and almost felt bad.

So, you sauntered over to him, cutting right through the throng of girls, disgusted to see that some of them had wedding rings on, right to Danny’s side, snaking an arm around his waist and placing your hand underneath on his chest, giving him a sweet smile.

The shiny engagement ring on your finger caught their attention and they frowned, reminded that they were allowed to look, but not to touch.

“I hope you didn’t miss me too much.” You said, syrupy sweet and loud enough for the girls to hear before turning to them with a charming smile, “I hope my fiancé wasn’t too short with you girls today, he’s very stressed lately, with the wedding planning and all.”

Their faces fell further when you leaned into him and they could all recognize the possessive glint in your eyes. A look that said, I saw you trying to get your hands on something that was mine, you vultures.

The left you two quickly after that, resorting to go gossip in some corner. You wondered if they were snivelling about you but then realized that you shouldn’t be too cocky.

Instead, you turned your unamused gaze to your ‘fiancé’, pulling away from him with a frown.

“I’m assuming that you haven’t come here to flirt with someone else’s wife.”

“I wasn’t flirting though...” He replied innocently and you pursed your lips, resisting the urge to scowl at him. Instead, you just sighed and turned away from him, keeping an eye on the rest of the guests.

If what you were told is true, then someone is going to attempt an assassination on your contact and it was your job to protect him. However, you were distracted once more when he placed a hand on your waist.

You meant to turn around and ask him what he was doing but his grip was strong and he then pressed his lips to your ear. You froze, neck getting uncomfortably hot.

“At the entrance to the foyer.” He mumbled, looking into the mirror that was facing the entrance. Sure, enough you saw it too, the glint that came from the shadows. Someone was there.

The two of you still managed to stay inconspicuous, pretending like you were a couple in love. You turned to him with a smirk, hand going to your thigh where a gun was holstered.

“What do you say about getting out of here?”

With a hand around your waist, he led you to the other end of the room. Just as you expected, a waiter came up to you, trying to guide you elsewhere and you realized that both exits were covered. Grinning up at him, you asked him where the restroom was, giggling in a way that suggested something and he showed you up to the staircase to a hallway. 

Some of the older couples gave you knowing smiles while some of them passed disgusted glances as you made your way to the bathroom that for some reason had a couch in it. Damn, rich people.

You pulled up a schematic of the house, along with security cameras and looked figured out that each one of the exits were covered. Quickly making a plan with Danny, the two of you were about to exit again when you stopped him

You reached up and raked your fingers through his hair, dishevelling it a little before messing up his collar and slightly untucking his shirt. Taking a step back to admire your handiwork, you stopped for a second.

Something was missing.

It quickly occurred to you and you used your thumb to ruin your lipstick a little before smearing it at the base of his neck, “That should be convincing enough. Don’t you think?”

You didn’t give him a moment to answer, not that he even could, with you so close that he could smell your perfume and the scent made him feel dizzy. You pulled away to mess up your own hair and dress.

“How do I look?”

“Dishevelled.”

“Excellent.”

***

“Mission successful, assassination attempt was unsuccessful, contact is safe and being placed into witness protection, assassinators are in custody for questioning. Report 291220. Agent 290803. Phase Beta successful.” You reported into the com set.

Danny was quiet beside you, choosing to pay attention to the road while you deactivated your gadgets for the night. A quick glance from the corner of your eyes made your heart speed up just a little. He was doing that thing where he drove with just one arm.

“You know...” You started, clicking the safety on your gun, avoiding his eyes, “We don’t have to go back to HQ right now? We can get some dinner or something? In the mood for a veggie burger?”

“Is this meant to be platonic?”

“It’s meant to be a date.” You commented. His jaw tightened slightly and you raised a brow at him, did you really make him so uncomfortable?

“I thought you were in a relationship.”

“What?”

“Iron Fist. You like him, don’t you?”

An amused chuckle left you. Of course. He didn’t know you were aware of his secret. Resisting the urge to laugh at him, you shot him a smirk, leaning against your arm.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Danny’s hands tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. He didn’t look at you, instead staring at the road with a steely gaze and for a second you wondered if you shouldn’t have pushed him.

“It’s a little hypocritical of you to nag me for not being loyal in a fake engagement and then going behind Iron Fist’s back, don’t you think?”

His voice was tight and he was gritting his teeth as he talked to you. You sighed, not wanting to upset him, “Not when you’re the same person.”

He jerked.

“Woah! Drive straight dude!”

“You knew?”

You snorted, “Pretty much, yeah. And since when are we in a relationship? I don’t remember you ever asking me out?”

His cheeks coloured, embarrassed and he looked away from your gaze, “I was planning to.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You continued in a comfortable silence while he drove. You weren’t really paying attention to where he was driving, choosing to look at him with a small smile. He really was beautiful. Judging by his red ears, he was well aware of your staring.

Eventually, he pulled into a parking space and you were mildly surprised to see he had driven you to a McDonalds. You grinned at him and he returned the smile, getting out of the car to open your door before taking your hand.

“You owe me a date.”

You sent him a soft smile, curling your finger underneath his chin before pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He returned it immediately, slightly pushing you onto the car door and gripping your hips. You pulled away, giggling when you realized some of your lipstick was now staining his.

Chuckling, you leaned up until your lips were brushing against his ear, “Hey genius, you still haven’t asked me out yet.”

Forever Taglist: @simonsbluee

USM Taglist: @imcarolinashannon

[johobi]

Falling, Falling, Gone

Word count: 5.8k

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: None really, it’s my first ‘SFW’ fic, though there is some extremely bad language in here. And there might be an erection because I can’t help myself.

A/N: This is the fourth and final ‘drabble’ for the drabble game I ran ages ago. Prompt: “The thought of me making out with someone else is ruining you.”

Music inspo: Don’t Be So Serious, Baby Don’t Stop, Waste It On Me

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477485

Taehyung. Captain of the soccer team. Master of your heart. You'll never tell him for fear of rejection.

So why the fuck are you about to do it in front of dozens of his peers?

Banana and peanut butter become pulp in your mouth as you glare out the kitchen window. It's so grey out there. Greyer than it has any right to be. As if your dour mood has polluted the very atmosphere. Rain lashes the exterior in leaden pellets, each one compounding your headache like a rap on the head. Don't be so serious, your bluetooth speaker croons as you chew and chew, unblinking. The bridge of your glasses slip further down your nose but you don’t correct them. Don't be so serious.

Oh, but it's all so serious. 

Your final portfolio lacks in ways your mentor is incapable of articulating, and you only have so much time to fix it. Your college life is coming to a close. There are frighteningly few opportunities out there and they’re sure to spurn a sham like you. What do you do now? Where do you go from here—

"God, you listen to such depressing music," a husky voice sounds. It’s thick with sleep and horribly attractive. You hear his feet next; big and bare as they slap the tile floor and disrupt the ambience. 

Yes, dismal is an ambience. 

Before you glimpse the interloper himself, his fingers pilfer your next mouthful of toast. His other hand has your phone and is skipping through your carefully curated playlist of moody tunes. With all the scant energy you can muster, you glower at him. 

“Taehyung.” 

Soccer captain. Campus celebrity. Doofus.

Unlikely friend and unlikelier crush. But life is strange, and he is both these things. Indeed, he proclaims himself your best friend to all who will listen. As for the matter of your tender feelings, however, he is oblivious. And will remain so.

Taehyung is long-legged and limber-bodied, but round of face and feature. A kitten in a tiger’s pelt. Will mew for affection and roar when angry. Has quite literally nudged your hand for pets and raged at referees in the same afternoon. There is usually no in-between. 

Your scowl goes unseen. He sidles past like the oblivious buffoon he is and continues to tamper with Spotify.  Smears his peanut-buttered thumb around your phone display. Ugh. You brush back your hood and fix him again with extra scorn.

"Actually, douchebag, it’s good music for thinking. And I have a headache. I hardly wanna listen to something like—no, don't you dare put fucking Party Rock on right now. Tae!"

It’s too late. The lanky idiot is already gesticulating to the beginning beats. Your phone is an unreachable hostage in his flapping hands. You’re about to lunge for it but he preempts the attack by smothering you with your own hood. “Tae.” Your whining sounds all the more pitiful muffled. “Everyfing hurfs. ‘m hungover. Pleathe.” 

Taehyung relents after further, strangled pleas. Unwraps you with a grin that grows like the sunrise. For a moment, you’re dazzled. “Sorry. No more torture,” he chuckles all low, hair in his eyes. His locks are long and always untamed. An aureate crown befitting of his celebrity status. 

One swipe and he’s muted the racket and returned your phone. You turn the sticky thing over in your hands, rueing the day you met the overgrown imp. “How did you get it this dirty…?”

You go ignored and Taehyung gets closer. He scrutinises your hunched and hoodied appearance with a thoughtful hum. “Headache?” A rounded nose and two brown eyes come into focus. "Hungover? How? I didn't see you go out last night."

Averse to such study, you shy away. "Well, I did." You did not. You stayed home and guzzled $4 Prosecco while lamenting your trash portfolio. But you aren’t about to regale him with that pitiful tale. The sheerness of shame prevents you. Taehyung would be so sweet about it, too! So buoying, with his sunny smiles and fervent encouragement: "Why were you crying over that?!" He'd ask. "Your work is amazing. Seriously amazing. I love everything you do!" He'd gush. "People will be stumbling over themselves to hire you!" He'd continue, naively. And that hurts the most, because he just doesn't get it. Taehyung is a sponsored, collegiate athlete that's graduating into a guaranteed draft. He is—and always has been—praised widely as up-and-coming. The kid has had scouts scrapping for him mid-way through high school!

You, however, are small fry, swimming in a shoal of other unknowns, leaping for the hook of internship. Your dreams of animating for Disney died long back. They dwelled with Walt now.

But you don’t resent Taehyung for any of it. Ever. He’s a paragon. Born for the limelight. Has sweat and bled oceans for it. And for some reason he insists that you, too, are deserving of that same renown. Why? He’s ridiculous. Far too kind. And—Christ, he has a big dick.

"Taehyung, can you please not shove your tiny fucking penis in my face while I'm trying to eat? I'm nauseous enough as it is."

The soccer captain rests a foot on the seat next to you, giving you ungainly insight into his crotch. Taehyung, as he often, inexplicably is, is clad only in his boxer-briefs. This would be alarming were it not so goddamn commonplace. He is allergic to clothes.

According to him, he’s a naturist. 

According to you, he’s an attention whore.

Taehyung points to his elevated foot, but it's a little difficult to ignore the bulge he's brandishing. "Do you understand the concept of inappropriate proximity and your current state of undress?" You rattle on, words slurred half by OJ, half by fluster. He simply points again, and with more insistence. Relenting, you follow the line of his finger to his pretty, if gigantic, foot. Then notice the ink around his ankle, black and fresh. "Oh, wow, you got a tattoo? Cool!"

"Yep! I didn't ever really think about getting one 'til I saw yours. They were so cool I became kinda obsessed with getting one. So I finally did it last night."

‘Til he saw yours? Your stomach flutters. It's not the nausea. You smother it with more orange juice. "Well, that's awesome, Tae. You'll probably want more eventually. I would've gone with you if I'd known you were gonna go alone."

Finally, he lowers his leg. It’s a small mercy. But then, for no discernible, earthly reason, Taehyung begins flexing his many defined muscles. His calves in particular catch your attention. They’re so goddamned thick. They ripple. Fucking soccer players. "Hm? Oh, I wasn't alone. I went with some guys from the team." He ogles his reflection in the microwave door.

How can you avert your eyes when his pecs dance so compellingly? It all becomes a bit too much. "Okay, what are you doing? Seriously, what? I know you're into yourself, but this is ridiculous.” He stops. Snorts. Thank God. “If you were with the guys, why did you come back here last night? I thought you’d go back to your dorm."

Finally Taehyung sits, but he’s spread-legged and that’s perhaps worse than what he was doing just now. He’s 6ft of pure, hewn sex and just so fucking casual about it. He reclines. "Some of them took girls home last night so I needed somewhere to go and you're always an open door." Finger guns follow a cheesy wink.

You scoff, but he's right. You’d do anything for the big-hearted clown. Open door? You'd be the doormat under his soccer cleats, licking them free of dirt— "You're lucky Areum isn’t here right now. Don't think she’d take kindly to having some almost-naked oaf clambering into her bed."

"You say that, but she’s tried to hit this several times.” Taehyung is smug, brows high on his forehead. Yours lower harshly. “Tell her I slept in her bed last night. She’ll cream herself thinking about it later, I guarantee you."

“You’re gross. And can you stop—why do you keep flexing? There’s just me here.” You peer about for emphasis. Taehyung is again admiring his form in some burnished surface. “No-one is looking. Or cares.” Contrarily, you’re doing both those things. But he needn’t be privy to that. 

"This is serious. I need to work on my angles.” He contorts himself into something of a pretzel to peek at his back muscles. “We're holding a hook-up auction at our dorm to raise money for a graduation blow-out. And I'm on sale. Do you think I need to work on my back?"

You ease into a squint. "When you said serious, I thought serious words were about to follow."

"I am being serious!" Again Taehyung flexes, biceps bulging by his ears like an overfed turkey’s thighs. "How much do you think I'm worth?"

The world.

"I dunno. I'd take you for free, I guess, if you were the last one left."

Taehyung is unperturbed by your acerbic wit. It ricochets off him like rubber bullets would a muscle-bound ox. He is your greatest adversary. The bastard lacquers his lips until they’re plump and glossy and boasting a smirk. 

He’s always doing this. 

Always moistening himself. 

"Oh yeah? Well, I think you'll be disappointed." A boxy smile emerges. "I got girls and guys already approaching me about it. Some of the guys literally just wanna buy me for mentoring. I mean, that’s more effort than kissing, but—" He shrugs. The thought goes unfinished.

"That makes sense. You are a God among these mere mortals, Taetae." It's not sarcasm this time. Taehyung senses it. The grin he returns is life-affirming. You're so close to reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. Telling him you're proud. Telling him you most likely, maybe, love him. But you notice you've dragged your sleeve through peanut butter—”Ah, shit,”—and you can tell him how you feel some other day.

Some other day.

"Some of them just wanna make out too, of course, and, like, I'm happy to comply. It's all for charity." His altruism knows no limits.

"Charity, huh?" You snort. Taehyung's mouth grows more square at your incredulity. "Who else is up for bidding, then?"

"Mostly guys from the team and dorm. There are some mutuals who just wanna get in on the action, too. Uh, you know Kim Namjoon?" He measures your reaction. When you give none: "Jeon Jungkook?"

Disinterest mellows your features. "Oh, right. Cool."

"So you don't like Jeon Jungkook?" Taehyung's eyes are eager, his body poised. Anticipating.

"What? No. What gave you that idea? I've talked to him, like, twice." Your face crumples as you towel your soiled sleeve. The peanut butter smears into a tragic, shit-brown stain. "Damn, that's never coming out."

"He's gonna be so disappointed. He might even cry." Taehyung heaves a hammy sigh and clutches at his breast. There’s nothing the captain enjoys more than clowning his subordinates.  "Kook likes you so much. He's really into your whole androgynous fuckboi thing you got going on. He literally said, 'She's like a mystery, man. I'm not sure if she's a girl or a guy and—like, I'm not like that, but that's hot.'"

If your eyes could roll past the bounds of their sockets, they would. "Wow, what a poet. He sounds like a douchebag and I'm even less interested now. Fuckboi? Is that really the vibe I give off?" You don't fuck full stop. Nor were you aware you could dress like you do. 

"I dunno. You just seem kinda like a gremlin to me. Or like that weird guy from Death Note," Taehyung is quick to reassure you. Cool. You’re fucking overjoyed that he perceives you that way. Not as a goddess, or his beautiful, sexy soulmate, or the princess that wanders the spires of his captive heart. No. A gremlin. Or L.

"Well, you got me there, son."

"What about Kim Namjoon?" Taehyung presses, urgent again. He picks at your bread crusts with one hand, head cradled delicately in the other. The boy could be a world-class model, too. His loose, dark curls hang like a Van Gogh nightscape, framing the planes of his unmarred face. It hurts to look at him. It hurts to be looked at.

A self-conscious shuffle. "What about him? I don't know who that is." You flick away his foraging fingers but he draws you into an impromptu game of thumb-war in retaliation. It's the only thing to extract a smile from you today.

Taehyung looks sceptical. "He's the physio student with our team! You literally talked to him all day during this season's semi-final." His lengthy digits best yours easily. But though the match is won, he doesn’t withdraw his hand. Instead he encroaches further. Thumbs your wrist. Encompasses your knuckles in a soft, warm palm. He’s clasping you like an enamoured suitor might their bashful sweetheart, and it’s very strange. What is he doing? His mind looks to be elsewhere, now.

"Uh...—oh. Oh." Yours ambles back to you. "Yeah, he was really nice, but you know my rule. No—"

"—dating in final year. Yeah, I know. I'll tell him that if he asks about you again." Taehyung has returned, too. His hand is gone. Your gooseflesh ebbs with it.

With a cough, you sober. "I think the auction's a bit stupid, really, Tae. You sure you wanna do it?"

"Stupid? Why?" He shimmies in close, smug on his face and intolerably naked the rest of the way down. His skin is hot and golden and just far too close. "You're only saying that because you're jealous, right?" He tickles your chin to keep you honest and your eyes on him. You seize and squeeze the offending hand because he might be right and now you’re embarrassed. "The thought of me making out with someone else is ruining you," he goes on to say, brazen as the smirk defiling his cherubic cheeks.

"Some rather large conclusion-jumping going on there," you smile, sweet as sugared cyanide. Your vice-grip tightens until he’s pouting in repentance. "I meant it's stupid to put yourself in a potentially uncomfortable situation if you don't want to kiss that person." 

"I'm just joking!" he whimpers like the overlarge puppy he is and you free him of his snare. Because you would die for this big, soppy boy and his big, soppy eyes. “You’re so grouchy today.”

‘The joke won’t land if it collides with the truth, Taehyung,’ you muse. You expect him to know this despite never having apprised him of your situation. You’re jealous and cowardly and completely unreasonable. You want him for yourself but you never want him to know that. 

If he wants your candour he should be a telepath. Simple.

Irritated by your own nonsense, you lash out at the unsuspecting boy. "You know what? I was joking, too. I remember Namjoon, he was hot. And smart. I think I'll cheat on my dating ban this once and bid on him. He has super nice lips, so." 

Taehyung simply smiles. "Oh, okay. Cool! Glad you’re gonna come along." 

Your threat proves ineffective because he doesn’t like you like that. Wouldn’t give a shit if Namjoon rawed you on stage while you stared him down. You stall on that thought because it’s kinda hot. “It’ll be great. Can’t wait to get my tongue down his throat.”

“Hell yeah! I knew you liked him.”

Yep, Taehyung is oblivious to your pining. As he should be. Because outwardly, your pining consists of nothing more than the odd, lingering look here and there. The balled-up sketches of him he will never see. A secret smile if you’re feeling particularly sentimental. Other than that, you're steely. Poker-faced. Rarely blind-sided by his allure, especially now that you've acclimated to his penchant for exhibitionism. 

 "Thank you in advance for your patronage." Rising from his seat, Taehyung comes to a stand behind you and leans. Encircles your shoulders with his terribly athletic arms and puts his lips to your ear. You're like a feral cat in the arms of a senseless child. You're bristling. "If he turns out to be a jerk and tries something he shouldn't, I'll protect you." For a moment, you're touched enough to unclench a little. "With these guns." And then you choke between his straining biceps and vie to repay him in kind.

----

The common room of Taehyung's dorm has been crudely transformed. Some questionable construction has taken place in order to build the catwalk centrepiece. Sofas and tables line the walls, thrust from the limelight. You've occupied the drinks table for the last 45 minutes, from the second you entered this place. You harbour an intense dislike for the chaotic energy of Taehyung's dorm. Machismo rages noisily between these walls and you much prefer less testosterone-drenched environments. Nevertheless, despite it all you're here on an endeavour this evening. One your idiot, rampant mouth has obligated you to. To buy time with a guy that's perfectly nice and all, but isn’t Taehyung.

Kim Namjoon makes eyes at you from the head of the runway, awaiting his musical cue. The beer you just slurped down bubbles up. You have to look away. Unfortunately, when you do, Taehyung is immediately there, his face in yours, his thumb and fingers pulling at your cheeks. "Hey you, don't get too drunk, okay? I don't trust a single man here. Especially not nice-as-pie Namjoon." 

Nice-as-pie Namjoon has chosen some Bruno Mars track by the sounds of it. The auction-goers' excitement ramps up considerably.

Unable to move your captured face, your eyes sweep the room. "Not even your own teammates?" you scoff cynically, swatting at his hands until he’s baited into a game of slapsies. "Now who sounds jealous?" 

Taehyung stops for a moment, thoughtful. "You know, you're right. I'm extremely jealous. I want Namjoon all to myself. He gives the best massages. And a happy ending when I ask nicely." And then he's back to rough-housing you, slapping your upper arms to alternating beats. "You look cute tonight. Your outfit, I mean," he offers up out of nowhere, so quiet you almost lose it to the bass. "He's lucky."

But you look exactly the same as you did earlier that day. Exactly the same as that afternoon in the cafeteria when he ribbed you for raiding Billie Eilish's Good Will donations. "Um, thanks. I guess." You're genuine, but don’t sound it. You can't look at him for fear of revealing the dopey grin that has hijacked your face.

"You're welcome, buddy." A large palm flattens your hair. His fingers get all in there, ruffling it until it probably looks more akin a bird's nest. Is Taehyung trying to sabotage you? Also, buddy? "Look, Namjoon's walking." 

You turn and see that he is. Strutting, moreover, albeit awkwardly. It's obvious that the lanky boy is unaccustomed to the same attention the team he services is. Nevertheless, there are whoops and hollers aplenty for the handsome blonde dork, and you, too, catch yourself smiling. How can you not, when he pokes at his dimples so? The others seem captivated, too, though less by the  finger-hearts and more by his form-fitting tracksuit. 

“I’d wrap my car around a tree if he was the tree,” one auction-goer confides to her friend. “And then I’d wrap my legs around—”

“Yeah, we get it Lisa.”

Lisa quiets. 

Namjoon’s endless legs sidle to a stop at the catwalk's end, directly opposite you. His bespectacled eyes meet your bespectacled eyes. For one, long second, the interest is palpable.  But then he breaks, and casts his gaze down to his FILAs. 

"Okay, he's, like, in love with you, I think," Taehyung whisper-yells, hands aflurry in applause. "Are you gonna bid?"

Shouts puncture the cheering either side of the room.

"$10!"

"$20!"

Neither of them are you.

The evening’s auctioneer - Taehyung's partner-in-slime Park Jimin - echoes each cry that rings out, giggling into a tinny karaoke mic. "$20 for our team physio?! Is that all you got ladies and gents? Do I have to remind you this guy can grope away pain with his magic hands?"

Namjoon spins toward Jimin's makeshift podium of an upturned bookcase and menaces him with his eyes. Well, it would be menacing were the man not as threatening as a ribbon-wrapped basket of newborn sloths.

The striker backpedals. "Okay, the massage might not be included, but don't let that deter you! He kisses like a pro!"

Screams of how do you know that, Jimin?! erupt and the throng grows ever more wild. Namjoon is redder than the cup you're strangling.

"Are you gonna bid?! You're gonna miss your chance!" For some reason Taehyung is still here, harassment game still strong. He should be preparing to walk next, but sees fit to pester you instead. And because of that, he's caught you in your lie, bare-faced and blushing.

No, you are not going to bid on Kim Namjoon.

"Uh, oh no, I forgot my purse," you grumble around the rim of your next drink, gulping it down like the bottom is your way out of this God-awful situation.

Then what are you doing here?

"It's right there." Taehyung pokes the cross-body bag hanging traitorously by your side.

"Oh, is it?" You reach for another cup even while burdened with one. Anything to sidetrack this conversation.

Taehyung intervenes with a firm hand. Swaddles your knuckles ‘til the shaking stops. You’re shaking? Beer slops over the sides, unnoticed. “___?”

Stupid, warm hand. And why are his fingers so fucking delicate for a footballer? He should model jewellery. Wedding rings.

Yours.

His ringless fingers close around your wrist when you persist in avoiding his gaze. The ruse is almost up. Fuck. There’s nothing left to do but to look at him. 

You do, ever so timidly. “What?”

"What are you doing?" Puzzlement becomes him well. Why is he so goddamn handsome? "If you aren't gonna bid on Namjoon, why did you come?"

Silence, but for the pump of background Bruno Mars.

‘You. I came for you. You were the plan all along. Not him,’ your mind screams.

You, however, just stare.

"Going—going—gone! Sold for $70! Come claim your kiss!" Jimin can hardly stop himself from squealing. For a guy that beds girls on the daily, his sincere excitement over simple lip-locking is amusing.

Taehyung's teammates hail him from the drapery behind the catwalk but he won't yet go. No, he insists on searing holes into the side of your face while you watch Namjoon get sloppy on-stage with some girl you don't know. They're really getting into it. Damn, he forgot about you quick. In  their fervour they edge towards the bounds of the catwalk, too absorbed in one another to notice. Thankfully, voyeuristic bystanders are on-hand to catch them before they fall.

"Kim Taehyung! How many times do I have to call you?! Get over here before I kick your fucking ass," Jungkook roars across the hubbub, halfway through the room. He  enacts the violent gesture for emphasis and knees some unsuspecting girl in the ass. Immediately the macho facade drops and he's all doe-eyed and buck-toothed, prostrating himself before the girl who actually seems grateful to have been assaulted by one Jeon Jungkook. Between his hushed apologies, Jungkook shoots Taehyung a look something murderous. And then he sees you and throws a shy wave, the kind a little kid might when cajoled by his parents.

"Ew." The word comes up involuntarily, like bile.

A deep cackle emanates from beside you. "Okay, guess I'm up." Taehyung squares his shoulders. His mouth, too. He's a very angular boy. "Better get my kit on. Cheer for me!" With a pat to your shoulder, he makes for Jungkook. Leaves you with an insidious dread. His soccer kit is your weakness. 

No, he is your weakness.

"Next up - and I'm sure most of you here tonight are anticipating this guy - our very own Team Captain and soon-to-be Major League Soccer player, Kim Taehyung!" Banshee-shrieking reverberates at Jimin's announcement. "Stick around, he'll be out in a few minutes!"

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. You turn from the catwalk and fully embrace the drinks table, supporting yourself with two hands and God's grace.

Nah, you aren't gonna do this.

No way.

This wasn’t an actual plan. Just a fantasy.

You're not gonna tell him like this.

You're not gonna tell him ever.

All you have to do is just say you turned out to support him. You rarely get to go out with him anyway, what with his ever-growing entourage. Taehyung would appreciate that, and he'd never have to know that you came here for cornier purposes.

You're not a big gesture kind of girl.

Nah, you aren't gonna do this.

Distantly, you wished Areum were here. She'd have slapped some sense into you, maybe even literally.

No. Wait.

The devious cow would've talked you into doing it. For sure. She has a flair for the dramatic.

"Sorry, can I just—thanks." Someone with offensively bony elbows bulldozes you aside and passes a drink to her companion. An apology is on the tip of your tongue but evaporates into the ether upon seeing the twosome in question. Both were complicit in the casual bullying you endured during your high school years. They don't appear to recognise you now. Not that they even spare your pitiful person a glance.

"Who's up next?" the worst one queries, cup snug to her bosom.

"Taehyung," the lackey answers, glee upending her petulant features. "Kim Taehyung."

An elbow jabs you again as the girl struggles with the clasp on her clutch. Her overlong claws impede her. "Oh shit, already? I thought we had more time. Shit."

"Nope. It's go time. Hurry up, girl, competition's gonna be fierce." The other one watches her digital acrobatics to get into her purse.

Oh God. She has so much money. There's no doubt in your mind she'll trump everyone present.

No. Oh, no.

Not her. Not with him.

Your mind flits through premonitions of the future. They’re all  rather grim. The last one is that of a wedding. A marriage between this dreadful bitch and your most cherished of friends, Taehyung. It's garish and tacky - she's denied him input, of course - and the ceremony is filled with faces that once mocked you mercilessly. None of Taehyung's friends are there; indeed, he is no longer even part of his team. Her possessiveness and his undying loyalty have put an end to his blossoming career. He looks sad beneath a mask of happy. Eyes that once blazed with the embers of ambition are doused by despondency. He is a husk.

And their first meeting is this auction, this cute anecdotal encounter of oh, I just had to have him, and when I kissed him I knew.

Just a glimpse at this dystopian future disturbs you silly. Conviction, while tentative, burgeons in your heart.

You can't let her have him. Anyone but this noxious cunt.

And suddenly you've money in hand, too. Bills you withdrew specifically for this purpose, and yet would sooner have left them crisp and cold in your purse than followed through. But public humiliation is endlessly preferable to damning Taehyung to a kiss with this serpent. Because it won't stop there. It won't just be a kiss but an appeal for more. She’ll say it’s no strings attached, but she doesn't attach strings. She weaves webs. You recall her high school boyfriend. He was a well-performing, jovial guy that always waved hi. And she consumed him, heart-first, ‘til he was naught but a sunken-eyed zombie. He took a leave of absence that never ended.

Sexy, dangerous synth sounds from the speakers either side the catwalk. Ah, shit. Not that song. Any song but that one. NCT U’s Baby Don’t Stop. Of course Taehyung picked that. It fills the air with a fatal drum beat and in he comes through the curtains, strutting like he is the rhythm. The room, rather than become uproarious, falls eerily quiet. Everyone breathes as one entranced being, and no one moves but him. Halfway down the catwalk he body-rolls with the fluidity of wind-rippled satin, burgeoning from his chest and snapping at the hips. Prospective bidders gasp, as do you. And then his thumb is in the hem of his shirt, luring it upwards, exposing his olive expanses inch by mouthwatering inch. You see his abs near every day, but in this context, backed by that song, you find yourself as winded as everyone else. His stomach tautens for show, feeding into loose-waisted shorts that sit far too low. Even you haven’t been privy to this much. And especially not the alluring trail of hair that thickens at his waistband.

Someone shatters the stupor and screams, “$80!”

“Geez, you’re a horny bunch.” Jimin’s laughter peals. “We already have $80. Any advance on—“

“$100!” Some breathless sap cries next. “Oh my God, look at his thighs!”

And look you do. Taehyung grooves at the catwalk’s end, shirt back in place but hiking up the hems of his shorts instead.  You almost glimpse groin. He’s absolutely shameless, straining the muscles of his thighs until they’re lewdly pronounced. They’re veritable tree trunks. His calves, too, defy belief. Rock-hard and rounded and begging to be bitten. The party-goers crowding round his feet must think similarly. 

What distracts you most, however, are Taehyung’s straying fingers. They skirt his crotch in a salacious manner, stretching the material where it shouldn’t. Accentuating things they shouldn’t. You may pass out.

All the while his eyes are down, maybe closed. You want to see his face more than anything. The playful smirk on his plump, wet lips and the focus in his brows. 

“$120!!” You almost lose your head to a cash-strangling fist beside you.

It's her. Pointy-elbowed bitch.

But you aren't thrusting your student loan up just yet. You're in the middle of an almost holy, revelatory experience. Taehyung is still undulating and provoking the crowd, who are no longer hushed but whooping like chimps in heat. His shirt is off and helicoptering overhead. He allows one overcome girl at the sidelines to verify the thew of his biceps and bags himself another bid. You, however, do nothing but gawp, bills clutched to your chest and your eyes affixed to the glorious grin that breaks across his face. His eyes open onto you and then it's you you see at his wedding, standing afore him, bouquet instead of a wad of cash. You want to be the one. Now is the moment, while he's watching you envision this.

"$200,” you splutter. Volume is difficult when your voice is a quivering inconstant.

"What was that? Did we just get another bid?" Jimin wavers too, out of disbelief. "Did someone say $200?!"

The room is a clamour of confusion but Taehyung watched you mouth the very syllables. The shock is such that it softens his salacious movements to a dance more modest. His eyes are wider than you've ever seen them; mouth too. It hangs agape and downturned, as yours does. Because you're not quite sure whether you said something else altogether. Maybe you hurled a cuss word out of frustration? Did you momentarily black out and proclaim Hitler did nothing wrong? Nothing else can account for the scrutiny with which he punishes you with now.

Or.

You actually did bid, and that's why he's walking over, to the very drop-off of the catwalk, no longer any swagger to his step. "What are you doing?" he calls down, the music still strong and now strangely inappropriate. You simply watch the mole beneath his bottom lip move, dumb.

Louder, now, you call again. "$200!"

"Oh! It was a bid! ____?!" The flame-haired MC shares his puzzlement with the rest of the reacting room. All heads turn toward you.

But yours turns nowhere but Taehyung, your expression an open book of long-hidden liking. You watch, suspended by dissociation, as he lays a palm flat against his chest. "Me?"

It could all still be explained away. A joke. You drank too much. You just wanted to see the look on his face. Instead, you grant him the minutest of nods. A simple tip of the chin. "You," you whisper, whether it's heard or not.

Taehyung sees it in the shape your lips make. And then his gaze sweeps back upward, his chest heaving far too much for a man standing stationary.

"What's going on?" The disgruntled echo each other.

Jimin is quick to make sense of things and keep it rolling. "Okay, so, a bid of $200! Anyone else?"

A new song comes on; it's gone on too long. Something with a cantering beat that's adequately sentimental.

So if love is nothing more than just a waste of your time—

Clambering atop the platform, you counter someone's desperate bid of $220 with a measured breath. "$250." You hold Taehyung at fingerpoint. "You."

Waste it on me.

For a pants-shitting second, nothing happens. Your outstretched arm gains a tremor that could crumble it. Taehyung sifts your soul with his big, dewy eyes and then he's walking. Stalking toward you. Knocks the money from your hands and seizes your shying face with both of his. The last thing you see is his nose mole before his mouth joins with yours. His grip is like a vice and his lips are no gentler. They pry you open with little effort and then you're flooded with wet heat. Taehyung is insatiable in pursuit of your tongue. His hands drop to draw in your waist, your chest, every inch of your overclothed form. He's underclothed but burning hot, planes of honed skin beneath your fingertips. It's all so right. Feels so good. Taehyung moans that much into you when he chances a breath of air. Applause starts up as the music swells. It's so cliche but you've never had a cliche of your own before and your gloom-ridden ass needs this.

"Going—"

"I didn't know. I wish I had. This would've happened sooner," Taehyung gasps between desperate, too-short smooches. It proves too difficult to resist the pull of your mouth and he captures it again, sloppier. Slower.

"Going—"

"It doesn't matter." You pull the oxygen in, impatient. "Doesn't matter." Your fingers are a tangle at the nape of his neck, tugging on his lustrous locks. "Make up for it."

"Gone! Sold for $250!"

The two of you won't be parted for a moment. Not even when dismounting the platform. There's ruckus around you but it's so distant when his lips are on you. You sink into him like you would a scalding bath. "You don't have to pay that," Taehyung tells your cheek, smearing his saliva-slick mouth back to yours. His greed for you manifests against your stomach, and you ache in return. "This is a freebie."

Your passionate clinch takes you to the sidelines, away from prying eyes. Most of them, anyway. "What about this?" Your hands are suddenly in unseemly places.

"Th-That's also free. Everything's free. Oh, God."