#though the moment be cloudy or fair

[shootingstarpilot]

HAPPY SOCK DAY EVERYBODY!

If you're curious about what the hell I'm talking about, go check out @themonopolyhat 's "keep on the sunny side" - a delightfully cracky chatfic that spins out from how to bring him home and remains one of my absolute favorite rereads!

Dry socks really are the unsung heroes of the battlefield, after all. Yes, Commander, that's why there are garlands in the barracks, certainly not for any other reason, go ask Wooley for clarification-

(Also we respect you very much and hope you're happy, just wanted to say that-)

[unlimitedlust]

Just Pretend - Noah Sebastian x Reader (+18)

Author’s Note:

Hey everyone, this is a halloween themed one shot, I know there’s still a couple of months left to halloween, but "Just Pretend" + the cold weather over here got me inspired on that theme, so there you go 🎃

Warnings: 18+ (as always), old love, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie. As always: English is not my first language, forgive me for any mistakes.

W/C: 2.8K

I’m quite insecure about this one in particular because I think my head’s been frozen by the cold these days, but anyway I hope you enjoy it!

Please, let me know your thoughts on this one on the comments and feel free to like and/or reblog it, your feedback means the world to me ❤️

Now have fun!

Halloween night was one of your favorite nights of every year. You loved the decorations in the neighborhood, the autumn color leaves covering the streets, the costume parties, the smell of pumpkin spices, anyway, you loved everything around this season.

But this year you had a halloween date. Your neighbor’s son, Bill, whom you’d been talking online for a while now, was in town and had invited you to a halloween fair.

Even though Bill was exactly your type of guy and seemed to be a very decent man, you weren’t ready to get involved with someone new, deep down you knew Noah was still under your skin.

Your relationship with him was short but as intense as it could get in every aspect, but at the same time you two were like magnets to each other, you were in different moments of your lives, so it tore you apart.

But almost a year had gone by since you last saw him and you needed to move on, and what better way to do that other than going on a date with a very hot and attractive man and maybe - hopefully - get lucky at the end of the night?

Today you were feeling bold and confident, so you wore your Akatsuki cloak zipped up to your neck with nothing but a black lingerie set underneath it, black boots and Itachi’s headband around your forehead. You applied some makeup in shades of red and black, with a blood red lipstick on your plump lips and finished it all up by letting your hair fall loose on your back.

Just as you finished getting ready you heard your doorbell ringing and your date was there, dressed as very hot Fred Kruger. You were definitely getting some tonight.

It was a cloudy and chilly night, but the cozy atmosphere of the fair kept you warm along with your date’s company. 

You walked hand in hand under the yellow light strings hovering over the fair, laughing about a silly joke Bill had just told you when for a split second you thought you’d seen a familiar face in the crowd, Noah’s face. You tried to look back at the direction you thought you saw him, but he wasn’t there.

“Are you okay?” Bill’s light squeeze in your hand took your attention as you’d stopped walking out of sudden.

“Yeah sure” You reassured him with a smile, although still startled by the thought of seeing him there.

You shook it off and kept on walking with Bill to a caramel apple tent. He bought one and drove it to your lips, offering you the first bite as you dug your teeth on the hard caramel shell, successfully taking a piece of the apple and Bill ran his thumb on the right corner of your lip to clean a small piece of caramel stuck there.

You thanked him and suddenly felt a pair of eyes lingering heavily on you coming from your right, and that’s when you knew you weren’t seeing things. Noah was there. The Crow’s makeup all over his face and short hair now, but definitely Noah.

Your eyes connected for a split second but you averted yours quickly, locking them on your date again so he wouldn’t see that you got distracted from him once more, after all you were flustered and your heart was hammering in your chest, but you didn’t want to ruin your date.

Bill took your hand again and led you to the big corn maze by the end of the fair and you thanked him internally for taking you away from Noah’s sight.

You giggled nervously at the scarecrows by the entrance of the maze as you yourself were avoiding a very specific “crow”.

“Come on, let’s split up, if I make it to the end first I win another date with you, what do you say?” Bill suggested as you got inside the maze.

“Then I might just lose on purpose” You winked at him and parted ways inside the maze.

You were glad your date had the idea of splitting up inside the maze because seeing Noah unexpectedly after such a long time had you on edge and you really needed some alone time to process everything.

So you wandered aimlessly through the maze, not bothering to actually find its way out or even marking the places you’d passed by already.

“Y/N” A deep voice behind you made you stop on your tracks as you immediately recognized its owner.

You turned to meet him and his gaze and you couldn’t help but to revel on how terribly captivating he looked as The Crow, the white skin contrasting heavily with the dark makeup, the smeared eyeliner around his eyes and running down his cheeks and the black lipstick to finish it all up as Eric Draven.

“Hey Noah” Uncertainty laced your voice as he took a couple of steps in your direction, standing only a couple of feet away from you.

“Nice costume choice” He raked his eyes over you dressed as one of his favorite characters, which also happened to be one of your favorite.

“Thanks, you look good too… What are you doing here?” You spit out faster than you intended.

“Just wanted to check on you… Is that your new boyfriend?”

“No, not yet at least” You shrugged, unsuccessfully trying to look unphased.

“I hope he treats you right” He took another step closer, towering over you “It’s a shame that by this time a year ago we were proudly matching our costumes out there”

The weight of his words and the memories they brought caught you off guard as a knot of longing formed on your throat.

He sighed “It hurts to see you with someone new”

You widened your eyes in bewilderment at his confession followed by a lightning bolt lighting up the sky, announcing the rain as isolated but heavy raindrops started to slowly pour.

“It took you seeing me move on to reach out to me?” You asked in a hurt tone. The countless nights you spent crying over your break up only to hear it after such a long time “That’s not fair, Noah”

The pouring got heavier and you and your clothes started to soak in its cold droplets.

“I really wish I could come back in time to fix things… I’m sorry”

“I…” Your head was all over the place, you weren’t able to think things straight at that point. Having him in front of you brought back the butterflies in your stomach and at that very moment, despite the hurt that still lingered, you didn’t wanna discuss things long overdue “We both know it was my fault too, there’s no need for you to apologize for the past now” 

You both smiled gently at each other and he took your hand in his.

“Come on, we can continue this someplace else, it’s cold and the rain is getting heavier”

You followed him through the maze and only now you realized how big and puzzling it really was, because you wouldn’t know your way out of there on your own, especially with the rain and the thunders rumbling in the sky.

Sensing your apprehension, Noah brought you closer to his body wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“We’re far from the way out yet, but there’s a shed around the next corner, we’ll stay there until it stops raining, okay?”

You nodded and seconds later, just as he’d promised, there was a small wooden shed amongst the corn maze.

He closed the door behind you and although it wasn’t the most comfortable place in the world, it was better than staying under that cold rain. You were shivering as you took off the soaking wet boots from your feet, bothered by the slushy feeling of your wet socks inside them.

“You should take off that cloak too, it’s too wet, you’ll get sick if you don’t” Having him protective over you after all this time got you feeling warm inside.

But there was a problem, if you took it off you’d be practically naked in front of him, so you just hoped he’d let that go as Noah rummaged through a cabinet trying to find something to warm you.

“I found you a blanket” He turned to hand it to you, but stopped on his tracks when he saw you trembling, with your cloak still on “Are you okay?”

He placed the blanket on a chair and came closer, both of his hands cupping your cheeks as he gently tilted your face so his gaze could meet yours. The warmth of his hands spread down your body as you melted with the way he caressed your cheeks affectionately and you lost yourself in his perfect features, the way the wet strands of his hair dangled over your face hypnotizing you with how hot he looked with his new haircut.

“I am. It’s just the cold” You answered lightly as you unwittingly leaned into his palm, earning a kiss on your forehead.

“Then come on, let’s take that cloak off, I really don’t want you getting sick on me”

His fingers went to the zipper right above your chin, but your hands held his wrist in place as he was about to pull the zipper down.

“I can’t” Noah had a puzzled look on his face as he waited for a believable explanation “I… I’m…”

“I’m waiting”

“I’m not wearing anything but bra and panties”

The air inside the shed got suddenly thick as he processed that information. At the same time it thrilled him knowing that basically only a cloak had him away from your body, he was mad about the idea you’d wore like that for another man.

“For him?” The anger in his tone sent another wave of shivers down your spine as he cornered you, his face and his body only inches away from yours as his gaze burned holes into you.

And like a flipped switch, you weren’t feeling cold anymore and the rain wasn’t the only thing that had you wet.

“He’s not the one in front of me now, is he?” You teased him and dropped your hands from his wrist, his hand still on your zipper.

Taking it as a signal, Noah pulled the zipper down slowly, your chest heaving in anticipation as his gaze fell on your body, drinking you in after so long. With your bra now fully exposed, he bit his bottom lip as he watched your hardened nipples perched up against the transparent layer of black lace covering them.

Once he’d finished unzipping the cloak, you slipped it off your shoulders and let it fall on the floor, Noah’s eyes were predatory over you.

Breaking the distance between your bodies, Noah hooked his finger in the waistband of your panties and pulled you towards him at the same time he finally connected your lips in a fierce kiss.

Your tongues rolled against each other as you both drowned in the intensity of the moment, devouring each other after so long, your fingers entangling in his wet hair pulling him impossibly closer as he ground his hips against you, allowing you to feel how hard he was for you.

He let go of you for short seconds to take off his wet coat and black t-shirt, his once black lips were now stained by your red lipstick and you only wondered what you were looking like, hair wet from the rain and red and black lipstick stained all over your lips just like his.

“I fucking missed you” He groaned before latching his lips on yours again passionately.

One of his hands kept you glued against him as the other made its way on your spine, finding and undoing your bra clasp swiftly, making it slide off your shoulders right after.

Both his hands cupped your now exposed breasts and fondled them, kneading them as he played and pinched your nipples between his fingers while his lips now left yours and trailed down your neck, leaving angry marks on his way because he had full intention of marking you as his.

Your hands traveled down his chest and abs to his belt, fumbling it open as his tongue and teeth abused the most sensitive spots on your neck, making you whine softly on his ear at each sting followed by his soothing tongue.

After unbuckling his belt, one of your hands found its way inside his pants, palming his hard restrained length, making him grunt and buck his hips forward against you as you started to pump him slowly just to entice him.

One of his hands left your chest and went straight down between your legs, wasting no time in pulling your panties aside and pushing two of his fingers inside you, the sudden stretch making you gasp and clench around him, as he immediately started to work on the special place inside you he knew got you seeing stars.

You hooked a leg around his waist allowing him to go deeper with his fingers as you now took support on his shoulders, your body under such a pleasure you didn’t thrust your own balance.

“Noah…” The way his name came from your lips as he finger fucked you felt like music to his ears because since the last time you’d been together he dreamt about hearing it again.

“I fucking missed this…”

Along with his fingers, Noah started working on your clit with his thumb, applying pressure on it as he drew tight circles on it, making you bite the crook of his neck to keep a scream out of you as you were seconds away from your orgasm. Until he pulled away, making you whine in frustration.

“I wanna feel you cumming on my cock”

He licked the fingers that were inside you and the look on his face while he did that, like he was just having a taste of heaven, got you throbbing in need.

You took off your panties as Noah pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to free his hard erection, then pulled you up against the wall, your legs hooking around his hips as he held you by your ass cheeks, lining his tip to your entrance.

Your eyes were connected as he pressed against you, both of you moaning on each other’s lips as his entire length sinked at once inside you due to how wet you were, stretching you in a way only he did.

Your head fell back on the wall behind you as he slowly slid in and out of you, bottoming you out at every thrust, your manicured nails clawed down his back as he started to pick up the pace and the intensity of his rhythm.

You trailed love bites on his neck right below his ear, where you knew he was sensitive, earning a low grunt out of him as he focused on fucking the shit out of you against that wall, the position allowing you to feel every inch of him inside you, pushing all of your right buttons.

One of his hands found its way between your bodies and he instantly connected his fingers on your clit, moving them in sync with his hips slamming against you, and the feeling of him throbbing inside you along with his fingers on your clit got you closer to your high once again.

“Noah, I’m so close, don’t stop” You begged in his ear and you felt his skin shiver under your touch with your words.

The angle and the depth of his thrusts, along with a very specific flick of his fingers on your clit made your eyes roll to the back of your head as your body shuddered and your walls clenched around him, a deep moan erupting from your lungs as he kept fucking you, painfully riding your high as he too was close to his own.

Just as he felt your body going limp in his arms, he was about to pull out when you kept him inside by locking your legs around his waist and begging on his ear: “Cum inside me please”

Your plea got him cumming hard as his fingers dug into your hips keeping you in place as he stilled, spilling deep inside you as he bit the crook of your neck, still high from his release.

He leaned his forehead against yours and kissed you gently as he pulled out of you, his cum running down your thighs as he did so, and you missed him inside you already. You missed him.

“I missed you so much” You wrapped your arms around his neck, afraid of having to let him go again and it was now your turn to confess “Heaven knows I’m never getting over you”

“Wanna try again?”

[xerotiny99]

Chasing Stars in the Dark // Request

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader [best friends to lovers]

Warning: smut, hard dom!yunho, sub!reader, manhandling, fingering, big cock yunho, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, degradation, rough sex, cunnilingus, Yunho as a hard dom but still caring, etc.

Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable with any mentioned tags. Grab yourself a couple of snacks because this long as fuck. And not proofread.

Requested By: wattpad request

Gist: having broken up recently, you call your best friend and ramble all your sad tales to him. Yunho always kept an open mind and listened to your every chatter, no matter how envious he seemed listening to you. However, finding you seemingly heartbroken, he suggests you return to your hometown. Because he was too. Although, going back home might mean having more boy problems than usual.

Song rec: Stars by SKY

Word Count: 24,665

"And he said, I dress like a slut!" you whine, aggressively sucking on the straw to get the remaining drink out of your glass.

The loud noise caused you to earn bothered glances from the surrounding people. You take a look around, seemingly unaware of what you had done, and bow your head a little; you turn back to your laptop screen, finding a familiar face grinning at your disastrous mistake. He doesn't need a reason to snicker at you, and why would he? Every moment of your life is mangled deeply within the awkwardness defined by your body, he only found it endearing. Did he?

"Stop it, Yunho," you groan, rolling your eyes at him. "That wasn't funny."

"To me it was," he shrugs.

You were sitting in the campus cafe, with your laptop propped open on the table and your favourite drink by your side. Mellow sun hung over your head, shining bright and dithering to the cloudy skies which the winds blew by. In the daze of the sunshine, you occupied the window counter with a long table and stools for seating; you preferred the single seating instead of the booth 'cause it would not engage you in unnecessary interactions. Or so you thought. Being an introvert, social interactions weren't really your strong suit. "But coming back to your real issues," he clears his throat, "he really said you dress like a slut? Oh my god. The audacity."

The moment his voice raised a baritone, you knew he was being overly dramatic about this situation; in a way, it seemed like he was mocking you. And maybe he was.

You roll your eyes again, "Yunho, I'm being serious!"

He whines, "so am I, Liyah. The audacity of a man to tell you how to dress is sheer atrocity and arrogance."

"Yeah yeah," you sigh, "but he was so perfect, Yun. Like, my Prince Charming."

"Okay, I wish I went deaf before hearing that," he jokes, two of his sleek fingers pointed at his forehead to mimic a gun, "kill me now, please."

"I wish I could," you huff, biting your lip. "I wish for many things; I wish I could get back with him."

For the first time in a while, you were yearning something else than comfort. Usually, after your breakups, you would call up your best friend and he would try to ease your mind over it, but this time you were craving for your best friend to be with you. Which was highly unlikely considering you both were in different cities, pursuing your undergrad degree. Coming from hometown, you were diaper buddies, born in the same hospital, on the same day, being neighbours and your families being lost long friends. This wasn't sheer coincidence; this was something from the book of fate for best friends.

Best friends. Those two words made your heart bitter. Agreed, when you two were kids, you were really good friends, always at each other's side and having each other's backs. You two were ride or die. Though, along the senior years of your high school, you started to see Yunho in a completely different light. To define it best, you were in love with him. Well, to be fair, love doesn't happen overnight, it takes time; and for you, it had taken eighteen years of your life to make you realise how fucked up you were for him. At times you wonder if he was too. Not that he would say it outright, but over the past years he had gone further and beyond to make you happy.

"No, Liyah! Repeat after me," he leans closer to his screen, the camera noting every detail of him, "I should not give second chances to hubristic dicks."

"I should not give second chances to hubristic dicks." You repeat, deadpanning, however.

"Was that so hard?" he leans back on his chair, adjusting his big headphones overhead and heaving out a breath, "Liyah, you don't deserve a guy like him. All he's ever done is second guess your relationship, judged you for your preferences and has never once respected your opinions."

He rolls back a little on his chair, grabbing his half-eaten snickers bar from the table and taking a good bite of it; he was in his dorm room, wearing a black tank top and jogger shorts. The room was kept dark with the drapes drawn over the windows, you could discern him through the screen only because his table lamp was burning directly onto him. Though, considering the murmured darkness in his room, you could still read the minute details on his face; his soft doe eyes, the hazy brown in them, and his plump lips almost too kissable to resist. The only surprise in his appearance was his hair. He had dyed it to a vivid colour of ashen blue, a complete contrast to his ebony hair you were used to.

"He was a misogynist." Yunho adds, "having such old school thoughts about women, and..." he trails off, "and it was visible in the way he treated you. I would never understand why you even considered dating him. I already told you he was a red flag."

You pout, "maybe because I was bored."

"If you're bored Liyah, maybe play a game or something?" he monotonously replies, satire reeking from him, "don't fall for dicks."

"Yeah, it's easy for you to say because you've never had your heart broken," you retort, "you've broken countless, however. How do you sleep at night?"

"Sound and peaceful, why?" he cocks his one brow up, "look, I haven't found 'the one' yet. A lot of them are pretentious bitches who only care about my dick."

"T-M-I, Yunho." You groan, "and it's quite obvious, girls are going to be after your body."

"Yeah, you think so?" he purposely places his elbows on the table, folding his arms to flex them. "I never caught up on that."

"Eat shit, fucker," you poke your tongue out at him, "no, seriously. You need to find yourself someone who stays longer than the time you take to pull your pants up after sex."

"Jeez, you have a way with your words, and that's really elaborate." He leans back, stretching his arms over his head, his muscles contorting to his command, "tell me, have you done anything stupid yet?"

"What do you mean?" you sound a little guilty.

"Don't fuck with me," he deadpans, keeping a warning tone instead, "you know exactly what I mean. Whenever someone breaks your heart, you plot a revenge story, and it never goes the way you plan them to."

"You're still salty about last time?" you whine, "we both knew it was a mistake. Lesson learnt. But you were my partner in crime, so..."

"Leave it," he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face, "I still feel grossed out remembering what we did. You're pretty ruthless, you know that?"

"If he thinks his car is the only love of his life, then he had it coming."

"You wrecked his car beyond repair. You should know guys love their cars." He pouts softly, and you retaliate, "yeah, and you still joined me because you didn't want me to do it alone."

"Of course!" he exclaims, snickering a little, "I wasn't going to stand by and let you ruin your ex's car all alone, he deserved it."

"You are such a dick," you laugh along, "you can't pick a side, can you? Okay. Jokes apart. I'm not planning anything crazy this time. I'm far too old for that. Besides, I have assignments due before our summer break starts. So, guess what? I'm stuck typing hundred words per minute."

"You are stressed out," he mumbles, leaning on the table with his elbow and then resting his chin on his hand; he sighs, dazed by you. "Is that why I can see frown lines on your forehead? They're so prominent, ugh."

"What, really?" you unconsciously touch your forehead, worried. "Haha, very funny."

"Hey, I'm trying my best to ease your tension out." He shrugs.

You roll your eyes, adjusting your wired earbuds before looking away; grabbing your glass of strawberry smoothie, you peer further off the window in front of you. While you were busy studying the passersby on the promenade of your campus, Yunho was busy studying you. Mellow silence fills your ears for the time being he was staring at you, staring your hazel eyes melting away into sheer exultation as you sipped your drink. He always found you quite alluring. The way you'd scrunch your nose when you liked something, the way your cheeks would pop out when you smiled, and the way you'd get so easily flustered by compliments; every little thing about you was etched in my mind, almost ingrained.

Yunho continues to let his eyes linger on you, adoring your eyes and your lips; admiring the way you were sitting alone, tugging at the straps of your camisole in an attempt to keep them in place. He had never noticed you for your appearance or your vanity, he only saw you for your smile, your silly habits and your captivating personality. So, when he was quite engrossed in ogling your face, it weighed on him how badly he had fallen for you.

"What, cat got your tongue?" you mock, putting your glass down and letting it clink against the table. Pulling out the claw clip from your hair, you let it fall on your shoulders.

"No, I was just thinking."

"What?"

"That I gotta stop engaging myself with you and your shenanigans."

You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time, and he grins, "I'm joking. I wanted to ask you something."

"Go on."

"What are your plans over the summer break?" he asks, genuinely appearing curious as his brows fold up.

"I haven't given it much thought," you mutter, running hand through your hair, "I was thinking of applying for a full-time job or something."

With a subtle tug of your shoulder, you heave out a sigh and shake your head. Although, you had pretty much no motivation to think about your leisure holidays in front of you because you were too depressed about your breakup. You wouldn't say 'your now ex' was truly the one for you, but you were most definitely dwelling on the fact that you're going to have to be alone while your lifelong crush flirts with other women. That's the sad reality of unrequited love. You're deep into your thoughts, delving even deeper into your notions of your ex-boyfriend and your crush, seeming to shut out everyone around you. Yunho too.

"Liyah, are you listening to me?"

You snap back to reality, lips trembling and eyes quickly falling onto Yunho's face. "I am."

"Be a better liar, Liyah," he groans, shaking his head, "never mind, I was saying if you have nothing planned for your summer break, you can come back home." He has certainly gotten your attention now. "Well, I am too," he shrugs, "just as a favour to Mingi."

"What, why?" you muse, ruminating about the newly mentioned individual who happened to be your friend too. "You owe Mingi a favour?"

"It's not a bad thing," he pouts, "just volunteering at the summer camp."

"You want me to volunteer too?" you deadpan.

"Yeah," he mumbles, "I could use some company. You know I'm not too fond of the people back home, especially the ones of my age. And then there's unwanted attention from girls."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Yunho," you monotonously speak, "if you want me to be the lady repellent, you could've said so."

"Not exactly a lady repellent. I'm not trying to soil my chances with Alexis." He smirks, "we've been texting. And let's say there are some details I can't tell you."

"I know," you roll your eyes, "by the way, texting and sexting are two different things. Genius."

"Her body," he mouths, cupping the air in front of his chest.

You narrow your eyes at him.

"Okay, no objectifying," leaning back into the chair, he rests his arms behind his head, "I'm kind of surprised Mingi did not text you regarding the volunteer work."

"We lost touch."

"Really?" he scoffs, "hard to believe considering you two were really close back in the days. Didn't he have a big fat crush on you?"

"It was a teeny tiny one." You state, "besides, we did not interact much after graduation."

The look on Yunho's face tells you he doesn't believe you; not even a bit when you're trying to forget about those days, all the times you were close to this person. Song Mingi was a good friend of yours, you met in middle school and had known each other since then. He's a little goofy and timid, an introvert more likely. Somehow, to your surprise, Yunho and he got along perfectly. For some reason you were worried about that they won't because you thought Yunho would feel left out. He never did. Yunho did not show any sort of disdain towards you making new friends, not even once.

Though, there'd be a time when he'd started showing his bitterness towards Mingi; at that time, you pushed it away, seemingly thinking it was nothing more than playful envy between the two of them. Both of them competed for your attention, considering all was a friendly banter. Until it wasn't. Mingi had a crush on you. Big time. He confessed it to you at the end of your graduation party. You kept Yunho in shadows regarding this fiasco, although it was stifling to not share everything with him as you usually would. That night, you gave Mingi a well thought riposte.

You told him the truth.

You unveiled your deepest secrets to him.

He was quite understanding. Not judgemental at all.

You liked Yunho. Always had.

When Mingi got to know of the truth, he chuckled and said, "I'm not dumb to be so oblivious. But I think he's the real fool to not see it."

You laughed along, stating, "it's been ten years. I'd give it some more time."

Mingi couldn't believe you, "you've liked him for ten years? What, since you were eight?"

You nodded, "come on, it's not that bad. I'll tell him eventually, taking one step at a time. Because, who wants to ruin such a good friendship with him."

Mingi did not say anything later on, he only wished you luck and pecked your cheek. The night was absolutely beautiful, somewhat schematic due to your realisation. If you don't confess soon, you'll be stuck with someone who's not him. And it goes both ways. After graduation, you and Yunho both chose to leave your hometown in search of better opportunities, both having been accepted into colleges cities apart.

If you recall your high school years, you had mentioned it a few times to him, that you'd want to go to the same college as him. But nothing goes as planned, does it? It's been three years since graduation, both of you in your junior years at college, and million miles away. You're grateful to the weekly, or sometimes monthly, FaceTime sessions with him; it gives you a sense of calm and comfort. Well, witnessing the joy on his face, for every little thing, does.

Yunho clears his throat, "what happened that night, Liyah?"

You take a deep breath, dismissing your reminiscent thoughts. "Nothing, really. We talked."

"If you say so." He doesn't believe it at all. "So, what's your answer? Do I see you over the summer break?"

You couldn't resist his sly smile and tempting eyes. "Sure. But I'm only doing it 'cause you forced me to. You definitely owe me one."

"Okay, princess." He rolls his eyes, "I'll see you then. Unfortunately, I have to take my leave now. Got a class today."

"Whatever." You poke your tongue out at him, "see you soon."

The call disconnects and you're all alone in the cafe with your empty glass of smoothie, a few other students and your phone buzzing quietly. You peer over the notifications once the screen lights up, finding texts from Yunho.

Yunho 🐾🐶 do you believe in coincidences?

You why?

Yunho 🐾🐶 mingi texted me he was asking about you seems like someone's not over their crush yet

You leave it, yun

Yunho 🐾🐶 nope see... now you have more than one reason to come back.

You fuck you

Rolling your eyes, you put your phone aside and groan at the situation; flustered, your face heats up and you try to hide the tint of red on your cheeks by laying your head down. Planting on the counter face first, you start pulling your thoughts apart. There's no way your summer break was going to be peaceful, neither here nor there. Though, you could say you were very much determined to confess your feelings to Yunho.

It was just...you were worried it was going to cost you your friendship with him.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

            Summer break was here. The awful heat brought awful dread to the pit of your stomach, because you weren't prepared to meet either of the boys you were apparently close to. If you could put your nonchalant mind to work, you would realise you owe Mingi a relationship, and a draught confession to Yunho. The very sad part of your ordeal was the way you would approach it; you can't be lax with yourself or them, you can't be straightforward either. You had to think it through, whatever that is you had planned.

You were engrossed, immersed in the mindless notions when you park your car in the driveway of your suburban house. How badly had missed this place. The house is still the same, the grey walls, the wooden overhang, the roof tiles, and the aesthetically pleasing front porch stairs. Right beside yours, a meter apart, was Yunho's house. The Victorian style architecture never ceases to impress you, neither does the lush lawn and intricate landscape.

Heat simmers you out as you get out of the car and proceed to grab your bags from the trunk; putting a hand overhead, you try to save yourself from the sun before hastily making your way to the front porch. The overhang provides you with gelid shade, while you fumble with your bags to find the house key under one of the potted plants scattered on the porch. Upon finding it under some dead plant, you put the key in and turn it; the door unlocks and you're pushing past to get inside, your bags following after.

The vestibule, seemingly cooler than the outside, is empty and dark. To your surprise, the entire house is left cloaked in darkness. You slip out of your shoes, heaving out a sigh as the heat starts dissipating, bit by bit. Putting on the house slippers, you lug your bags behind you and come to a halt in the darkened living room; the drapes were pulled over the windows, not letting any lights pass through. You were aware your mom wasn't home; she was at work. But at least she could've left the curtains open, make sure you weren't blinded by the darkness once you come home. There's no point in thinking about your father, as he's usually out of town for work, awfully lot.

Chucking every notion into your mental bin, you stride to the windows and uncover the drapes, pulling them to the side while sunlight filters in. You turn around on your feet and quickly rid yourself of the wispy kimono you had over your body. Once you were out, you slump yourself on the couch and close your eyes. After a three-hour long drive, it was the first time in the day you had felt your skin breathe; however, you could've preferred for the air conditioning to be a little lower in the temperature.

You fish out your phone from the pockets of your shorts, which were stuck to your skin tightly because of the heat. Tugging at the straps of your embroidered camisole, you huff out a few breaths before going through your notifications. No recent texts from your mom, and no replies from Yunho. You had called him in the morning, before leaving your dorm room, informing him of your departure. He was ecstatic, evident in his voice and told you he had arrived a couple of days before you.

There was no need for you to have bittersweet sentiments about him reaching first, but you were somehow least prepared to face him, now that he was before you and gave you no time to think what your first words to him be. You two were meeting after three years, and the last time you remember, you hadn't gone a day without each other. Separation anxiety is a real thing, you thought. After many years of considering it a hoax, you had come to terms with it. Living in a different city without Yunho felt dreadful, a mere struggle till you could stand on your feet and do everything on your own.

Let's say you two relied on each other a lot. A lot.

"No texts?" you groan, opening yours and Yunho's chats. "You gotta be some kind of dick to ignore me..." sulking, you sink further back into the couch and rest your head against the edge. "Ahh..." you sigh, out of sheer spite and boredom.

You close your eyes again, not wanting to stare at the bland and vapid ceiling; the thought of you meeting your best friend after three years, swirls in your head. It's gonna be easy right? No awkwardness, no silences, and no teasing. Right? You have been FaceTiming each other, anyway, don't know why you have to be so worried about it. Perhaps, you were nervous to see him after a long time, only because you had confessions to make.

Lost in the vastness of your inklings, you don't perceive many things in your surroundings, especially the muffled footsteps ascending to your back. Your body flinches when a pair of hands grab your shoulders, eyes wide and on an alert; but your view is constrained to a dark silhouette covering its face with a purge mask.

"Gotcha!"

"Fuck!" you scream, managing to slip out of the person's grip and getting off the couch.

You've not even composed yourself when you hear a raspy voice rumble from behind the couch; from the apparent person standing behind it, clutching onto its stomach and throwing his head back in laughter.

"Oh my goodness," the all too familiar voice echos in your head, "you should've seen your face, Liyah."

When the dense vibrations of his laughter come to a halt, he whips off the mask from his face, revealing his fading ashen hair stuck to his forehead. Yunho smirks at you, flicking the mask on the couch before walking around to drop down on it. He takes a breath of air, perhaps tired from all the laughter while you narrow your eyes at him, your arms over your chest.

You're watching him with amusement; maybe it was the epicurean sense of your gaze, 'cause you couldn't help but drool at the man he had become. Yeah yeah, it sounds weird to you too. Maybe, spending three years away from each other had numbed your senses. Even after all the FaceTime sessions, you were erratically attracted to him; his toned body and how it was hidden beneath an oversized graphic tee and denim jeans. The most endearing thing about him, his shirt having a handwritten typography spelling out 'smile, zero worries'. That is definitely his personality.

"Not funny, jerk face."

"Oh, it really was," he chuckles, shrugging off his black leather jacket and letting it hang over the armrest of the couch. "Your face was worth going through all the trouble to find this mask in my attic. Too bad I did not have a camera on me."

"Is this how you welcome me back? By petty pranks?"

He shrugs his shoulders, letting his head fall back, "I had many things planned for your welcome; guess my efforts fell short. I'm not as lively as I used to be before."

"I'm glad you aren't," you grumble, going to pick up your bags when Yunho quickly scrambles on his feet and picks them up for you. "Woah, what a gentleman."

"Snark all you want; I know you love me." He snides, holding two of your bags in either of his hands, "to your room, then?"

You shake your head and roll your eyes, taking the lead as you walk down the hallway. As the hallway curves to a corner, the stairs begin and you take one step at a time, Yunho hauling the bags behind you.

"Would it be stupid if I asked you how you got in?" you mumble, calling to him.

Yunho heaves a murmured chortle, "babes, the balcony of your room opens right into mine. All I had to do was take a leap of faith. Literally."

"That's trespassing, I'll have you behind the bars," you retort.

"Aww, then wouldn't you miss me too much?" he pouts, "I got to jail, you lose a best friend and die alone."

"Pretty elaborate," you continue walking up the stairs, quite leisurely to keep the conversation between you two going, "I'm not dying alone. We made a deal, remember?"

"Right, we were born together, we will die together." He sighs, "we made a lot of hollow promises back then, did we not?"

The two of you are at the top of the stairs, you've stopped in your steps while he's standing next to you. Either of your eyes bore into each other's, searching for the verity of your so-called promises and pacts you had made when you were kids. It's all fun and games when you're kids, when you don't even think with a fraction of your mind and believe every word you say is genuine and candid. You and Yunho had your own sets of bargains ready by the age of fourteen; you were silly then, to consider yourself making covenants with your best friend about every little thing.

Not married till 30? You were going to marry each other.

No first kiss in your teens? You were going to be each other's firsts. And that applied to everything.

These were some of them, but the thought of being each other's first was a wild one. Luckily, you both had your first kiss at the age of sixteen; it was memorable for you, but terrible for Yunho as he remembers the girl he liked was only using him to make her ex jealous. It's all in the past. You're both twenty something now: twenty-one, one year away from graduating college. Of course, things, situations, conflicts, have taken turns for the better.

At the top of the stairs, it's just you and him, lost in the translation of the language your eyes spoke. What were you even trying to convey? Biting your lip, blinking uncontrollably while your heart pounds in your chest, too hard for you to think it would drop down to your gut. Maybe you were taking an apprehensive approach to your dynamic with him, because once it shifts, you know there's no going back.

Yunho clears his throat, looking away from you and stepping forward, "your bags are really heavy. What do you have in these?"

Your body shudders softly, squeaking at the absence of him next to you. "Just clothes."

"How many pairs did you get?"

"Not many..." you weren't sure if you were making sense to yourself, because you hadn't quite snapped out of your trance yet.

The little stare down at the top of the stairs was a homebound reverie to you. It put you in a deep state of cognisance, fulfilling your heart's desire because you were now persuaded by your stupid self to believe you had fallen in love with him. The soulmate type of love. Was it? It had to be. Because no one knows you like he does. Knowing every crack and crevice in your soul, knowing every little detail about you, remembering it, ingraining in his memory; he had to be in love with you, too. Right? It only made sense.

Yunho's long gone from your point of vision, and you're still stuck to the floor, contemplating, musing, or ruminating. No matter how you made overtures to your thinking, there was no way you'd think he reciprocates your feelings. Maybe it's too much wishful thinking. Has to be.

"Liyah, where the fuck are you?" he playfully calls out to you, his deep voice breaking you apart.

You shake your head and promenade down the narrow hallway once it the main structure branches into two; your house was like a labyrinth of hallways, and you'd find yourself lost in the maze at times. You don't know how Yunho remembers everything, but maybe it's habitual for him to remember, as much as you do for his house. Walking in your room, you find Yunho closing the balcony doors he had left open.

"No thoughts. Clear mind." You mumble to yourself before trudging further inside.

Yunho, alerted by your presence, turns around and offers you a smile. That goddamn smile. The one which shines brighter than the moon and the stars, heck, it would even put them to shame. His smile brought butterflies to your stomach, and the familiar feelings started bubbling under your skin. You were fucked.

Well, you might want to hold onto that thought just yet.

You're left to act on your instincts when he prances towards you and wraps your little frame in a bone crushing hug. He missed you. Clearly. His arms are tight and snug around your shoulders, his head tilting down to rest his chin on yours; your height difference gave him the biggest advantage ever, towering over you like a giant teddy bear. He was soft, and warm, comforting to you. Maybe why you did not think twice before hugging him back as tight as you could; you bury your head in his chest, inhaling his scent which was long lost in the virtual reality of FaceTimes. You missed him too. A lot.

Yunho always smelled like a sybaritic man, someone who'd be addicted to the life of luxury and pleasure. It was too sensual for you and your senses. Imagine, hugging your best friend who's basically sex on a stick. Yeah, your hormones were going crazy. Downtown crazy. You pull back from his embrace before you could feel yourself dripping in carnality by only inhaling the heart notes of his scent and step aside to fall onto your bed.

Not much was spoken. Not when you had practically snatched yourself out of his hold and flumped on the bed. Yunho doesn't bother saying anything to you, only maybe, he finds it better to just lay next to you on the bed. You prop yourself up by your elbows and turn your head to look at him; he was resting against the headboard with his head tilted to a side while his eyes remained fixed on you. There's a frail curl on his lips. And you wonder what it was about.

"I really needed that hug, thanks." You speak up, turning on your side and letting your head fall on the mattress; you still peeked at him.

Yunho couldn't bear the sight of you, innocently looking up at him through your lashes. He couldn't really help it either because your scent had put him in a daze of the past years, the reminiscent years of him stealing sniffs of you to realise how alluring your scent was. You always smelled luscious to him, having the hints of strawberry and coconut to your skin, your hair, and your lips even; he didn't know when he was addicted to you.

"Because of the breakup?" he asks, grabbing the fluffy pillow from next to him and hugging it close to his chest.

"Because I saw him again, before coming here," you blurt, "I wasn't ready for a confrontation. He approached me, already decided to win me back."

"What did you say to him?"

"I couldn't say anything," you mumble, "like words disintegrated on my tongue. I was blank. My heart desired to say one thing but my mind refrained from saying anything at all."

"You really weren't ready to see him," he snickers, "it speaks for the better of you, doesn't it?

"That I don't need him like I used to before?"

"You're growing independent," he points, "he never was the right choice for you, yet you let him get to the deepest parts of you. Liyah, don't make the mistake of going back to him. Find yourself a better man."

"I'm trying to," you sound despondent to him and he suggests, "there's not much time for the night to dawn over. I'll cook something for you and set up the rooftop, like the old times."

You sit up straighter, narrowing your eyes at him while your lower lip tugs down. "I don't trust you in the kitchen. Leave the cooking to me. You go set up the rooftop."

"You're leaving the hard part for me," he groans, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But you know what I like right?"

"Lasagna? Mac and cheese? Jajangmyeon?" you list, pulling yourself out of the bed and staring at him, "I'm whipping up something easy. Too lazy to do go all culinary mode."

He gets out of the bed too, rolling his eyes at you before putting the pillow down. "Just make some P-B-and-J."

"We're not in middle school anymore," you state, already turning on your heels to exit the room. "I'll make some pasta."

"Whatever you want," he shrugs his shoulders and proceeds to walk to the balcony.

"I'll be back soon. Be careful upstairs."

"Don't worry, okay? I've done it countless times before. I'll be fine."

You nod and head downstairs to the kitchen. However, light on your feet, you were shaking with anticipation. Maybe this could be an opportunity to confess? It has to be right? Why else would he suggest it? You know your rooftop rendezvous have always been romantic; what's anti romantic about rooftop dinners? Nothing. Nothing compares to eating under the moonlight with the one you can rely on. It has been a long-time tradition for the two of you. The moment either of you spiralled down the road of depression or anxiety, you'd be up on the rooftop, looking at the stars.

In the kitchen, you're drifting around like a giant cloud, working yourself up to prepare good food for both of you. This is where you in a slump, thinking of easy ways to whip up something delicious. Given, you also had to consider the limited source of ingredients you have in the refrigerator. You're way too over your head, pondering. What if you make something disappointing? What if he doesn't like what you make? You're practically scratching the back of your neck, standing still in front of the closed refrigerator with thoughts circling around one thing; what to make.

Amidst the dense tranquility of the house, you groan out softly and pull the door of the refrigerator. Opening it, you find nothing of useful. This is atrocious. You're contemplating, deranged by the extremities of your mind, you have half a heart made up to prepare peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as he had suggested. But that is too basic. Is that what you would want to feed the man you had been in love with? Probably not.

Your dismayed conscience doesn't let you rest for even a second, immensely saturated on outdated thoughts and emotions; the noise in your head is quite louder than the affable footsteps resonating across the kitchen. It was when a warm hand had engulfed your shoulder bone, then you were brought to your reality with Yunho standing next to you. His face was shrouded with despair yet the desperate shine of the sinking sun had lighten up his eyes; he seemed to be in a melancholic state, lips jutting out. The warmth of his hand slips down your shoulder, alerting you somehow.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you ask, closing the refrigerator door.

He stood adjacent to the window, his ashen hair appearing as a cerulean tuft of sea, his face cherishing the golden glow. Was it possible for him to be any more attractive than he already is?

"I nicked my finger," he mutters, glancing down.

Your eyes trail along his, witnessing the alarming cut on his pinky finger. It was a long gash, deep even; why else would there be rivulets of blood cascading down his skin? Panic stricken, you hold his hand on yours, both of your palms cupped his hand to pull him closer to you. The contrasting shade of blood against his pale skin was terrifying, not as much, but it was genuinely intimidating. More blood oozes out when you bring his hand under your sharp gaze to inspect.

"How can you be so clumsy, Yunho?" you half-yell, half-question him, nibbling on your lower lip.

"I was careful, okay? I don't know how I cut myself; probably on the roof tile or something, I don't know," he explains, exasperated.

"Does it hurt?"

"No."

"I don't see..." you tilt his hand in a way to catch it under the dimming light of the sun coming through the window. "There isn't anything stuck in the cut."

He stays quiet, watching you, leaning over your petite body to wonder what you had been observing for long; it was certainly disporting to him, how you were so keen on studying the little slash on his skin, rather than his eyes which had been speaking to you for years. Absolutely ridiculous. He knows how you were, how eye contact always brought you a sense of unease and discomfort. And maybe holding a serious stare down with him might have been too heavy on your heart, because he even knows how desperately it hammered in your chest.

Biting down on his lower lip, Yunho refrains every strain in his muscles to lift up your chin and kiss your lips right there and then. He had been eager to taste them, always was. You have no idea how dire his yearning is, how avidly he dreams to be with you. In a broader perspective, he understands when to wear his heart on his sleeve and make it obvious to you. And for the time being, he hadn't found the perfect moment to. Not when you were used to relying on him for comfort every time you had a break up. He might not show it, but he absolutely despised all your ex boyfriends, he was jealous too. And listening to your tales of how they treated you, he certainly felt his blood boil. You deserved nothing but queen treatment, and none of your past ventures were treating you like the queen you are.

There's a stifling ache in Yunho's heart, burning all the way to his throat till he's suffocating in the silence he created.

"Come here," you softly tug at his hand, bringing him to the sink, "we'll get this washed first and later we can treat it."

Your attention is focused on his bleeding hand, which showed no signs of stopping any soon. Turning the tap on, you keep his hand under the running water and while the water splashes through, the cut becomes cleaner and devoid of blood. Regardless, it doesn't stop the bleeding.

"Okay, it won't stop bleeding," you grumble, hastily turning the tap off. "What were you thinking, Yunho? How can you be so careless? Oh geez..."

"Hey, it's not that bad, come on." He tries to reassure you, "just slap on a bandaid and it'll be fine."

"It's not going to be fine!" you yell at him, "look at your hand, its like a faucet right now. How do you think a bandaid can stop this?"

You had given your rational and calm thinking to the anxiety; not understanding what to do, you take a step back and stare at him. Helpless. That's what you felt, over a little cut on his finger which won't stop bleeding.

"You're panicking for no reason, Liyah." He sighs, bringing his hand close to his face, "think with a clear mind. Do you have any turmeric with you?"

You nod your head, remembering there's a small jar of turmeric in the back of your condiments cabinet. Quick on your feet, you rush to the cabinet and raise yourself on your tippy toes to open it; once opening it, you scour through it and grab the bottle of turmeric.

"Okay, and?" you stand in front of him, holding the bottle tightly in your hand.

"Take some out and press it gently on my cut," he murmurs, offering you an encouraging smile.

You do as he says, pinching out a little bit of turmeric and pressing it lightly against the cut. The yellow condiment clots with the blood, ceasing the bleed in mere seconds; his hand was still streaked crimson, which was starting to dry on his skin. You should probably tell him to wash it before it leaves a taint behind, but you're too riveted by his hazy smile to let that thought come across your tongue. However what does come to your mind is to bash him for his stupidity.

Taking a breath of relief, you stare at him and groan, "you stupid little jerk! What if it had been serious than that? God..."

"Yeah, even in those circumstances you need to be levelheaded. Panicking won't bring you much satisfaction." He whines, "you wouldn't last a day in nursing school."

You poke your tongue out at him, "I don't need to."

"Silly goose," he mutters under his breath and rolls his eyes.

You were growing too fond of the current situation to retaliate in any way. How often did you get the opportunity to hold his hand? Considering you were best friends there were countless opportunities where you had the chance to. But this was different. Very different from the old times; you were alluded by his eyes to even move away from him. It's not very often that you get caught up like this, with a setting sun, a beautiful gradient of orange and red covering your faces in its sheer glow, and the dithered proximity of nothingness.

Minutes drag by in silence, you didn't want to be the first who moves back, and he didn't want to either. Sullen by the growing darkness, as the sun departs and calls out to the moon to illuminate the world, you're forced to take a step back. You clear your throat, dropping your hands to your side at first, then you timidly tug a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

"It's good to know that you care so much," he blurts out of nowhere, heaving out a breath thereafter, "but you really don't need to worry so much about me. Save that worry for someone who actually deserves it."

"Are you saying, you don't?" you prompt, glancing down at the floor; as the moonlight breaks through the window, you're struck by your inviting silhouettes stretching on the floor.

"I'm not," he whispers, "I don't deserve all of it."

"Oh," you drawl, "you don't have to be such a saint, Yunho. I know my heart."

He takes a step closer to you, "so your heart says to worry about me all the time? Does it grieve when I'm in pain? Does it know what my heart feels?"

"Why are you being so difficult to reason with right now?" you muse, wanting to run away from him, because he had taken another step closer to you, "Liyah, do you even know what..."

"It doesn't matter," you shake your head, suffocated by the closeness between you two. "Your wound's better now. I'll make something easy and meet you upstairs. Just—just carry the six pack with you."

Yunho had something to say, but he suppresses every bit of him and watches you head over to the refrigerator. He stands by your side when you pick up the six pack from the refrigerator; without making a sound, he takes it from your hand and leaves you stranded in the kitchen. There you are, alone in the dark with your gruelling afterthoughts on your outburst. Could it even be termed as an outburst?

Whilst you're closing the refrigerator door, your phone buzzes in the back pocket of your shorts. When you bring it out, you're not surprised to receive several texts from your mom.

Mom 🦋🩵 hey i know its really rude of me to keep you alone and you're just back from college... but i dont think i can make it home early i'll try to get out of here as soon as i can though till then, just spend your time with yunho I'm assuming he's still there see you soon, bby lol

You need to tell her that L-O-L means something else; no one uses it to abbreviate "lots of love" anymore. Stifling a laugh, you urge out a groan because now things were about to get even more awkward between you and Yunho. If at least your mom had been here with you, she would've kept you in loop and not made it seem so awkward.

The fate was on your side to ruin your relationship with him, it seems. Because there's no way you would be able to confess your feelings now. Not that you know he doesn't really care or reciprocate to them. How pathetic. You had been hoping for everything to surf the smooth waves, but in reality it was all crashing down like the high tides in the ocean. Could you really see yourself falling into the deep sea, where barren waters are symbolic of your love for him? You weren't sure anymore.

As the night dwindles along with uncertain time, you are making your way upstairs to your room; the way to the rooftop was through your balcony, a short ladder adhered to the adjacent wall which lead up to a plain space amidst the conceding panels of your roof. It was only a flat surface with meagre space, the centre was covered with cozy picnic blanket. Yunho sat by himself, legs crossed and knees to his chest; he stared up at the sky, looking at the array of glimmering stars. His hair moved with the air, the frisky night breeze playing with him and leaving behind tender caresses against his face.

He grows aware of your presence, as you come to sit down next to him. Placing the plate of food between you two, you bring your knees to your chest as well and stare up at the sky; you were mimicking him, his details. A while goes in silence when he sighs and turns to you, his eyes linger on yours before glancing down at the plate between you two.

"P-B-and-Js?" he muses, letting his lips curl by a corner. "Someone settled for easy."

You roll your eyes, "do you want it or not?"

"Of course," he mumbles, picking up a piece from the plate before taking a bite of it. Amidst all, he hands you a beer from the six pack, "you need to catch up with me."

As you take the bottle from his hand, he waves his own, having held it in his other hand; the bottle had been half-empty, impatiently guzzled. You're muddled as you stare at the crown of the bottle, not knowing how to remove it. Yunho breathes out, expressing his annoyance playfully before snatching the bottle out of your hand and giving you his to hold.

"No problemo," he teases, fishing out his car keys from his jeans and propping it right under the crown; with one simple tug, the crown flies off and falls down, leaving the beer to bubble up. "There you go, ma'am."

"Thank you," you mock, taking the bottle from his hand and giving his back. "You have nice tricks up your sleeve."

"Oh, you don't know..." as he trails off, silence settles between you two.

In the ambiguous nightfall, you two are brooding over little things of your life; the past where neither of you had made it obvious you had a thing for each other. Maybe, you did. You made it so obvious for him to catch up on the hints. But Yunho being Yunho, never got around them. In this solitude of quietness, you wonder if you could speak your heart to him. If you could let go of what shackles you and set your heart free. You wanted to tell him everything, what, how and why.

"Stars bring you a sense of wonder, don't they?" he speaks up, glancing at you before looking back up at the stars.

"I believe they remind me how small we are in the vastness of creation, in the space, in the deliberate cosmos," you mumble, biting your lower lip as you take a sip of your beer. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," he shrugs lightly, "maybe I'm questioning our existence amid the macrocosm. Or, perhaps I am looking for more profound definitions to our bond."

"We're friends, Yunho," you whisper, wispy and breathless, "we have been close to each other since we could remember."

"What if our destiny had been written in the stars?" he questions, turning fully towards you. "It's not coincidental for us to have everything so perfectly arranged; the stars had to do something with our fates. To intertwine them, to make them..."

You don't say a word, whiling in the serenity of arrant obscurity. The light booze was bitter on your tongue, but not as bitter as the words you had trapped.

"Are you instigating something, Yunho?" you guzzle a good amount of beer before picking out a piece of sandwich.

"Maybe I am," his eyes were fixated on you, reading every minute movement, "do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

You turn to face him, mouth full with the bite of sandwich you took, and your eyes seemingly teary. There's something in the way he was looking at you, plump lips trembling in an attempt to get the remaining words out of his mouth, but he did not make a sound. You were too eager to hear him speak; continue with the conundrum he had brought up.

Was he the one confessing?

Was he the first to do so?

So, he does reciprocate your feelings, doesn't he?

"Liyah, I—"

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Your phone rings out loud, alerting you of the incoming texts; you flinch, pulling yourself away from Yunho and taking your phone out from the pocket of your shorts. Caught in a daze, you read the texts you had received.

Song Mingi.

What did he want now?

You open your chats with him and go through the texts.

Mingi 🎀 hey! heard you're back in town why didn't you call me? anyway, since you're back are you free right now? the couple of us are going cliff diving you know, by the abandoned railway line let me know you're in san gets cranky when he doesn't have a total headcount. :)

You quickly reply back to him.

You sure! who else is gonna be there?

You get an immediate response from him.

Mingi 🎀 san, me, alexis, chris felix and jiyeon maybe and yunho... he's with you right? can you ask him? i texted him hours ago he hasn't responded yet

You glance at Yunho and then back at your blaring screen; though, you weren't feeling all too well noticing Yunho shift his attention from you to the stars.

You i'll drag him with me if I have to don't worry we'll be there where do we meet?

Mingi 🎀 oh, everyone's bringing their own cars so i think it's better if we meet directly at the spot leave soon! we're already on our way there. see you shortly bye xoxo

You alright!

You put your phone back inside your pocket, and then proceed to put the half-eaten sandwich back in the plate; tapping Yunho's shoulder lightly, you get his attention.

"Who was it?" he asks, taking a swig of his beer.

"Mingi," you add, "he's invited us to cliff diving." You gulp the remaining bit of your beer and wince, "where's your phone? He's complaining that you aren't paying him enough attention."

"Ah, that dick," he curses under his breath and hastily pulls out his phone from the pocket of his jeans. "My phone has been on silent from the morning."

He goes through his text messages while you finish your beer and place the empty bottle down. "Did you say yes to that?"

"Yeah, why not?" you shrug, "cliff diving sounds really fun. Come on, we should leave already."

Getting on your feet carefully, you dust your the back of shorts unconsciously and as you are about to leave, Yunho sneaks up from behind. One hand on your shoulder, other holding the bottle of beer, he takes a gulp of the drink before murmuring, "are you sure you want to go? It won't be awkward for you with Mingi there?"

You chuckle, "Mingi and I are okay. We're out of the awkward phase."

"Alright," he murmurs and finishes his beer.

Dropping his hand from your shoulder, he follows you back downstairs; the six pack and plate of food are still lying on the rooftop, while the two of you are in the living room. Yunho picks up his abandoned jacket from the couch's armrest and shrugs it on. You do the same, draping the kimono on your shoulders, the one you had taken off after coming home. Meeting with the chilly air outside, you walk to your car parked in the driveway, but Yunho stops you.

"Let's take my car," he suggests, nudging his head in the direction of his house.

"Fine by me." You shrug and pout, finding no harm in the suggestion.

On the way over to his house, Yunho pulls you close to his side by hooking his arm around your shoulder. Your feet fall in synch as you take long strides together; past the broad metal gates of his house, you're strolling on the yellow bricked promenade surrounded by lush bushes, seemingly of flowers which release their heavenly scent at night. The night bloomers, if that thing even exists. You're swayed to the musky undertones of Yunho's scent and the mirth of the grass, not understanding what was happening in your heart or your mind.

For one moment you and Yunho are on the brink of confessing your feelings for each other and the next you're taking a step back and pretending to be okay. Does that even make sense to you? Because it wouldn't make sense to anyone else.

Yunho rubs circles on your shoulders, rubbing his hand thereafter. "It seems like we have a lot of unresolved things to talk about. We'll deal with them later, right?"

You nod, humming along. "Maybe those things don't need resolving. Maybe we just need to be upfront."

"Maybe we do." He mumbles under his breath and once you've gotten close to the garage, he lets go of you.

Standing at a distance, you hug yourself to prevent the cold from seeping in your heart. The gelid breeze of the night is known to be exuberant. You wait for Yunho to bring the car outside, somewhat lost in the meagre revels this night has to offer. The roar of a car's engine reverberates, snapping you out of your reverie to find yourself staring at Yunho's car. He flashes you a worried look before nudging his head at you; taking the sign, you hasten yourself to settle in the passenger's seat.

"You're zoning out awfully lot, Liyah," Yunho states while you buckle yourself in. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Yunho," you assure him, slightly irked by his constant worry. "Let's go, we don't want to make them wait."

Yunho sighs, as if he had given up on you, "okay."

The drive is lot quieter than it would've been if you hadn't ticked off Yunho. Well to say in the least, you both were not in the mood to speak anything at all. The radio was too loud any way, you did not need the silence to be filled with useless babbles. You're staring out of the window, watching the trees pass you by as the night approaches a new beginning. Distant landscapes of open fields and mountains soon disintegrate to a dense forest; the valley starts off from this point on, where the abandoned railway bridge levitates over a lake.

When you find the cluster of cars parked in a small open space, Yunho slows down and pulls his own in line. Killing the engine, he gets the keys out and unlocks the doors. You get out without hesitation or even waiting for Yunho. The nightly air carries a sublime scent of earth and sod, while you're hugging your chest and straying away from Yunho. You could hear the distant chatters accompanied by laughter.

The trees only start growing in number, forming thickets and engulfing everything in their darkness. You find your group of friends standing under a giant elm tree; there were exactly the people who Mingi had mentioned before. San, Chris, Felix, Alexis and Jiyeon, engaged in a conversation led by Mingi. They're standing in a circle, dispersed away from each other; San and Chris had a smoke in between their lips, it made sense why the others maintained distance from them.

Your feet crunch on the dried foliage, hailing their attentions to you as you walk past to stand next to Mingi. The pink haired man offers you a small smile, a curve soon vanishing as he glances in your direction to find Yunho swaying along. Mingi doesn't wait until his best friend is closer to him, he sprints in enthusiasm and hugs the man he had been waiting for. The two share a gripping embrace, while the others engage with you.

To say you missed them, it would be an understatement. All of the ones present here, except for Mingi, left the town to find better opportunities for themselves. Everyone is in different cities now, some studying, some having full time jobs. Your eyes lurk around, rummaging from face to face. San hasn't changed a bit, he was still the guy who loved to dress in all black; he wore a black shirt and black pants, heavy platforms on his feet while his tattoos peeked out from under the sleeve of his shirt. Chris and Felix had a contrasting appearance to them from the last time you had seen them; Chris has gotten buff and toned, his arms bulging and flexing under the cutout shirt he wore, even his thighs were insanely toned under the denim shorts. Felix is still the cute little guy, still wearing his jumpers. Jiyeon is still conservative, having her body covered from head to toe with a maxi dress and as usual, Alexis is being the fashion icon that she is, dressed in chic clothes; a crop top and shorts, exposing as much skin as she could.

"We almost thought you wouldn't come," San begins, blowing out a cloud of white smoke.

Jiyeon follows after, "considering you and Mingi shared that night together, you know the night of our graduation party."

You roll your eyes, slapping your hand on her back as she was on your right, "do you have to bring it up?"

"Yeah, maybe nothing happened between them," Alexis blurts, but then glances at you, "what?"

"Nothing really happened between us." You state.

"Oh, come on, Liyah," Chris says with his thick accent, "everyone has been talking about you two since that night. The town needs gossip."

Felix rolls his eyes, "this town is a deadbeat place, all of us left for a reason."

"Yeah, to seek more opportunities." Mingi crawls back to the circle, Yunho behind him by a few steps. "The town is not a deadbeat town. You guys were obsessed with the idea of leaving."

"Yeah, homie," San chimes, "you stayed back because of your family quarry."

"Do you have any wild animals there?" Jiyeon asks, curiosity peaking in her tone.

"A few bears, a passal of boars, and a herd of antelopes." Mingi puts into words, "the hunting season will start after the summer camp ends."

"Ooh, hunting. Sounds fun," Chris cheers, throwing his burning cigarette down on the ground and stomping on it. "Count me in for that."

"Is it even safe—"

"—hey, Yunho!" Alexis's scream interrupts you, and you watch the said woman leaping into Yunho's arms for an uncalled hug.

Not cool.

Mingi comes to stand next to you, hugging you sideways. It catches you off guard, but you settle into his touch as the seconds pass. Well, you needed it. Because you were bubbling with jealousy as Alexis and Yunho hug. You clear your throat loudly, forcing the two to break their embrace and while they do step back, they start exchanging remarks. Flirty remarks.

Alexis squeezes his arms, "someone's been working out."

Yunho scratches the back of his neck and waves her off. "Not as much working out as lifting manikins for classes."

"You're still doing great," she replies, using her high-pitched giggle. "Speaking of which, how's the college treating you?"

They're lost in a conversation while you're bitterly biting back on your tongue to prevent yourself from cursing someone out. Mingi's arm gets tighter around your shoulder and tugs you close to his body.

You grumble, "she has no reason to stick to him like that."

"And you have no reason to be jealous," San mumbles, interjecting in Mingi's thoughts; he puts out his cigarette by throwing it down and stomping on it.

"He's right," Mingi shrugs, "we know you like Yunho. But he doesn't. There's nothing official between you two, so he's liable for some harmless flirting."

Jiyeon pipes in, "if you ask me, Liyah took too much time to understand her own feelings. You can't be attracted to someone out of nowhere. Either you always are, or you're just blinded by lust."

"Jiyeon makes sense," Felix gives you his two cents, "time waits for none, Liyah. If you had the guts to tell him how you felt on the night of our graduation party...who knows, you might've been together now."

"Why are we yapping, guys?" Chris groans, "Liyah's relationship problems only get worse when they're discussed. We're here to dive. And I don't want to waste my night solving some broken lovers' quarrel."

"I would have to agree with this counterpart," Felix mutters, "before the night gets too dark and ambiguous for us, let's just do what we came here to do."

"See, I told you, no one has any business discussing my issues with Yunho," you grumble, taking a step ahead, "I'm here for a nice swim and nothing else."

Mingi follows in your steps, San and Jiyeon do too; Chris and Felix are behind you all, while Yunho and Alexis are the last ones to be in your pursuit. The walk to the bridge was short, merely spanning for about ten minutes; the railway tracks are buried deep in the count, covered with moss and creepers now. Over the seasons, this place gets denser and thicker, one cannot discern a proper path and might get lost.

The moisture laden air hits your face first, dissipating your jealousy as along the walk you couldn't help but think about Yunho and Alexis at the back, flirting and touching.

Mingi places his hand on your shoulder, "race you to the beams?"

You smirk and spring on your feet, running before he could; the beams were these two broad metal bars holding the front of the bridge, these spanned the entire bridge, adhering and supporting the structure over the water. The rusted beams leave a streak of red on your hand when you touch it, while teasing Mingi with your tongue. Others are right behind you, leisurely strolling.

"Wanna go first?" Mingi asks, pulling his graphic tee over his head and leaving him bare; his body was still drool worthy, having a small crescent moon tattooed on his chest.

He gets out of his pants, exposing himself in snug briefs which outlines his cock all too well. Slipping out of his shoes and socks, he makes sure to not step on any gravel under him. He tugs at the waistband of his briefs, and then extends his hand toward you; patiently waiting for you to take it in yours.

You smile at him, smugly. Ridding yourself off your sandals, kimono, camisole, and your shorts, you stand next to him partially naked. Ignoring the low sounding whistles directed at you, it was probably Chris or someone else; although, you were hoping Yunho had caught up on you and your figure, that is if he wasn't busy entertaining Alexis. It was a good day to choose matching lacy underwear, the material flimsy and a little see-through to show off how beautiful your body is. Wind cuts to your skin, suddenly feeling cold; you take Mingi's hand in yours and he leads along the track. In the moment, you're least bothered about the others, only focusing on your hand laced with Mingi's.

He guides you over a wide barricade, making you take a short leap before you're carefully tiptoeing on the narrow edge hanging over the large water body. Your heart palpitates in your chest, falling into your gut as the adrenaline kicks in. The distance between the bridge and the lake aren't much, just enough for your body to spiral down into the depth; around 25 feet maybe.

Mingi squeezes your hand tightly, getting your attention. "On the count of three."

You nod.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

As the last count echos in your mind, you jump. The support from beneath your feet slipping off, now an empty void of anticipation; you're falling down with Mingi, wind brushing against your body to resist the fall. In the whiling seconds, you come in contact with the frigid barrier of water, then your body submerges inside. Water envelopes you all around, burying you in splintering waves of coldness. You hadn't realised when your hand had slipped off of Mingi's grip, not that it mattered now. Cold currents bubble around you when you swim up to the surface, finding Mingi only a few meters away from you.

Your wet hair sticks close to your skin and face, framing along your cheeks as you try to push away most of it from your eyes. Mingi's hair is in the same condition; he adorns a wide smile on his lips, eyes blinking away the remaining water while he swims closer to you. The warmth of his body captures yours in a gentle touch, arms entwined in your waist, and his face only inches away.

You're laughing, giggling, the sound itself mellifluous to his ears. Clinging onto him, he somehow manages to keep the two of you afloat. In your unconscious state, you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing yourself into his chest.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asks you, rubbing his thumbs into the small of your back.

"Making Yunho jealous?"

He juts his lower lip out. "If you're comfortable with it."

"I think we're already making him jealous."

You glance over your shoulder, tilting your head to look up above; the vast distance doesn't let you discern anything happening on the bridge, yet it brings you a new high of exhilaration thinking about making Yunho envious of you and Mingi. A few more minutes pass and Mingi swims both of you away from the point of impact. More chaos is heard above on the bridge, and with your curiosity bursting apart at the seams, you glance up again to find two silhouettes jumping down.

Splash!

The water around them makes a big splatter, creating waves along the way; when the two shirtless figures resurface, you catch a glint of Chris's lip ring and a glimpse of Felix's blond hair. The two of them are quick to swim toward you two, their laughter echoing across the silent cosmos of forest and the night.

"Fuck, that was incredible," Chris remarks, brushing his hair away from his face.

"Agreed," Felix adds, a little out of breath.

Mingi holds you tighter to him and you realise he had started to lose his hold on you. "I think me and Liyah are going to swim to the shore."

"Yeah, wait for us. I don't think I have enough guts to do this a second time," Felix sputters, spitting out a mouthful of water.

"You're no fun, Felix." Chris comments, and he's interrupted by couple of yells.

Jiyeon and San were next, followed by Yunho and Alexis when a long beat passes; you were still strapped to Mingi's waist, and realising you had been weighing him down, you take the effort to push yourself off of him and remain solitary. Even so, Mingi stays close by you, trying to support you to stay afloat. Water sloshes even more when Jiyeon and San join you all. Jiyeon comes up for air, coughing out water and slicking her hair back; San is right behind her, snickering deeply as though he was enjoying himself.

"I am never letting you guys talk me into anything like this!" Jiyeon complains, her hair clinging to her face.

San heaves out a chuckle, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her down in the water. Jiyeon is taken off guard, and as she comes back on the surface, courtesy of San to pull her back up, she gasps for air, panting and coughing.

"You're—you're fucking dead Choi San." She aims a punch at him, and it lands perfectly against his shoulder.

"What, it was fun! You should step out of your comfort zone more often, Ji." San dodges a couple of punches until she stops; Jiyeon was shivering.

Yunho and Alexis were swimming side by side, listening to the two make a chaos. Your eyes had never left Yunho in that moment, the second he and Alexis resurfaced, you couldn't stop staring at him. Shirtless, his skin glimmered against the moonlight, the water coated his skin in a thin sheet while his ashen blue hair was drenched and stuck to his forehead. He tries to pick at a few strands, pushing them away to expose his forehead. Panting softly, he lets a smile stretch his lips. Though when his eyes landing on you and Mingi, his smile disappears.

"Don't tease her, Sannie," Alexis groans, "if you like her so much, just be straightforward. All the teasing is too old school."

Jiyeon's cheeks turn red, striking vividly under the moonlight. "Shut up, Alexis."

"Maybe she has a point," Yunho adds, "the teasing and mocking tactic is useless with girls now. They need men who are more candid."

Chris chortles, "we all know how straightforward you've been, Yun. Maybe a little too much to have a reputation around high school."

"Oh please," Yunho retorts, laughing along with him, "girls practically threw themselves at me, then."

"And you were a man with principles to not let their efforts be vain." Mingi mumbles, nonchalantly.

"Come on, guys," you chime in, a smile curling your lips, "we all know who had a reputation in high school. So, pinpointing Yunho isn't proving anything. Especially you, Chris."

"Miss congeniality is at her man's rescue again." Chris replies, rolling his eyes at you.

"Hey, leave it, Chris." Yunho speaks up, leaning back into the water, "it's a beautiful night, why ruin it on something so trivial. Let's put our differences aside for a night, huh?"

Mingi agrees, "yeah, I'm with him on this. We're all seeing each other after what, months? Weeks? Years? It'd be stupid to argue anyway."

"I think the bonding can happen out of the water too, because I'm not staying in here for a long time," you add, and earn a couple of hums in response; Alexis, Jiyeon and Felix had agreed to you.

And to your unbridled surprise, they are the first ones to swim towards the shore. There isn't much distance between you and the shore. From your better judgement, it must be, give or take, 10 metres from where you were. Hurtling a soft squeak, you begin swimming away from your group of friends. Mingi is right next to you, paddling through the water; when the water starts shallowing you out, you know you've reached the grimly edge of the landmass extending into the lake. You pace yourself and get on your feet, skimming over the washed borderline and stepping on the gravel.

"Definitely refreshing." You remark, smiling at Mingi who's walking out of the water.

"What else would you need on a summer night?" he chortles, stretching his arms over his head, "do you wanna go again?"

"I wish," you sigh, shuffling your hair to get some water out, "I don't want to catch a cold."

"Understandable," he mutters.

"I'm never trusting you ever again, Mingi." Jiyeon scoffs, "this was dangerous. Way dangerous. What if the water was infested with crocodiles? Or um, snakes? Had you given it any thought before dragging us here?"

"Oh, please," Felix pipes in, "it's a small lake, it can't be that bad."

Alexis giggles, "lakes can be a home for many creatures; snakes are one of them."

"Oh, my lord," Jiyeon groans, "I'm going to kill San."

"So, I'm thinking you're not going to stay around for long?" Alexis instigates and Jiyeon nods her head, crossing her arms over her chest, "I'm not. And neither is San."

"May gods bless thee," Mingi mocks, rubbing his hand over his face, "what about you, Liyah? Staying for another round?"

"I actually don't want to..." you trail off, eyeing behind him as Yunho walks out of the water, followed by Chris and San. "But I was here with Yunho, and I don't think he'd want to leave any sooner."

"I can drop you off," Mingi shrugs, stepping close to you.

"Drop who off?" Yunho repeats, shaking his head like a puppy to get rid of the water in his hair.

Alexis streamlines to his side, subtly, however. Yunho doesn't pay her any mind for the time being, his attention solely focused on you and Mingi. You couldn't concentrate on the matter at hand because you were too distracted by Yunho's bare figure; his body wasn't as buff as Chris or Mingi, or even San for that matter, but he was well built at places he should be. For some reason, you couldn't quite take your eyes off his body, his lower half precisely. The way his briefs stuck to his thighs and crotch, defined the very vague details of his cock. At least now you know what the girls in high school had been talking about, all those rumours of him being 'huge' were starting to reappear in your mind. And you could say, those were no rumours. Those were facts.

"Oh, Liyah wants to go home." Mingi replies, bringing you out of your daze, "since she came with you..."

You step in, feeling the need to be clearer and firmer, "well it seems like you want to stay here for a little longer and I don't want to ruin it for you."

"I can leave with you if you want," Yunho deadpans.

"No, it's fine," you mutter, eyes glazing over Alexis who was now shooting you daggers with her own, "you're meeting everyone after a long time. Might as well enjoy that while it lasts. Mingi already offered, so it's really fine."

"Yeah, we aren't staying around either," Jiyeon scowls, stomping over to San and grabbing him by his arm, "you're leaving with me. And dare if you invite me back for something stupid like this, again."

"Okay, ma'am," San offers a two-finger salute as she drags him along by the arm; he looks over his shoulder and frowns, "I gotta go, homies. Have more fun in my stead."

Jiyeon rolls her eyes at his dramatic speech. Felix catches up with the two and informs us, turning around for a mere second. "This was fun guys, but I think I'll leave too. Don't go too crazy."

"Are you sure you want to be a third wheel between them?" Chris questions, stroking his lower lip to adjust his lip ring.

Felix rolls his eyes and blows a raspberry, giving him a thumbs down. You shift in your place and tug on Mingi's hand, "I think we should leave too."

Mingi nods, looking down at you, "sure." he then turns to others, "be careful, lads."

"We're hiking back up with you, dodo." Alexis rolls her eyes, pushing herself close to Yunho's side; she let her chest brush against his back, eventually she takes his arm in her hold and drags him ahead.

Finding Yunho's gaze fixated on you while he stumbles on his feet along her, the suffocation in the pit of your stomach rises. You wonder what he was thinking, or if he was simply acting out on his jealousy. Though when you look at him sticking to Alexis like that, all your sentiments regarding him, shatter to pieces. While a tinge of envy does arise in your heart, it also brings you a little peace knowing, you had somewhat managed to make him jealous too. An eye for an eye. Only you were waiting for the time when both of you would go blind.

Mingi wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you with him. His warmth is a little treat to yourself, and his presence was your saving grace. You and Mingi were good friends, not as good as you were with Yunho, but you were getting there. As said before, you and Mingi did share a good time together on the night of your graduation party. Something which you had kept under the wraps to prevent your friends from gossiping, or overall prevent Yunho from knowing about it. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, Yunho couldn't fully give his doubts away. He kept suspecting you and Mingi for a few months, until he let go of it in all and moved on from his silly suspicions.

After hiking up the small, elevated terrain to the parking spot, barefoot and wet, you find San, Jiyeon and Felix drying themselves off to the wind. They have their clothes strewn on the trunk of San's car. Jiyeon shivers slightly, coming her hand through her wet hair. Felix and San are busy in a conversation, least bothered about the gauzy cold. In a haste, Chris walks over from behind you and stumbles to his car; he opens the driver's door and pulls out a pack of cigarettes from the side pockets on the door.

So he was a smoker, now. Great.

"I'll go get our clothes. Wait here." Mingi smiles at you, leaving you by his car and disappearing down the inscrutable tracks.

You lean against the trunk of his car, arms over your chest, contemplating and agonisingly listening to Alexis use her pitched voice to flirt with Yunho. Her secondhand compliments were giving you secondhand embarrassment. How can Yunho even tolerate her? Maybe he was too distracted by the way her tits were spilling out of her bra. And you couldn't give a fuck. It's ironic, isn't it? He was minutes away from confessing his feelings for you and now he's sticking to someone who's not. And it all happened because you were too proud in your ways to dally with him.

"Anyone wants to join us for late night dinner?" San announces, "we're going to Amelia's."

Chris raises his hand, "count me in."

Felix retorts, "I thought you were prepared for a round two of diving."

"Maybe now I'm having second thoughts." He blows out a smoke and slams the car door shut. "I wouldn't mind going for a bite."

Yunho shrugs, "me too. All that swimming famished me. And I cannot resist Amelia's deli sandwich."

"Count me in too," Alexis sings, "we both have a lot of catching up to do, don't we?" she bats her lashes at Yunho, who smiles down at her, whispering, "of course, we do. And we need to test all the things you've been texting me."

You don't catch on the very last of his words as they get too inaudible to perceive, but from the smirk on his face, you knew he had double intentions to it.

"What about you, Liyah?" Jiyeon asks and you shake your head, "I'll have to take a rain check. It's just that I'm not hungry. I just want to jump in my bed and knock myself out."

Till the time you reply to her, Mingi comes back with both of your clothes and your sandals. He already had his shoes on when you glance at his feet. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Going to Amelia's, wanna join?" Chris says.

Mingi waves his free hand in the air, "sounds fun, but I don't think I can tolerate that place anymore. You guys can go."

"Alright," Jiyeon mumbles, "so, you and Liyah aren't coming with us..."

Alexis takes on the hint, "they probably want to get busy for the night."

"A late night check in at the hotel vag. Nice work, Mingi." San quips.

Mingi rolls his eyes, "think whatch'ya wanna."

Your flustered cheeks leave no room for others to think of the obvious, or whatever that had been cooking in their heads; Yunho, however, wasn't too impressed by anyone's remarks, neither was he too fond your cherry glazed cheeks. He wasn't the reason why you were blushing; it was Mingi. His ego doesn't let him believe it.

Mingi ignores the low sounding hoots from his friends and hands you your clothes, the camisole and shorts, alongside your kimono. Your lingerie was still drenched in water, and it would be more sensible if you remove them before wearing your clothes. He puts your sandals in front of your feet, and you slip into them easily; keeping the clothes on his car's trunk, you glance at Mingi with hesitance and then clear your throat.

"Do you have anything to cover me while I... you know...get rid of my wet underwear?" you whisper to him, keeping your words between the two of you only. Not that you were worried about other's overhearing you, because they were too engrossed in themselves to be bothered about you two anymore.

Without saying anything, Mingi goes around his car and pulls out the passenger's door; he has a black jacket slung on his forearm as he makes his way back to you.

"Would this work?"

"Sure." You tell him, "just hold it up, I'll change behind it."

Mingi's cheeks turn red, visibly red. "Are you sure you want me to do it and not..."

"He's busy wooing Alexis for the night, so..." you walk to the front of the car, where one side of it was shrouded with darkness and dense branches of trees.

Mingi does as you suggest him to, holding his oversized jacket up to create a curtain for you to change behind it. You quickly get out of the wet bra and panties, and pull your camisole over your head, then the shorts follow. It feels eldritch at first to wear your clothes without your underwear, but you had no other choice but to. Once you settle into it, there's no awkwardness against your skin, and you tell Mingi to lower the jacket. The man had his eyes closed and head turned at all times, showing off his gentlemanliness.

"That was fast," he continues, "for your information, I wasn't looking at all."

"That's fine, Mingi." You laugh and walk past him.

He's right behind you, "but I think you still have a little bit of issue?"

You glance down at your camisole to find your nipples hard and poking through the soft material. "Oops, I actually do."

Mingi gives you his jacket, without hesitating. "Put it on. I'll be back soon."

You shrug his jacket over. It reeked of his scent, a little bit of nicotine and cinnamon musk. The jacket covered almost everything of you, reaching till your mid thighs. It kept you warm, maybe a little warmer than you had liked it to be. Joining the others, you stand next to Jiyeon, waiting for Mingi as he changes into his clothes where you had changed.

"Ooh, Mingi's jacket, isn't it?" Jiyeon teases, noticing you standing next to her.

You scoff, "it's not what you think."

Unconsciously or consciously, your eyes scatter in search of Yunho amongst the familiar faces. He's not there, neither is Alexis. Your stomach rumbles with jealousy, only a little.

"Don't look for him, he's not here," Chris slurred his words.

"Him and Alexis have gone to bring their clothes and stuff," San shrugs, "are you trying to make him jealous, Liyah?"

"Me? Jealous? Me making him jealous? Oh please," you roll your eyes, scoffing.

"Just thought, because he's been riling you up for nothing; him and Alexis are getting on your nerves it seems." San adds.

Mingi whistles along, marking his presence next to you and while he does, Yunho and Alexis walk out of the dark, hand in hand, both smiling at each other for some apparent reason. You twist your nose and look away, turning yourself to Mingi, you cling by his arm and bury it in between your tits. Mingi is obviously taken back by your stern action, and so does it catch Yunho and the other's off guard.

"Let's go, Mingi," you pout, looking up at him, "we should leave. I'm cold and I want to take a nice warm shower with you."

San rolls his eyes. Chris scoffs. Jiyeon snickers. And Felix curses under his breath, annoyed by your act. They all knew you were pretending and playing along. But Yunho didn't. He believed every word you said and clenched his jaw, tight enough for his cheek to twitch. Alexis was on the same boat as him, believing your frolicsome ruse.

Mingi clears his throat, tugging a few strands of your hair behind your ear and lets his eyes linger on you. It was driving him insane to not do anything at this moment, because somewhere along the lines, he never stopped liking you. He was ready to compromise his silly love for you, all for yours and Yunho's sake.

It takes a minute for Mingi to form his words. "Eager, aren't we?"

"Oh come on, you silly." you slap his chest, playfully, yet Mingi yelps in pain. "We've got a lot of catching up to do and let's be honest, it's not going to happen while we're still here."

"You're right about that," he chimes, looking up, "we'll see you guys later, or at the summer camp. Don't forget, you guys gave me your names for volunteering. Don't back out now, or else there'll be consequences." Mingi warns them, earning a round of groans and whines.

Mingi slips one of his hands around your waist and hides you to his car; San yells out from behind, "wear a glove when making love!"

You could clearly hear Yunho scoff amid the teasing from your friends, but you choose not to react to it. You're suppressing your queasy emotions to yourself, bottling them quite nicely as you get in Mingi's car and strap yourself in. The engine roars when Mingi revives it and pulls out of the parked space.

The ride along with Mingi isn't quiet, no, not at all. Passing by the night of crippling elation, and unsaid judgments, you stare out of the window and ponder. You stole a few glances from Mingi, who hummed an unsung melody under his breath. The chunky rings on his thumbs and fingers, tapped an obscure tune on the steering, an addition to his dilly dally singing. You both had things to say, many more feelings to state and confide, yet you were caught up amid a war of who'd be the first to go.

Mingi clears his throat, "is he still so oblivious or chooses to play dumb?"

You groan, softly in your mind thinking about Yunho and his stupidity. "I don't know, Min! He can't be so blind to all the times I've came through for him."

"So, you think he chooses to play dumb?"

"Maybe, he thinks we don't have a future," you mumble, turning to face him, "and maybe he is right. We can't even be sure of the present to talk about our future. We push and pull, and we'll continue pushing and pulling until one of us breaks and blurts out everything."

Mingi tries to figure out how he would respond to your said comments. In actuality, he had the same idea about the two of you.

He sighs, "you have to take a stand, Liyah. Let him know."

"I know."

And the night dissolves your mind in the haphazard nonchalance of nothingness.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

             Five days volunteering at the summer camp, and you were drained. It wasn't easy looking after kids, they're moody, picky eaters, and rebels. Though for some contemplative reasons, your experience with the kids wasn't as bad as it was with Yunho. In the sheer curiosity of nature, you were left alone; speaking in simpler terms, you and Yunho had a rift between each other, leading to no interactions over the span of this summer camp. You spent most of your time volunteering anyway, so it didn't matter. Not exactly when you also had Mingi's assistance to you for every little thing.

You and Mingi had bonded over the time, it would be the same with you and the others. Talking to your fellow friends, you come to learn how they were handling their lives. Jiyeon is working part time with an animal rescue NGO. San has dropped out of college and chose to be on a professional parkour team. Chris continues to be a menace in his medical school. Felix is an artist's understudy and manages his studies at the art school. And Alexis is pursuing her long-lost passion for being a fashion designer. They're all busy in their lives, headed for the future and passionate about their careers. Catching up with them would be the best moment of coming back here.

"And last summer, she wore my designed outfit!" Alexis chimes in full excitement. "You know, that's when I felt accomplished as a fashion designer."

"It's one of the most famous music artists in our country right now, I wouldn't second guess your happiness." Yunho compliments her, hugging her close to his body.

As the day had passed, all the kids were back to their homes, and as you had time to spare, Mingi suggested ending the night on a jovial note. The night dragged on to be a beautiful one with a full moon high struck in the sky, and what is better than a campfire to spend such an alluring night? You were all sitting in circles, surrounding the fiery pit of fire, the scent of burning wood nuzzling into your nose and the warmth of the fire settling into your skin. The fire crackles far too often, dissipating in the mellow undertones of your chatters. On the scattered logs, you sat next to Mingi; there were two people on each log. Chris and Felix were together, Jiyeon and San were snuggling up right next to you and Mingi, and Yunho and Alexis were sitting opposite to you two. There were other volunteers too; the eccentric teens of the town had left early, leaving your group of friends to luxuriate in the night.

Rising flames of the fire interrupted most my view, but not much. You could catch the glimpses of Yunho and Alexis being touchy and feely, some part of you absolutely despised it while the other waited around for everything to unfold. Mingi gave you solidarity, supporting your crazy notions as the time rolled around. Jiyeon and San were acting very much like a couple; it's not surprising considering they moved to the same city, rent a same apartment, and live together. It was bound to happen one way or another. Chris and Felix did not disclose their love life just yet, not that you know of.

"It was the best feeling ever," Alexis sings, adjusting herself by Yunho's side.

Yunho lets her do as she pleases; he wraps his arm around her waist to pull her close; their bodies seemed to be conjoined and it did not bode well with you.

Yunho chuckles, "of course, it was..."

Their voices die to mere whispers in your mind, you're too fixated on Mingi's feeble attempts at easing you out. He rubbed circles on the curve of your back, his warmth was more intense than compared to the fire in front of you; but seemingly you had started to burn for a completely different reason.

"You have to do something, Liyah." Mingi speaks up, "you can't let her win. Alexis only wants to parade Yunho around for her own sake. He's a trophy wife for her."

"You think I don't know that Mingi?" you bark, taking him off guard. Your aggression wasn't limited to yourself anymore, it was directed at Yunho too. "No one can love him like I do."

He pulls you in for a side hug, embracing your body with his as he leans his head on yours. Pushing you against his chest, he brings his hand to stroke through your hair.

"I know that." He mumbles, "everyone here knows that. Except for him. He's a blind dick, just be upfront with him."

You raise your head from his chest and deadpan, "geez, I never thought of that. Thanks a lot, Mingi."

"Happy to help," he replies back, catching up on your satire. "I'm being serious though. Ask him to meet you at your—oh no..."

Mingi's eyes had been trained on you, but when he takes them off, only for a second, he's met with a catastrophic happening. Brazen and curious, you nudge your neck in the direction his eyes were stuck in. And the ground under your feet opens wide, ready to swallow you.

Yunho and Alexis were kissing. Yes. They were swallowing each other's mouth, and it was a sight you couldn't bear. So, you do what any sensible woman would do, after seeing her crush kissing someone who's not her. You storm off. You run away. You're quick on your feet, untwining Mingi's arms from you and scurrying off into the wild dark. Mingi's protests aren't enough to stop, neither are the silent ones coming from others; you're scampering in your boots to get away from the campfire spot as fast as you could. Only, you hadn't realise that someone else had followed you right after.

For the first time in his years of friendship with you, Yunho was feeling utterly helpless. Disappointing you was never on his list; he didn't want to let you down either. He didn't think he'd break your heart by playing a wicked game of push and pull. He took it too far. Obviously. In the middle of the dense forest, he's in your pursuit; his feet are in synch with yours, but his pace makes him fall behind. He was listening to you sob and sniffle and to him, those were the most vulnerable sounds he had ever heard from you.

"Liyah, wait!" he yells, and you slow down.

Walking on the graveled ground, a path leading to the set of cabins situated at distance from each other, you stop and turn. You find him behind you, right behind you. Remorse evident in his eyes, and his lips quivering; you couldn't bear to see him like that. Never in your years of friendship had you seen him like that. The happy go lucky guy had a frown on his face, tears in his eyes, and guilt painted all over his skin. Of course, you'd be astonished to find him in such condition.

Moonlight breaks through the branches of the tall trees around you, the scent of mildew and moss spreading to the moisture baring air; his face shrouded with darkness, lights up when he steps into one of the moonbeams. And he's breathtaking. He always was.

"What do you want, Yunho?" you spit, spitefully.

"Can we talk?"

"I don't want to talk to you," you state and turn on your heels, ready to storm off again.

Though, before you could even take a step ahead, you're pulled back into something hard; a tight grip on your wrist burns through your skin and constraints any movement from you.

"What?" you gasp, peeking through your squinted eyes to find Yunho's staring right into yours.

You're pressed up against his chest, cheeks turning red when you realise how close you two were. There hadn't been a time where you were so close to each other. With how blatantly the proximity had dithered between you two, you couldn't think straight. Even so, you try to snatch your hand away from his grasp, wanting to be free of his hold. He doesn't let you, he doesn't even budge when you're using all your strength to get his hand off your wrist; you started clawing at his hand, but that didn't work either.

"I told you I don't want to talk to you," you state, firmly.

"But I want to." He whispers, "please, hear me out."

You press your lips together, letting your hand fall down to your side; his skin broke with your nail marks, blood clotting under, waiting to ooze out. Time stands still here, amid the inky phases of your heart; forest speaks of nothing, no sound at all, letting your hearts beating in the while. As the clouds shift against the nightly breeze, the moon hits your faces, lighting up your eyes.

"Okay," you mutter, "I'll hear you out."

He clears his throat and let's go of your hand. Taking a step back from you, he runs a hand through his hair, which falls disheveled on his forehead. Accustomed to his growing silence, you have half a mind of turning away and sprinting back to your cabin.

"What you saw with—what you saw with Alexis, it wasn't my—"

You interrupt him, "it wasn't your fault. I get it. She was the one who came onto you. You had no hand in this..." he looks less guilty hearing you, so you add, "don't bullshit me, Yunho. It always takes two—takes two. Neither of you are innocent."

As your voice breaks, the light in Yunho's eyes starts dwindling down. "Liyah, please..."

"What, Yunho?" you sniff and tears well in your eyes, "you want to justify your behaviour? You want to validate how you feel about me? What do you want?"

Being pushed past your limits, you shake your head and close your eyes shut; turning on your heels, you stride down the vague path leading to the cabins where you were staying in. You must've taken a couple of steps ahead, about to take another when your world spins around; it only stops when you're pushed up against a nearby tree. The way your back hits the trunk causes pain to strike your spine; but then you also realise how confined you were to it, with Yunho's hands holding you down by your shoulders.

"Don't piss me off, Liyah." He states, leaning in close to let his breath tickle your face. "That'd be very detrimental of you to do so."

"Am I pissing you off now, oh." you deadpan, placing your hands on his chest to shove him away. That seemed like the only viable option for you. "I'm so sorry."

"Keep your sarcasm to yourself, Liyah," he mutters, inching closer to let his lips brush against yours, "you want to know why I let Alexis play me like a violin?"

He takes your silence for a yes and continues, "because I wanted to know what your heart truly desires. Did it even want me, or was I just fantasizing a future between us which doesn't really exist?"

"You could've asked me," you mumble, your lips quivering as your stomach twists inside, "you could've asked me, and I would've been upfront with you, Yunho."

Tears spill out of your eyes, streaming down your cheeks. He couldn't watch you cry. Looking away for a second, he trains his now teary eyes on you.

"Asked?" he repeats, "Liyah, we've both been lying to each other since our senior year in high school." His hands slide down to your waist, wrapping around to maintain some distance between you and the tree trunk. "We would've never been real with each other. Let alone, even confessing to each other felt like such a task for us."

"Then what were you trying to do, Yunho?" you mumble, keeping your hands on his chest, "you kissed Alexis. And before that, you gave me hope that we could be together. Now, you're saying we should've been more straightforward with each other. You're not making sense."

"I know I'm not," he grumbles, "because nothing makes sense to me now. I thought you'd confess to me on the rooftop, I had prepared a long ass speech for you, confessing my feelings too. But then, you brought up Mingi—"

"—nothing ever happened between me and Mingi," you intervene, letting your lips form a frown, "the night of our graduation party, he did ask me out. But I turned him down. You know why? Because I liked you." Suffocating under his gaze, you take a deep breath and continue, "I didn't want to start something with him if it meant I had to break him soon. Because I was too hopeful for either of us to make a sound. I was eager to be in a relationship with you. I was impatient to tell you how badly I had fallen for you. But then, we never said anything. We only ruined it for us. How long were we going to yearn in silence?"

Yunho takes a moment to process your words, your phrases of sheer truth before he instigates, "so, you and Mingi...?"

"No, we're not together," you shake your head, groaning softly as you push your body into his; your hands slip from his chest to the either side of his waist.

"Ah really?" he rasps, resting his forehead on yours, "then I wouldn't mind making a sound. I like you too, Liyah. Oh, to hell with it, I think I love you."

You bite back on chuckle, rubbing the sides of his waist as you lean into his touch. "I think I'm falling in love with you too."

"Hmm," he hums before grunting in pure impatience, "ah, fuck it."

In a fraction of a second, his lips meet yours, capturing a daze of lust and hunger before melting into utter passion. He delicately cups your face, the palms of his hands ever so softly caressing your keeps; he tilts your head slightly, giving him the chance to deepen the kiss. You're drowning in the way his lips lay so gentle against yours. Basking his lips into yours, you whimper as frailly as you could, bringing your hands up to his shoulders for support.

The kiss only grows deeper than before, with him pushing his body into yours and keeping your chest flushed against his. Desperation is evident in the sound of his grunt, and in the way his chest rumbles; his teeth sink in your lower lip, thumbs pressing your cheekbones before pulling himself back and letting go of your lower lip. He watches your lip wobble with amusement, smirking to himself as you whine almost inaudibly.

"You know, we were chasing stars in the dark, blindfolded," he murmurs, nudging the tip of his nose with yours, not moving quite back yet. The warmth of his breath sends shivers down your spine, causing tremors to creep on your skin. "We couldn't see our feelings for each other, but at least we knew they were there."

"Yeah yeah, I get it," you huff out, pulling him by the collar of his jacket, "I've waited too long for you, now, why don't you shut up and kiss me?"

"Yes, ma'a—" you tug him down, putting your lips on his to shut him up.

Grasping onto the collar of his jacket, you push yourself into him; your toes curl in your boots upon feeling the lushness of his lips. You're far too gone to resist your desires. All the years of curbing your carnality for him had led up to this moment, where you're kissing him back as ravenously as you could. The hunger is evident in the way his lips move against yours; he bites down on your lower lip, eliciting a murmured gasp from you. The dainty vibration of your noise gets absorbed in the kiss, breaking out into a small and heated make out sesh under the starlight.

Yunho's hands slip away from your face, grazing past your collarbones and then down to your waist. He brings your hips into his, heedlessly grinding his crotch on yours. The feelings make you an airhead, too dazed to realise when his tongue had slithered past your swollen lips and into your mouth. His sloppy, wet and warm tongue plays with yours; its roughness melts when you tackle his tongue with your own, moaning. This was too much, too much all at once; his hips rolling into yours, showing you how eager he was to take you right there and then. You couldn't really believe how desperate he was, or how you could sense the hardness of his cock through his trousers.

Your mind goes blank, chest heaving into his as your body goes erratic to him shoving his tongue down your throat. He twists and turns it inside, plunging down further to touch extreme end of your palate. His tongue almost makes you gag, but neither of you pull away. Not even when your lungs were crumpling and urging you to take a breath. His fingers dig into your flesh, leaving marks through your nifty tank top. Heat starts rising up your cheeks, tipping off every inch of your body when you come to your senses; you were kissing Yunho. The Jeong Yunho whom you had been crushing over for years.

The wait was worth it.

Yunho gasps as he pushes back, taking a deep breath in through his mouth and you watch his chest rise invariably.

"I think we should take this inside," he pecks your lips, "I can't bear this any longer. I fucking need you..."

You brush his hair, letting your fingers tangle in his silky strands while you swipe your tongue on his lower lip. "Do you really?"

He grunts, sounding deep and dark; before you could do anything else to him, he grabs both of your hands by their wrists and pins them above your head. Diving back in to resume the covetous kiss, he sucks on your lips, akin to shut you up. You let him devour you, quite literally; his teeth scrape over your lower lip and you bite back a whimper. His other hand teasingly drags to the hem of your tank top; wasting a second, tracing light circles on your skin, he lets his fingers divulge under first. The cold tips of his fingers delineate strokes until his whole hand is under your top. His fingertips graze the lower part of your tit, teasing you.

He breaks the kiss through halfway again, pushing your body down from the way he held your hands.

"Are you fucking talking back to me?" he leans in to kiss you again, but doesn't really; his lips hover onto yours, so painfully close yet so far away. "Yeah, I fucking need you. I've been craving all of you for the past six years. Your lips, your heart, your soul, I want to touch it all."

"I'm not stopping you, am I?" you whisper, lurching forward to kiss him but he's quick, and tilts his head away. You pout, "you're a—"

He doesn't let you finish and kisses you, stealing your breath away. "Baby, I'm incharge. You better not open your mouth for anything other than moaning and whimpering like the sweet little girl you are."

You nod, humming.

"That's my good girl, now..." he drags his voice to a grumble; he lets go of your hands and instead, hooks his around your knees and picks you up.

"Yunho!" you gasp as you're lifted and slung on his shoulder. His other hand comes to cup your ass, while the one supporting you stays around your waist.

He doesn't respond to you and carries you away from the dark; the upside down view of yours tells you exactly where he was taking you. Catching the glimpse of your cabin, and the bright light on porch of the cabin, you anticipate what's to come. The cabin door is shoved open inside, too harshly to keep it from making any sound. As the vibrations of the thud drown out, you're thrown on the twin sized bed of your cabin.

It's dark, not pitch black, but dimly lit because of the moonlight flooding through the sole window situated above the bed. You huff in stifling annoyance, laying on the bed and supporting yourself by your elbows. Hearing bellicose shuffles from Yunho, you peek up to find him taking his jacket off. It is then thrown on the floor, leaving him in only his black trousers and a pale blue button-down shirt. Amidst the darkness, he meets your eyes, and they don't waver one bit; he crawls onto the bed, and you saunter back till you hit the wooden wall behind you.

"What, are you scared?" he prances close to you, like a predator approaching its prey. You shake your head, and he chuckles, "you can use your words, sometimes."

You purse your lips together, not wanting to utter a sound because you were sure it'd have its own consequences. Squeezing your thighs together, to try not to make it seem obvious that you were beyond aroused, feeling your slick drench your panties and your shorts. Yunho's body shudders visibly as he lets out a harmless laugh, bringing his hands to roam your body before they end up around your waist. He's trapped you against the wooden panelling behind, with his body pressed up against you instead. Moonlight hits his eyes, illuminating the sheer lust in them; pools of melted honey had suddenly succumbed to their darkness. He's perfectly slotted in between your legs, and you take merest of efforts to wrap them around his waist. With an arch of your back, your hips buck into his and your cunt is in direct contact with his raging erection.

"Okay, don't want to speak?" he whispers, tracing the tip of his nose along your cheek and gliding it further down, "fine. Don't. I'll be getting some sounds out of you, anyway."

Yunho likes how you were so desperate for him, how you were rolling your hips to get more friction; practically grinding on his cock, you tried to gauge how big he was. You always knew from the rumours that he was huge, but this was the moment where you'd be witnessing it for yourself. He bites down your lips, before pulling back and sticking his tongue out. You do the same and bring him closer to you by wrapping your hands around his neck. Expecting him to kiss you, you're left stunned when he sucks on your tongue instead. He sucks on it as if it was a piece of candy.

The sloppy sucking turns into sloppy kissing, and you groan into the kiss, intertwining your fingers in few strands of his hair falling over his neck. Yunho chortles, grinding his hips on your cunt to show how hard he was now. You can't think straight; first of all, it's starting to get dark in the cabin, second of all, Yunho's lips had been driving your insane, and third of all, his cock was rigid and feeling it through your clothes was starting to turn you off. Yunho breaks the kiss, pulling back just a little; translucent strings of spit cover both of your lips, keeping them in an illusion of being attached.

A mischievous smirk curls on his Yunho's lips, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck; leaving back bruises, he bites and sucks on your flesh. He knew your weak spot, you had shared it to him the day you had lost your virginity; it was a mistake telling him, because he was figuratively, abusing it for you. The spot lied three fingers below your earlobe, and he was nibbling on the exact spot to bring out the worst in you. It's gonna be bruised purple and blue, and Yunho's going to take the pride in it.

"Yunho!" you gasp and moan, tilting your head to a side to let him have better angle to abuse your neck. Lost in the wind of pleasure, you let your hands slide down his back, resting delicately on his shoulder blades.

"I know," his smirk widens, "did you think I wouldn't remember it?"

The clutter of his whisper melts to silence. His hands which had been on your waist for all this time, were starting to creep up. Except, he had the hem of your tank top in his hold. Pulling it up to your collarbone, he mumbles incoherent words against your neck as your tits spill out. You did not find it practical to wear a bra after your evening shower, and now that you think about it, you made a good decision not to. Yunho's cheeks turn an alluring shade of red upon catching a glimpse of your perky tits.

There had been accidental glances before, whenever you'd wear low cut tops or dresses, even your strapless tops exposed much more of your cleavage than you would intend on. Yunho respected your body, and the boundaries which were conspicuous in a friendly way; he might not be so blatant about it, but on a night or two, you were the starlight of his fantasies while he jerked off. In fact, he would've sworn off on his own words, if it weren't for your thoughts helping him 'get it on' with his ex-girlfriends. He would never disclose that to you, would he? During those moments however, whenever he'd be struck by post-nut clarity, he'd feel ashamed and guilty.

Well, not anymore.

Your body is bewitching, making him lose his senses; the movement of his hips ceases in a sudden state, wrenching out more desperation from you as you heedlessly keep bucking yourself into him. You wonder what made him stop, and your curiosity is sated almost immediately when he pushes himself back and supports himself on his knees. His sleek fingers work on the buttons of his shirt, coming undone one by one. He doesn't take off his shirt just yet only unbuttons the top half of it while leaning over to capture your lips in a head spinning kiss.

His lap on yours, devouring the sweet essence; you press on a moan, rolling yourself into him and pushing your bare chest against his. The soft material of shirt rests over your tits, tickling the pit of your stomach as you continue to push your chest into his. Yunho's chest collapses with a guttural moan, pulling himself away from the kiss. He offers you a smirk, before using his hands to pull the tank top over your head. It's off and thrown on the floor, keeping you bare on your top half for him.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks you, cheeks still red and alluring. Leaning over, he rests his forehead on yours, and lets his lips brush against yours.

You let your hands hover on his back, dipping your fingers only for their tips to lightly ghost along till you wrap them around the nape of his neck and pull him in. "Yeah, as sure as I've been about my feelings for you."

"There's no going back after this," he cups a side of your face and pecks your lips, "so, if you're having second thoughts, just tell me."

"I'm not," you mumble, breathlessly pressing your lips with his, "I want this. I know you want it too."

"Well, I've been wanting this since the day I got myself to fall for you." He smiles, bringing one of his hands to grab yours on the back of his neck. "A lot of things have happened in my mind since then, a lot of fantasies, a lot of desires..."

Before you could ask him about them, he quickly grabs your hand and pins it over your head; he does the same for your other hand, and ignoring your whines, he constraints both of your hands with his one. He's back to rolling his crotch onto yours, giving you the sensory stimulation of his erection through your clothes. The urge to rid yourself from the confines of your shorts was beyond anything, wanting to be naked for him to grind himself on you. As if that thought wasn't enough to make you wet, you were actually clenching at the friction of his cock against your cunt.

The shorts had to go. And his clothes too. You were mewling despair, having never considered yourself desperate for someone's cock as much as you're right now. His knees sunk into the mattress underneath, while your legs remain wrapped around his waist; he slides his free hand down to the waistband of your shorts, fingers fumbling to unbutton and pull them off.

"I just need to know you're okay with everything I have to do."

"Do you need a written consent now?" you groan, annoyed and irritated. "You can do whatever you want, I have no complaints."

"Be careful with what you say," he warns you, forcing his hips into yours to give you more of him. "I don't want you crying later on."

"What do you take me for?" you stick your tongue out, "I have been with many guys before you."

"Did you really have to mention that?" he grunts, pushing his hand past the waistband of your shorts; while his other hand kept yours bound above your head, he was making the best with his one free hand. "I'll teach you a lesson, make you forget about everyone in your past."

"I'll like to see you try—ah fuck, Yunho!" you gasp, fisting your hands tighter when his fingers press on your clit.

"That's right, scream my name," he growls, burying his head in the crook of neck and biting your flesh harshly.

You were going to have red and blue splotches littered all over your skin tomorrow; and that would make it everyone obvious of yours and his nightly venture. Yunho's teeth sink further while his fingers slither along your slit, rubbing you up and down through your panties, making you moan out loud.

"Yunho..."

"Huh, what is it?" he mumbles against your skin, licking the spots he had marked and bitten.

"Please..."

"I don't understand one-word answers, doll," he chuckles, the vibrations preening your skin. "Be clear and say what you want. I'll give it to you."

"Fuck—fuck you," you say out of spite, grumbling as your eyes shut close and darkness takes over. You couldn't stare at the ceiling while he abused your neck, and his fingers worked you up.

"Uh-huh," he tuts, ceasing the movements of his fingers, "what a foul mouth. Be nice or else I won't touch you at all." He brings his hands out and your eyes flutter open at the emptiness; you whine, "please, Yunho. I won't—I won't say that again."

"And I'm supposed to trust you?"

"Please..." you whine again, bucking your hips up. "I'll do whatever you want next time."

"I'm more of a provider than a receiver." His hand dives back in your shorts, his fingers rubbing you through your panties. "And I think we're wasting too much time already."

The moonlight shines through the window again, illuminating half of his face for your eyes; it hits his chin and his nose, keeping his own eyes shrouded in dark. You roll your hips into his fingers as they continue their motion, going up and down along your slit and pressing against your clit whenever they could. Squinting your eyes shut tight, you let the pleasure build and your slick grows denser in your panties; it soaks through, coating bits of his skin as he keeps rubbing you down.

"Getting wetter by the second, I see. Really fucking desperate, aren't you doll?"

He pulls himself back altogether, "keep your hands up, or else I might have to punish you."

You nod, pursing your lips together and then crossing your wrists over another to fix them above your head. In the darkness, as the moon crosses your window, you catch a glimpse of Yunho shrug out of his shirt and hold it in his hand. He keeps it to a side before grabbing your waist and pulling you down on the bed, with such ease that you felt weightless. You plop against the mattress, yelping softly as you let him do as he pleases with you.

"You know, I don't really trust you with your hands," he muses, leaning over as he brings his hand back on yours. "So, let's keep them away for the night."

Taking the sleeves of his shirt, he crosses and loops them around your wrists and then hooks them up with the short and narrow rail of the bed. The sleeves come out in front of the rail, right where the headboard and he ties a tight knot. Your hands are stretched above your head, while you're lying restrained on the bed.

"Perfect." He clicks his tongue and moves back.

Bending his knees and sinking into the mattress, he is right in between with your legs on either side of him. He supports the underside of your thighs, arching your lower back up as it gives him better control over you. Without wasting any time, he effortlessly tugs your shorts down and rids you of them. Light crumpling follows and you know your shorts are lying on the ground along with your top and his jacket. You're squirming under him, too exposed to his eyes, even though you were in your panties; tilting your head up, you peek at him and watch him wet his middle and ring finger with his spit. The sheer coat of them shines under the moonlight and you groan, already anticipating what's to come.

He smirks lightly, as he lets the pads of his fingers rub on your mound through the panties at first and then drags them painstakingly down along your slit, pressing gently against your clit along the way. With a few more strokes, your mouth falls open, moans whispering past it as he picks up his face. His spit covers your soaked panties, wetting them further and they act as your second skin; he purposely presses hard along your slit, eliciting a throaty moan before it subsides to a whine.

His fingers were off of you, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness and confusion. "Let's get you out of these, shall we?"

With one swift breath, he hook his fingers under the waistband one tour panties and tugs them all the way down; you're completely exposed to him, shuddering in your skin as his hungry eyes drink every detail of your cunt. Your panties loosely hang by his pinky finger, while an ordained smirk teases his lips and keeps them parted. He starts palming his crotch, closing his eyes and throwing his head back for the mere minute as his cock begins to harden in his briefs.

"Look at the sheen on those lips," he coos, amused and eyes now fixed on your cunt. And you knew he definitely wasn't talking about the lips on your face. "Fuck, doll. Were you that eager to be fucked by me? So wet and eager for me."

He's teasing you and it's turning too embarrassing for you; closing your eyes you turn your head and whine, "fuck you."

At the realisation, your eyes shot open and stare at him in pure fright, but also a little bit of anticipation. He did warn you before, to keep your mouth clean and shut; now that you had openly cursed at him, all left to do was to wait for the consequences be bestowed on you. Yunho's eyes turn dark, lost in the carnal desire and prolonging the silence before he sighs, a sigh which translates to nothing but terror for you.

"What did I tell you?" he grunts, asking you a question in his commanding tone. "I asked you to keep your mouth shut. If you got nothing better to say, then don't say anything at all...right?"

As your chest rises and falls, convulsing to his utter lust and hunger, you press your lips together and prevent from squeaking any sounds; but to your unbridled surprise, his other hand comes flying to grab your jaw and fingers poke into your cheeks. He's too rough and savage as he forces your mouth open and stuffs your panties in your mouth.

"Much better." He remarks, sinking back on his knees and in between your legs; he fixes his gaze on you, and nudges his head. "If you let that fall from your mouth, oh baby, I don't know what might happen to you."

"Nghhhh..." even your groan gets muffled, and your tongue stays flat against the floor of your mouth; the smooth material of panties does chafe your tongue, but it's only in the slightest.

"Good girl," he praises, delighting himself with a smile before placing his hands back under your thighs. "Now, I have a treat for myself."

Licking his lips, he slouches himself in a way to have his face lowered in between your legs; his warm breath ghosts over your mound, then slowly tickles your skin as it drifts to your slit and folds. He grips your thighs tightly, dentures forming in your flesh as he does. Spreading your legs apart and keeping them propped on his tight, he drools at the sight of your cunt stretching out itself. It wasn't much, but it was enough for his cock to strain painfully in his pants.

"You're so beautiful, Liyah." He mumbles, fluttering a soft kiss over your mound before going further down, "I'm jealous of all the men who got to see this beauty before me. Holy fuck—just the thought itself makes me want to ruin this tight little thing."

His words vibrate against your skin, making you moan and urging you to scream. Alas, you can't really voice your pleasure or your desires. The wispy sensation of his breath tells you how close he was to your cunt, lips hovering over and with only a slight tilt of his head, he'd be all buried in you. The warmth of his hands slowly starts creeping up your thighs, fingers splayed and pressing to create bruises on your skin.

"I have your consent to do what I want, right, Liyah?" he mumbles, cupping the lower part of your ass.

You groan out loud to answer him, finding it extremely torturous to have your hands tied and mouth gagged. Unspoken tremors spread under your skin when his thumbs press against your folds, pulling them apart to reveal the hidden details behind them. He hums in satisfaction at the sight of your pink flesh blooming into delicate petals. You feel the mellow stretch burning your heart, combusting you whole as your patience run low. If your hands were free, you'd be pushing his head in between your legs, wrap your thighs around his face and suffocate on your juices.

Sadly, it was only confined to your mind as Yunho was pacing his actions slowly and steadily. His thumbs press on your fleshy folds furthermore, putting you entirely on a display for him; you swollen nub tautens, needing attention, your arousal just keeps flowing out. You throw your head back into the mattress, arching your neck and holding your tears in; this was embarrassing, but in a good way. You were utterly humiliated to have your best friend slotted in between your legs, learning and identifying every detail of your cunt.

You grumble in frustration and chagrin; all your desires and fantasies erupting a sense of pleasure and wonder in your heart.

"Fucking hell, you sound so heavenly right now." He comments, smiling.

As your stretched cunt glints with an appealing shine (from your arousal), it becomes quite difficult for Yunho to control his inner animal. He dips his head in, tongue sticking out and flat to lick up your slit first. Puckering his lips, he presses a few kisses on your mound before gurgling out a good amount of spit; the coldness of his spit trickles down, perfectly along your slit. You close your eyes even tighter than before, letting a few tears escape.

"Ynnmunnho...!" you try to spell out his name with the scream but fail miserably because of the panties bunched up in your mouth.

"I know, I fucking know, doll..." he whispers, licking and lapping up your juices mixed with his spit. "I'm going to take my time devouring you."

Soon, he's going all in. Pressing the tip of his tongue in your slit, sucking on your clit and tensing all the nerves, he's partially fucking you with his tongue. If only you were able to touch him and scream his name out, it'd be perfect. One of his hands disappears from holding you apart and reappears with its warmth on your folds. His mouth is sucking and licking your cunt, while his finger protrudes at your hole. Letting another wad of spit roll down your slit, his fingers collect it by the tips before pushing inside; his fingers had always been sleek and long, quite girthy too. At first, the stretch from his fingers stings a bit but then it subsides to sheer pleasure. It bubbles in your stomach, forcing you to arch your back and fist your hands tight enough for your knuckles to go white.

"Fuck, you're tight, doll." He remarks, chuckling to himself, "bet none of your exes did a better job at fucking you loose."

His fingers plunge further inside, while his mouth is back on your clit, suckling and slurping up the spit and your arousal. Pulling back only a centimetre, he mumbles against your skin, "such a sweet thing—tastes so sweet and perfect."

You whimper at his words, giving you sensory whiplash before you breathe in hard through your nose. There was no way you could control yourself now, you couldn't even resist your gut burning with a familiar knot tying itself in your stomach. His fingers kept a steady a pace inside, only to switch it up next second; they're thrusting in deep, squealing your walls and curling inside to brush against your g-spot. The sudden caress of his fingers against your sensitive spot, makes you moan and see stars behind your closed eyes.

Grumbling incoherently, you buck your hips into his face and his fingers slip deeper, while his tongue presses further into your clit. The wetness, the roughness and warmth of his tongue were driving you crazy to begin with, and then his fingers start moving in a scissoring manner to stretch you out. This was unbearable, agonising every muscle in your body and more importantly, it was torturing your every being to not scream his name out till you're practically unconscious with a sore throat.

You did not know Yunho was this freaky in the sheets; never once did it cross your mind in the years of your friendship, that he'd be assertive and rough, delighting himself in manhandling. The thoughts in your head are cut short when he lets another clump of his spit roll down your slit, his tongue rubbing in circles and sideways to ruin you completely. It was working. His ways were working. The only downside to this, was your inability to touch him. You would've loved to scratch your nails on his back, create those red marks all over; you would've stroked his ego by chanting his name in your daze.

With that, a very dire notion pops in your mind and your eyes light up before fluttering open; you prod the gag of your panties out of your mouth with your tongue, and let it fall off onto the mattress besides you. Taking a deep breath in to sate your lungs from suffocation, you whimper ever so lightly, not loud enough to catch his attention.

Yunho is engrossed in sucking at your clit, but he's not a fool to not know what was happening above him. He smirks softly, pulling himself back, while managing the rhythm of his fingers sawing through you. Having your head thrown back, and your eyes closed, you don't notice him straightening up only a bit to watch you with amusement.

"You're such a brat, Liyah," he mutters under his breath, "guess I'll save your punishment for the next time. Now, let's get over this."

He brings his fingers out, letting you cherish the emptiness before straightening his posture completely and questions you, "Do you have a safe word?"

You shake your head, heart warming up to the concern in his voice and spell out, "ugh, no...I don't."

Yunho heaves out a sigh before legging his lips fleet with a smile, "I work on the colour system, much like traffic signals; so, red is stop, green is okay, and yellow is pause. Understood?"

You nod your head and then pout, struggling in the restraints; yeah, your hands are numb and on the verge of going limp. "Can you take this off?"

"Not a chance, doll." He smirks, "you can handle it."

Subtly glancing at his pants, he's quick in unbuttoning, unzipping and tugging them off of his legs. All your clothes were either piled or strewn on the floor, and his pants were a new addition. Yunho shifts on his knees to find a comfortable spot, while you salivate over the outline of his cock being so prominent through his abstract painted briefs. They're a mix of red, blue and black and you really didn't think you'd fixate yourself on the pattern of his briefs, but it seemed like they had some minute detail printed on it.

"Stop staring," he leans over and flicks your forehead, his own cheeks turning red along yours.

You whine, as the skin of your forehead starts stinging a bit. "You're just...really hot. It's not my fault—it's not my fault you grew up to be so hot."

"Flattery is devil's work." He rolls his eyes, but still manages to capture your lips in a short lived yet wild kiss. "Hmm, seriously, if you feel uncomfortable at any moment of this, please tell me."

Composing himself, he straightens up and hooks his fingers under the elastic band of his briefs; he snaps it first, and then hauls them off of his legs. Again, they're thrown somewhere on the floor. He's bare in front of you, his cock springing up and touching his lower belly. You were right, the rumours you thought were made up in school, are true. He was huge and thick; the veins on his shaft were bulging out, the tip was red and a little bit of precum had coated the slit.

"I told you to stop staring."

He grunts and that's all you know before being flipped over on your stomach by his arms around your waist. You're pressed up against the mattress, your face buried in the sheets, while one of his hands slithers up your back to wrap itself around your neck. Applying little to no pressure, he pushes your head further into the mattress and groans out softly.

"Fuck," your words are muffled by the mattress.

He doesn't waste any time in propping you up on your knees, letting your lower half raise in the air; your ass was juttinout, while your back arched perfectly on the mattress. Keeping his hand on your neck, he uses his other to slap your ass. It was done with a playful intention, but it was enough to leave a faint impression of his hand on your skin. He repeats for two more times before admiring the red streaks of his hand on your skin, he takes his pride in it before flushing his hips against the back of your thighs and aligning his cock with your hole.

You could hear the shuffling, you could sense his movements regardless of your vision being limited to the white of the sheets; you wanted to turn your head and glance back at him, but his grasp on your neck was making it hard to move. And it seemed like he wasn't going to let you any sooner either.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," he chants breathlessly, closing his eyes shut and throwing his head back as he enters you; only his tip is prodding into your hole. "Liyah, please relax for me. You're too fucking—you're too fucking tight."

"Nghhhhh...!" you whimper, your spine shuddering when he tries to push himself in you from the back.

This position was your favourite, to say the least you liked the way it allowed one to hit every right spot in you. Yunho may have only gotten his tip inside, but you know the stretch from it was still ugly and unbearing. Only for the time being, however. Once you take a deep breath in and relax your muscles, it eases out your nerves and allows him to slip further in. Not long after, he's bottomed out; his thighs flush against yours, and his cock completely buried in you. He waits a beat for you to adjust to his size. Yunho is self aware, he knows how excruciating it'd be for a woman to take in his cock without any prep or care.

"Yeah, that's my good girl—just breathe—let me know when I can—when I can move," he stutters in his daze, his eyes opening to the heavenly feeling of your walls around his cock. He indulges himself in it, liking the warmth of your cunt and how tight you were.

You press your hips back into his, signalling him the known and he takes the hint before pulling him out; he doesn't pull out all the way, instead he lets the tip of his cock stay in you, promoting at your cervix before he gradually pushes himself in. His concise and slow thrusts give you the ability to adjust around him, getting used to his size in a minute or two.

"Don't forget to use the safe words, okay..." he mumbles under his breath.

As his words reverberate, he picks up his pace and thrusts faster into you; he pulls back and pushes in, lowering his thighs into yours and sticking to a healthy rhythm. His hand comes to support you by resting on your thigh from your lower back, while his other is already pressing your head into the mattress. You were drawling on your breath, suffocating and gasping for air; regardless, you weren't bothered by it, you were too immersed in the sting of your walls stretching around his cock and then relaxing every time he pulled out a little. It was driving you insane.

"Yunho, fuck...faster," you try to voice out, but the words are absorbed into the mattress.

Even if your words were inaudible to him, Yunho picks up the tempo of his hips, his fingers digging in your thigh as he holds onto it for leverage. This makes him go feral, having an untamed desire to ruin and fuck you raw. He brings his hand to the small of your back and lets it rest there, while his thrusts falter but show no signs of stopping.

"You're really—fuck—you're really fucking tight, doll." He breathes out, loosening his grip on your neck before sliding his hand up front.

Grabbing your throat now, he pulls up; your restrained hands limit your movement, and he makes the up the remaining distance by leaning his chest against your chest. Skipping a beat, he increases the speed of his thrusts, plunging his cock deep in you every time he drew out and rammed in hard. A voiceless chuckle sounds from beside you, right near your ear; his head rested delicately on the back of your shoulder, just above your shoulder blade.

Sweat beads trickle on your skin, followed by his whispery chants of your name. You're too turned on by his grunts and moans being close to your ears, salvaging the heated knot in your stomach again.

"Yunho, I'm close..." you mumble, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Just a little bit, hold it out..." he grumbles, delaying his thrusts to drag out your orgasm.

You groan at the sluggish pace, instinctively pushing yourself back into his cock. Though, when he gently yet threateningly, slaps the curve of your back, you yelp and steady yourself.

"Don't even think about it," he warns, rolling his hips into yours and picking up the pace.

"But Yunho—fuck," your whine is cut short to a moan; bringing his hand to the front, from your back, he offers your filled pussy a light slap.

His hand drops from your throat too and instead slides down to tug on your nipples and grope your tits; his fingers scuttle in your flesh, nails leaving little crescent marks behind and his lips tracing kisses along your neck. He straighten his back and wraps both of his hand around your waist, giving him the better weight to sink his cock into you. And he was delivering really harsh thrusts to your back.

"Hmm, Yunho— I can't—I can't hold it in much—much longer." you say in between your moans, and whimpers, knowing how intense the knot in your stomach had tied itself into.

Yunho hums along, "fuck it."

He flips you on your back, with much ease than before and he slows himself down to short and concise thrusts. You're laying on your back, the shackled shirt of his twisting in the process which did not bring any strain to your arms; though you could say that your arms were tired and numb from staying in one position for so long. Yunho likes the sight of you sprawled under him, helpless and desperate; he wraps your legs around his waist and continues to ram into you.

"You're so pretty—so fucking pretty squirming under me," he growls, leaning over you.

He supports his body weight by plopping his hands on either side of your face and diminishes the distance between your faces to kiss you. His lips bring the much-needed placidity to your heart while his cock is stretching you raw, thrusting into your cunt at an animalistic pace and fluttering your walls. The kiss turns hungry and he's soon devouring your face; you arch your back and let your hips roll into his.

This current position causes you to clench around him; while your own orgasm was a few thrusts away, you were also trying to milk his out. Yunho's lips trail down your jaw and then your neck, tongue going over the hickeys he had left before. The knot which had gone limp a few moments ago, comes back with much more force and intense churning of your gut. You push your chest into his, and he starts to increase his pace furthermore. He had gone feral at this point, bucking his hips into with no care whatsoever.

You're both chasing each other's highs. It takes one longing thrust from him, and you're coming undone, releasing your juices all over his cock as he keeps going at it. Yunho pulls himself back, supporting himself on his arms and offers you smug smile.

"Making a mess on my cock, huh?" he groans, your tense walls pushing him to his edge. "Fuck, I'm close too—gonna fill you up..."

It doesn't take long for him to cum either; right after you, after a few more whiling minutes of thrusting and ramming his cock into you, he too comes undone. The warmth of his cum fills you up, and it keeps trickling down your cunt as he slowly pulls out. A few drops fall on your folds and few dribble down on the mattress underneath you. You're breathless, and voiceless, your chest heaving in the air and dropping erratically to compose yourself.

Yunho falls next to you on the twin sized bed, somehow managing to fit himself in the very little space. He turns to face you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling both of your bodies closer. Now, the two of you actually fit on the bed, snuggling close to each other, reeking of sex and sweat. Your hair stuck to your forehead from the sweat, and Yunho strokes a few strands away.

"I'm...I don't know what to say." he begins, hopefully looking into your eyes.

You rest your head on his chest and wrap your arms around his torso; both are sweaty and sticky, but it's the least of your concerns now.

"Can we talk about it tomorrow?"

"Well, we really need to address this."

Yunho rubs your back up and down, letting his fingertips caress your skin gently and relax you.

"There's nothing to address, Yunho," you bite back on your tone and use a more subtle one, "this isn't a mistake. Obviously. I like you, a lot. And I'm looking for a prospect relationship here."

"I'm alright with that, but..." he trails off, sighing softly and you prop yourself on your elbows to stare at him, finding his lips trembling, "we're both pursuing our degrees in different cities. So, till we graduate we'll be in a long-distance relationship."

"And what do you think that long distance relationships don't work?" you retort, and eventually, slump yourself back on his chest. While your hands rest on his chest, your fingers draw circles and certain patterns; your sentiments become clearer and you mumble, "I was thinking of moving cities, you know."

"Liyah," he whispers, "you don't have to."

His gradual touches on your arm as you lay on his chest, are soft and warm and so his tone as he speaks up.

"We should move in together after graduation. Let's make this long-distance work; and besides..." he drags his words to a mumble again, only to lean down and kiss your forehead.

"We've been chasing stars for long; may they be in dark or the light. They made me realise I need you in my life."

[evereverest2]

Roses — Terzomega

~part five of the Little Monster Series~

2.4k words ~ (light) smut

Days after his last encounter with Terzo, Omega finds himself in the ministry garden.

[parts]: one | previous | next

[author note:] early upload because the last part reached my goal of 50 likes! thank u everyone. for an early upload of part 6, get this one to 100 likes (i made it harder). otherwise, see you next wednesday ;)

—

“You need to get laid.”

The snickering jab came from Earth, who sizzled his cymbal for effect. Air laughed.

Omega’s tail flicked angrily. Having been warming up, he continued to practice with an edge of frustration, not giving Earth a reaction. His fingers climbed the guitar’s neck, quick as lightning, turning into an angry, shrill chromatic scale that left the guitar screaming its highest note through the crackling amp.

“He’s been so uptight,” River sighed, plucking a dark note from his bass.

“Ignoring us,” Air added with a random piano riff. “Too busy to say hi.”

“I’m right here,” Omega snapped. The four ghouls looked up from their instruments. The sound-proof practice room filled with dead air.

It was Alpha who finally spoke up. “You gotta admit it’s been a while, Megs.”

“Since what?”

“Since you got laid,” Earth interjected, hitting his bass drum a few times to punctuate his statement. 

River and Air burst into childish giggles. Omega’s brow furrowed with annoyance. Alpha laughed, a carefree sound, before shaking his head. “Nah. I mean, maybe, but nah. It’s you, man. When’s the last time we all hung out?”

“Last week,” Omega replied tersely.

“That was practice,” River said in his sullen voice. “You hardly spoke at all.”

“Yeah, like, really hung out. We used to do it all the time, right?” Alpha looked around at the other ghouls. There was a chorus of agreement.

“Why are we even practicing?” Omega huffed, suddenly frustrated. “There’s no new music and no tour date scheduled yet.”

More silence. Finally, Alpha said, “I mean, besides the obvious to keep ourselves fresh, it’s the only time we ever see you.”

“I’m busy.”

“We know, Megs. It’s not fair they make you do all that shit.”

“That’s why you gotta do your own shit, right?” Earth was relentless, laughing boisterously.

Air tilted his head, smiling suggestively. “If you need your dick sucked, you know I’m happy to do it.”

“We all want to suck your dick, Omega,” River sighed.

Omega, fed up, threw his guitar on the ground. The amp made a painful shriek that made everyone except Omega flinch.

“Megs–” Alpha tried.

Omega snarled at him, snapping his teeth. They locked eyes for a moment. Fiery red glaring into lightning purple. He growled, “We’re done here.”

He stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Every Sibling unlucky enough to see his terrifying rampage turned the other way, disappearing inside doorways, avoiding his path. There was no destination to his rageful stalking, his pacing of the Ministry. He just wanted to clear his head, to get away from the ghouls, to take one single moment of the day to himself, to think. 

At an intersection between halls, he felt a breeze gently blowing down an empty corridor, one that led to a glass door cracked open by a rock. The garden. The air was cool against his heated disposition. Refreshing. Inviting.

Omega detoured down the hall, slipping outside and carefully ensuring the door remained open. It automatically locked, and the only way to get back inside was to walk around the expansive compound through the front door.

The sky was cloudy blue, overcast but not quite raining. It was warm enough to be comfortable with a coat, though the breeze was cold and light, giving Omega goosebumps. He took deep breaths, smelling the air, calming himself. 

The plants around him were dying in the early fall, some still green, others withering away. The one plant that stood against the seasons was a dark red rose bush, though little remained of the blooms. He noticed, on the pathway, a handful of rose petals, which were bigger than any of the current flowers growing on the bush. Confused, he looked around, seeing another one further down the path. 

He walked forward, stepping around a hedge to see the very rose he had been searching for, clutched in the hands of the last man in the Ministry he wanted to see.

Cardinal Terzo was sat on an ornate concrete bench, looking down and spinning the thorny rose between his fingers. The bench was in a small clearing that looked over a garden of dead flowers, the back surrounded by hedges to create an apse in the walkway. Omega knew it was Primo’s favorite spot, and it surprised him that the old man was not there instead of Terzo. Of course, it was too cold to tend to the fauna in early autumn.

Terzo looked up at the intrusion. He looked sad. Not miserable, not pitiful, but simply sad. Then, he smiled at Omega. His frustration disappeared in an instant, leaving room to sense Terzo’s state of mind. Indeed, he was sad, mourning, his mind mulling over something in particular. But it was not all-consuming. There was a spark of happiness, and it came from seeing Omega.

“Hello, Omega ghoul. Care to join me?”

Omega hesitated. Suddenly, he felt as if he should not be there, and looked away. Terzo said, “Do not be frightened, ghoul. I do not bite.”

Omega relented, shuffling over to the bench and sitting on the edge. He stared at the collection of browning and dead flowers, wondering why Terzo was so welcoming of his presence. Since their tepid encounter days ago, they had yet to even see one another, let alone resolve the tension between them. 

“I was surprised to see this rose today,” Terzo said, breaking the silence. “The bush looks dead. Look how big and red it is.”

He held up the rose. Omega regarded it. 

“It’s dead now,” he pointed out.

“It was soon to die anyway.” Terzo held it to his nose, smelling it deeply. “Roses were mi mamma’s favorite. That is not a very uncommon favorite, is it?”

Omega shook his head.

“Many people love this flower. Yet I can only think of mamma when I see it. No one else will think of that, si? It is mi mamma’s flower. To you, you may look at this flower and think nothing of it. To me, mamma is what makes roses special.”

Omega’s tail flicked back and forth on the bench contentedly. He nodded along to Terzo’s musings. Surprisingly, this gentle atmosphere was soothing him from his outburst at the ghouls, and finally, he could calm down. 

“Is that why you’re out here?”

Terzo nodded. “Two years ago yesterday, I buried mi mamma with roses. I was hoping there would be one left in the garden.”

Omega thought to say something. To give his condolences, to ask how she died, to ask how he was doing, any number of things. Instead, he choked. And before he could think of anything of comfort, Terzo spoke again.

“What brings you to this garden, Omega ghoul?”

Relieved for the topic change, Omega sighed, shaking his head. “Nothing important. I’m taking a break.”

“From?”

“From… everything,” he chuckled slightly. “I’m exhausted.”

“Ah. It is hard, si? They say, eh, you work for Satan, then they say, eh, you must do all these things. It is like a business, not a church. Why, we are no better than the Catholics.”

Omega looked at Terzo, surprised. Though Omega may not have fully acknowledged them before, Terzo had just voiced the very feelings that he had been plagued by for far too long.

“Yeah,” he sighed, then laughed despite himself. “That’s it. I’m the only quintessence ghoul, and they give me too many responsibilities. Trivial, meaningless things anyone could handle, all because of my element.”

“You delegate then, si?” Terzo began pointing at invisible people. “You do this, and you do this. Lower your stress.”

“I don’t have the authority to do that.” Omega sighed.

“They expect too much out of you. They always do.”

Omega looked at Terzo, slowly plucking the petals from the rose. They naturally fell silent, both watching as dark petals drifted to the ground until the rose stem was barren.

“Now I have really killed it,” Terzo said, dropping the stem. He pushed his hair back, sitting up. “I can never help myself from ruining nice things.”

“It’s not always your fault.” Omega leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That rose was dead anyway.”

“Si. But how much longer could it have lived?”

“Maybe it would have died today.”

“Or maybe it would have lived through winter,” Terzo chuckled. “But it does not matter. You cannot bring back a dead rose.”

Omega stared at Terzo. After a moment, Terzo noticed, catching his eye. Omega swallowed thickly, looking down at the remnants of the flower, breaking their eye contact.

“Maybe we can.”

“Hm?”

Omega rubbed his hands together a few times, his fingers suddenly feeling cold with the breeze. He chastised himself for feeling so nervous. He looked at Terzo again.

The words escaped his mind like air from a deflating balloon. All that was left was his eyes, rimmed by black, always seeing through him, piercing him like arrows. And his lips. One plump pink, one black. An unsettling appearance, but one that Omega had grown to long for. 

Terzo reached up to take off Omega’s mask. He let him.

There was no telling who leaned in first, who initiated the kiss that followed. Only that there was one. One that both had been craving for some time. And it was unlike any they had shared before; indeed, for they had rarely kissed at all. When they did, it was rough, nasty, followed by choking or spitting or both. Never for the sake of being kissed but for the heat of dark passion. But on this concrete bench in the Ministry garden, Omega felt the gentle nature of this kiss, and it scared him. This was not how they were. This was not hatred. This was not lust.

Omega pulled away first. 

Terzo said, “Omega—”

“I want to revisit our agreement,” Omega interrupted, clearing his throat, too terrified of what Terzo would say to let him finish.

Terzo paused. “You want to fuck me again, mostriciatto?” 

Omega gripped the edge of the bench, annoyed at how he always said things like that just to make him mad. “Yes,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Why did we stop before?”

“It…” Caught off guard, Omega failed to answer right away, his mouth agape like a fool, hesitating. “Your drinking.”

“Eh, you catch me after a party, and you think I drink too much? I do not drink today, do I?”

“You always did when we had sex.”

Now, it was Terzo’s turn to be caught off guard. He shook his head, shrugging. “Wine makes me horny.”

“If we continue doing this, I don’t want you to drink all the time. It increases the risk of getting caught,” he added quickly.

“Fine.” He held up his hands. “I will be responsible. I won’t quit cold poultry, but I will do my best. Happy?”

Being happy was a complicated feat. Omega was surprised at how happy he was at that moment, yet what lingered in the back of his mind was far from the excitement he felt now. It made him want to quell the happiness, chalk it up to being horny, and forget the ways Terzo’s smile made him feel.

Omega nodded slowly. Terzo reached up to touch his face.

“Shall we reinstate the agreement now or later?”

Omega pointedly avoided turning his head to Terzo’s touch, glaring at a dead leaf across the garden instead. “I’m busy until evening.”

Terzo tutted. He got up to stand in front of him, casually running his arms along his shoulders. He leaned over to kiss his jaw. He murmured lowly, “As I recall, you still have one more hour of practice.”

Omega wondered when Terzo found out his schedule, or when he became such a convincing man.

He tilted his head to meet Terzo’s, reuniting once more in a salacious lip lock. His arms slipped around his waist, pressing their bodies close, Terzo now standing between his legs. His hands ran along Omega’s back, lightly scratching, slipping up to tangle his fingers in Omega’s hair. Omega gripped his ass with his big hands, slipping one down his pants just to feel the flesh. Terzo released a gentle groan.

Omega suddenly lifted Terzo, then carefully set him on the concrete bench, lying down. He knelt over him, one leg on the ground to balance, kissing fiercely. Terzo held on to him, still playing with his hair and face with his fingers, splitting his legs apart greedily. Omega slid his hand down his chest, stomach, resting comfortably on the curve of his bulge. He thumbed the length of it, tight in his pants, making him moan lightly.

Then Omega heard something, which made him stop dead in his tracks. The crunch of a dead leaf. He raised his head, his eyes darting around them.

“Mostriciatto—”

Omega shushed him. He walked away from the bench, checking the path that led to the door. Not a soul in sight. The door was still ajar. Omega returned to Terzo.

“I thought I heard someone,” he said, tense.

“There is nobody around, ghoul; you worry too much.”

Omega looked at Terzo, who was disheveled and clearly begging for more. As much as he wanted to relent, to give in to his feral desire to rip into him in the garden, he was too concerned with getting caught, and the moment had passed.

“It’s too risky out here.” Omega pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why we didn’t think about this.”

“We are horny,” Terzo said helpfully.

Omega sighed. “I should get back to work.”

“You have always been a cockblock, ghoul,” Terzo mumbled bitterly, standing to readjust his pants and fix his hair.

Omega glowered at him. “You think I’m not frustrated?”

“I hope you are,” Terzo grinned. “Then you will treat me not-so-nice later tonight.”

Omega crossed his arms. “I’ll be at your quarters when I’m finished.”

“Oh, Omega, do not finish before you see me. It will not be as fun,” Terzo winked at him. He slapped Omega’s ass on his way out, causing him to jump in surprise. Omega’s eyebrows furrowed, embarrassed, angry that he was embarrassed, and glared at Terzo as he walked up the path and disappeared inside the Ministry.

[parts]: one | previous | next

[stayteezdreams]

Dare

Plot: Yours and Sangyeon's relationship is changed forever after a game of Truth or Dare

Pairing: Lee Sangyeon x Gn!Reader

A/n: This started as a drabble for a Milestone Ship requested by an anon, using the prompts 'Truth or Dare' 'Dare' 'I Dare you to kiss me.' Then it became a bit longer than a drabble so I made it it's own post. A/n #2: This is also the fic I accidentally deleted before saving, so this is the second version unfortunately

Words: 1.2k

You continued to stare up at the cloudy night sky from the balcony of your apartment as you hummed under your breath. You thought over what to ask Sangyeon for his 'Truth' question. You had played this game so many times with your childhood friend, it was getting harder to think of things you didn't already know the answer too.

The two of you were lying on your backs on blankets and pillows. Discarded food and drinks littered around you, left by the other's about an hour prior. You and Sangyeon always ended up being the last two to part. Something you seemed to never question, but should have.

Turning your head, you met his eyes as he watched you patiently from beside you. Your heart flipped, but you ignored it.

"Whose you're favorite?"

Sangyeon let out a soft laugh, knowing you were asking him to choose from his members. He groaned and shook his head, "I would expect that from one of them, not you!"

"Come on! I wont tell." You grinned.

He chuckled, "I don't believe you."

You turned onto your side and sat up on your elbow, resting your head on your hand. He glanced over at you and shook his head with a smile as he turned and copied your position, staring at you with a teasing glare.

After a moment he finally answered, "You."

"Me?"

He nodded and you stuck out your tongue before sighing, "Cop-out" and lying back down.

He smiled softly as he watched you, knowing you wouldn't believe him, even if it was true. His eyes grazed over your features as his heart beat in a familiar flutter.

You glanced over at him. "You're turn."

He let out a soft breath. "Truth or Dare."

"My turn for Truth."

He thought for a second as he thought over the question he had wanted to ask you a few times now.

"Do you have a crush on someone?"

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked over at him. He hid his anxiety with a smirk and you groaned. The boys had been trying to get this information from you for a while, though a select few did know, but Sangyeon was left in the dark, for reasons he couldn't know.

You cleared your throat. "Maybe." He tilted his head with a pointed look and you sighed, "Fine. Yes."

He sat up a bit more, ready to interrogate and you rose your hand. "That was a yes or no question, now it's my turn."

He rolled his eyes softly as he tried to ignore the painful tightness in his chest.

"Truth or dare."

"Truth."

Thinking you could turn the tables on him you sat up, now facing him as you both sat on the floor of your balcony.

"Do you have a crush on someone?"

"Yes."

His quick, unrestrained answer made your heart flip, before your stomach tightened. 'Oh.' You shouldn't have asked.

He smiled softly as he leaned a bit closer. "Truth or Dare."

"T-" you hesitated. If you said truth, he would ask you who it was. "Dare."

He smiled, knowing that was what you were going to choose. "I dare you to tell me who."

You opened your mouth in surprise as he smiled, though his heart was pounding painfully. Why did he want to know so bad? Simply for the small chance it might be him? But what if it wasn't? Was tonight the night his heart was going to be broken?

You started stuttering out, "I- but-" you groaned "That's not fair." You pouted and he chuckled.

"Fine, I dare you to give me a hint."

You sighed, a hint was better than the whole truth. You fiddled with your hands, as you tried to figure out how to answer without giving yourself away. Tonight was not the night you wanted to lose your friend because of unrequited love.

"You know him."

Sangyeon swallowed harshly, his first thought being that it was one of the members. Something he had been afraid of.

He nodded, "You're turn."

You noticed the change in his tone and you studied him for a moment. "Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

"Do I know the person you have a crush on?"

He met your eyes and the intensity in them made your heart flutter as he nodded. "Yes. Truth or Dare."

His tone told you he had a response ready no matter what you chose. You swallowed nervously as you bit the inside of your lip. "Why do you want to know so bad?"

He smiled softly, "Its not your turn. Truth or Dare."

"Truth."

"Is it someone in the band?"

You didn't want him to mistake your crush to be one of the others, but the question only had one answer.

You nodded softly, "Yes."

You noticed the way he swallowed, and the way his eyes darted down to the ground before he adjusted himself. "You're turn."

Why did he seem upset? Could it be...

"Truth or Dare."

"Truth."

It was like he wanted you to find out. Like he needed you to know.

"Are you upset it's one of the members?"

He met your eyes, his response not being anything you had expected. "I'll only be upset if it's not me."

Your breath caught in your throat as he stared intensely into your eyes.

Something in how you froze and the way you were looking at him, told him what he wanted to know.

"Truth or Dare." His voice was almost a whisper.

Your voice was just as quiet, "Truth."

"Is it me?"

No words were needed as you nodded, your heart beating so heavily you could feel it in your head.

It was like you were on autopilot. "Truth or Dare."

"Truth."

"Am I the one you like?"

Sangyeon nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips as he adjusted himself, moving closer to you. Reaching over, he wrapped his hands around your wrists and pulled you until you slid closer, your knees meeting his.

His eyes never left yours. "Truth or Dare."

Your voice was barely audible. "Dare."

He smiled softly as he leaned closer to you, his eyes scanning your face before pausing on your lips. He met your eyes again as he spoke. "I dare you to kiss me."

You weren't sure if you were breathing or not as your mind went blank. You kept your eyes locked with his before you slowly looked at his lips. You could see the soft smile playing at his lips.

Meeting his eyes again, you slowly leaned forward, wanting to meet his challenge.

Sangyeon watched you as you drifted closer. He resisted the urge to catch your lips in a desperate kiss as you moved agonizingly slow. His grip tightened ever so slightly around your wrists as your lips began to brush against his.

Giving in, he leaned into the kiss just as you did. Not wasting any time, Sangyeon pulled you closer until you were in his lap as he deepened the kiss, one of his hands holding the back of your head.

You melted into his arms as the kiss became messier, the longing both of you had been secretly feeling coming to the surface.

Pulling away a few moments later, you breathlessly stared into each other's eyes as smiles spread across your faces. Sangyeon gently cupped your face before pecking your lips.

You smiled brightly and he couldn't resist pulling you into another kiss. Something he would find to become a common occurrence in your budding relationship.

xx End xx

Kind of an abrupt ending, but I accidentally deleted this fic before having to re-do it so I couldn't get it out how I wanted the second time.

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[kumememe]

little help (oliver quick x m!reader)

plot: places after the events of saltburn, where oliver had already inherited the estate. he sees someone who caught his eye, someone who reminds him of who he was when he was younger.

a slow sunday afternoon was bestowed upon oliver's day. the usual rustle and bustle of people as they went about their day on the streets, the car honks when there was a mild amount of traffic, the cloudy season of london—everything appeared to be in order. well, except for one thing…

him.

oliver was seated in a small café, typing on his laptop as he worked on some reports for his job as a journalist. with a sip of his cold brew in hand, he took a deep breath and came to a stop. he looked at the word file he had open, the blinking of a single text line jarring. he had hit a block, not knowing what to do next. he took this moment as a sign to rest, stretching his arms outward as he let out a yawn. the feeling of his bones cracking brought him some relief. he looked around the café—no one was there except for the new barista.

ah yes, the barista. from what oliver had gathered, he was a college student, eighteen years of age, studying at oxford just like oliver had. tall, active, and most importantly—diligent and honest. and attractive, but that was beside the point.

oliver had grown intrigued by the younger man who served him coffee every day. he noticed how sweet and alluring the boy seemed, an abundance of innocence and charm surrounding his aura. the folds in his eyes when he gave that toothy grin as he greeted oliver with his coffee, wishing him a good day—it made oliver's stomach swirl with a familiar feeling he hadn’t felt in years. it seemed strange having a feeling remind him of his past, but he couldn’t help it. the college student working diligently behind the coffee bar… he reminded him of him.

young, naive, filled with curiosity and infatuation for the world yet driven—it was something oliver knew all too well.

oliver noticed that the barista was just relaxing, taking his fifteen-minute break earlier than usual. he cleared his throat to get his attention, raising his hand for the young man to see. luckily, the barista saw him and made his way over with a beaming smile. the two of them had shared a fair number of conversations, mostly casual greetings and small talk about how their days had been. they were familiar with each other, so the barista had no problem walking over to him. the barista sat down across from oliver, leaning back against the chair. "hello, mr. quick," he greeted. "hope the coffee's good. we tried new roasted beans today to see if there was a difference."

oliver let out a small bemused sigh, nodding. "it's good, y/n. i wasn't going to mention the sweeter taste until you brought it up."

oliver placed his laptop to the side of the table, resting his elbows on the wooden surface as he propped up his head. "so, how have you been? i assume you're still studying?"

y/n nodded. "yeah. uni has been a bit heavy lately. i can barely balance work and the interims i have." he let out a sigh through his nose. "but i have to do what i have to, to survive."

"what about you? how's work?" y/n asked out of curiosity.

it was oliver's turn to grunt at the mention of his job. "same old, same old. but it's getting rather… monotonous." he leaned back in his chair, mimicking y/n's stance. "journalism is about facts and objectivity, but with the whole internet spewing out rumors left and right, it's getting tiring to follow up on a story."

y/n nodded. "i get it, though i don't do journalism. reading any news article nowadays feels like a double-edged sword," he muttered. "i wouldn't blame you if you wanted to take a break. i'd certainly do so if i could afford it."

oliver cocked his head to the side. "may i ask why you can't?"

y/n licked his dry lips, crossing his arms as he blew out some air. he was hesitant to share, but after knowing oliver for a few months, he decided he could open up. he cleared his throat. "well, for starters, i'm working two jobs just to pay the monthly rent for my apartment," he mentioned, causing oliver's eyes to soften. oliver felt a pang of sympathy for the young man as he listened.

"academic workload is catching up to me, and i'm falling behind just a tad," y/n explained, running a hand through his hair. "there's just so much going on, i can't even think of what to do first."

oliver raised a brow. "isn't term break nearing?" he asked.

y/n shook his head. "yeah, but… i'll need to catch up on my rent. i'll probably work most of the week."

oliver hummed, the gears in his mind turning. for some odd reason, he felt bad for the guy. working two jobs just to make ends meet while also battling the workload and school duties at a prestigious university. he didn’t know his family situation, but it must be difficult if his parents weren’t at least helping to assist him. maybe a certain someone’s savior complex had rubbed off on him, or perhaps since inheriting wealth, he had become more generous. in a twisted sense, maybe it was sympathy.

oliver couldn’t just leave him to suffer, much to his dismay. he wanted to help. he was hooked, intrigued by this young man. he knew he wanted y/n to need him. to be dependent on him for his needs. his eyes darkened slightly as he took a shallow breath, speaking after making up his mind.

"tell you what," oliver began. "i'll help you with your rent."

y/n's eyes widened at the sudden offer, and he let out a laugh of disbelief. his laughter faltered when he noticed how serious oliver seemed. "… are you serious?" he asked.

oliver gave him a small, crooked smile. "of course. why wouldn't i be? it's just to help you get some of the weight off your shoulders," he said in a convincing tone. he noticed the way y/n stared at him, knowing he was probably weighing his options as he looked down at his lap.

"i can't possibly accept that kind of offer, mr. quick. i…" y/n's sentence trailed off, his mouth slightly ajar as oliver waved a hand dismissively.

"i'm not asking if you want to accept it," oliver said, crossing his legs. "i'm telling you that i'm helping you. think of it as a treat for working so hard."

y/n was flabbergasted, not knowing how to respond. for a moment, his eyes squinted and his brows furrowed. "…is there a catch?"

oliver snickered slightly, feigning nonchalance. "no, no catch."

y/n whined slightly. "but i need to pay you back somehow, mr. quick."

"call me oliver."

y/n cleared his throat. "oliver, i…" he tried to protest, but it seemed oliver had made up his mind. with a sigh of defeat, he relented. "alright… thank you so much, oliver. it will really help. a lot." he added, "please, if you need anything from me, i'll do my best to help."

bingo.

oliver smirked internally. "i'll keep that in mind."

a few days later…

y/n returned from work, exhausted, as he collapsed face-first on his dorm room bed. today was the day the rent was due, and he groaned as he got a ping on his phone. unlocking it, he checked the message, tapping the icon to open his inbox. he rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the tiredness. squinting slightly to read the message, his eyes widened. he couldn't believe what he read.

"greetings, mr. l/n, here is confirmation that your past and current rent have been settled. as for the remaining rent for this school term, it has been paid in advance. the individual who covered your dues has included a message for you, which is enclosed below. good luck with your examinations.

'see you soon, y/n. - o.q.'"

______________________________________________________________ author's note: just a little drabble here since someone asked for some oliver quick love. might make sequel to this or a part two, depending on how many people like it. it's quite rushed and i just wrote it in between classes so... yeah. hope you enjoyed!

[homunculus-argument]

Also hey I got my first Spooky Camping Experience the other night:

It's still so warm out there at night and it wasn't going to rain, so we didn't put up the whole tent - we just had the mosquito net over our bedding and sleeping bags. That way we could still see the whole surrounding forest quite clearly, with wild blueberry and other pine barren undershrub growing all around us, and pine branches reaching above us over the sky. It's still light enough at night in Finland at this time of the year that even if it hadn't been cloudy, we would have seen no stars.

Our campsite was beside a clearing on a rocky hill, covered mostly by moss, lichen and whatever trees find the cracks in the bedrock to be a fit place to grow, and the path there was exposed bedrock itself, formed to where the moss, lichen and undershrub had been worn down by the feet of more animals than people. We could see the clearing from the tent with ease. Neither of us were used to sleeping in the wild - my partner had not done so for a long time, and I had never done so at all - so we didn't sleep well. Around two or three AM I turned around to the clearing and saw a tiny, faint light.

The night wasn't dark, but still dim, and the view was obscured somewhat by the black mosquito net, but the light was still clearly there. Smaller than the flame of a candle, colourless but not white, hovering perfectly still exactly in place, in a position above the bedrock footpath. Whatever the source was, it made no sound. I sat up in the tent, moved around somewhat to better assess where it was, and it did, indeed, stay perfectly still in a place above the ground. In my travels to America I had seen their yellow-green fireflies before, and though at the time I had never seen anything like them before, I knew they weren't native to Finland and whatever the source of that light was, it wasn't flying.

It was perfectly still, as if suspended in the air, hovering exactly in place above the ground. A tiny dot of light, as if a pin prick on the fabric of reality itself, puncturing the darkness.

My partner was drifting in and out of poor sleep as well, and I asked him if he could see it, too. I have never had a hallucination or psychotic symptom in my life but I had to make sure. He agreed that it was there, he saw the faint light too. So I got up to investigate, weaseled out of the tent in my underwear and clumsily put my boots on outside to go see what it was. I feared the light would disappear before I got to it, and we would never know the truth. But it didn't, it kept glowing just as clear, distinct and yet tiny, as I approached.

I had been right in my assessment that it was above ground level, at knee level above the bedrock path, but it wasn't suspended in the air as I had thought. It was sitting on a stump that I hadn't seen in the darkness. It was some kind of a bug, glowing faintly green in the darkness, just chilling there, either unaware or at least entirely indifferent to the fact that I was staring at it as closely as I could in the dim light. I couldn't make out any more detail of what it was, but I was only marginally less surprised to learn that there even are bioluminescent insects in Finland than I would have been to discover proof of the existence of the supernatural.

Making my way back to the tent, I stumbled while taking off my boots, stepping on the corner of the tent and breaking off the loop by which we had suspended the tent to a nearby tree. We slept the rest of the night - poorly - in a broken mosquito net tent, and headed back home a few hours later. I'll have to repair the tent later at some point before we can go out into the woods again.

But for a moment there, I had spent several minutes sitting in my sleeping bag on the undershrub forest floor, in the perfectly quiet and peaceful finnish wilderness, staring at a faint light the like of which I had never seen before and could not explain, wondering that perhaps there really was a chance that the fair folk of the forest truly do exist, and what surprised me the most was that I still felt perfectly safe.

[writing-till-i-am-dead]

Bengan oneshot - Confession

Ask and you shall receive! <3

Logan likes stars. Ben knows this. Ben likes music. Logan knows this.

They liked to go out stargazing together, listening to songs like Stardust by Nat King Cole, Fade Into You by Mazzy Star, Strange Time by Matt Maltese, and whatever else Ben felt like putting in the queue. Logan wasn't too picky about what kind of music they listened to. And besides, Ben had good music taste.

"Play that song we were listening to last night! Um, what was it..?" Logan tapped his fingers on the telescope, thinking. "♪And then I go and spoil it all by saying something-♪"

Ben cut him off by tapping on his shoulder and signed "Something Stupid?"

Logan nodded. "Ya! That one!"

Ben nodded and pulled out his phone. In all honesty, he didn't want Logan to sing along to it. Just imagining him saying the words 'I love you', even if not directed at him, was too much for his heart.

Ben liked Logan a lot. But he was bad at expressing this. He's been trying to make it a bit obvious. Lately he's been playing more romantic songs like Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley, Heart to Heart by Mac DeMarco, and Love Like You from Steven Universe. But Logan didn't seem to be picking up on the hints, which makes everything so much more difficult. Though, he was also kind of grateful. Logan actually knowing Ben liked him scared Ben a lot. Like... a lot, a lot.

Ben got the song playing and Logan looked through his telescope, humming along, murmuring, "♪...I know that there's a chance you won't be leaving with me...♪"

He watched Logan hum and murmur the lyrics, but before the words "I love you" could be said, he tapped on Logan's shoulder.

"Hm? What's up?"

Ben hesitated. What now? He just wanted to stop Logan before he could even mutter out those 3 lyrics. Those 3 words that would buzz through his head and have him repeat multiple fake scenarios that would never happen because how could they ever happen? How could Logan ever say "I love you" to him? Stupid, stupid brain.

Ben though before he signed, "What constellations are out?"

Logan smiled a little disappointedly. "Sadly, I can't tell. It's pretty cloudy tonight. But I can see a planet! Come check it out!"

Ben peaked through and saw a very bright object in the sky. Before he would've assumed it was just a really bright star. But due to spending so much time with Logan, he's gotten better at telling the differences apart.

"Which planet is that?"

"That's Venus! The most toxic of the planets. Which is ironic because it's named after the Roman goddess, Venus, who was pretty shallow, especially as her Greek counterpart!"

Ben thought about the name. He was really no good at Greek nor Roman mythology. He was more of a Norse mythology enjoyer.

Logan could tell by his face he was struggling to remember which goddess Venus was.

"She was the goddess of love!" Logan told him, causing Ben's shoulders to jump.

Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love....

What kind of weird sign was this? What, are the literal planets now calling him out for his crush!? That's not fair! And it kind of pissed him off a little, but he knew, deep down, that it would be stupid to get aggressive over a planet. Seriously, what kind of person would be like that. If he showed Logan he had anger issues that bad, he'd scare him off for sure. Like, ya, Logan already knows about the anger issues, but he doesn't know their full extent.

Logan nudged Ben a little, smiling at him. "The stars get red and oh, the night's so blue.."

Ben takes a moment to process what's happening, but before he knew it, Logan said the words.

"And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you..."

Ben stands there for a moment, processing this. Logan definitely hadn't directed that at him... No way.

Ya.. Logan looking at him expectantly, eyes big, blushing was all just Ben's imagination... definitely...

Logan clenches his fists and awkwardly turns away and Ben jumps, waving his arms to get his attention again before signing, "Frank Sinatra is pretty great, right?"

Logan gives him this weird look before sighing. "Ya. He is.."

They both look at the sky and Ben hesitates. He's doing something wrong. He did something wrong. He could tell by Logan's face. And Ben had a feeling what it was. But he had trouble being able to say it. How could he? Could he really be deserving to try and confess to anyone without actually saying it? Would that even count as a real confession?

He thinks for a moment before deciding "screw it" and grabbing his phone and frantically typing into Spotify the song he wants.

The song Yesterday by The Beatles began to play. Logan glanced curiously at Ben and Ben looked at him before sitting down on the grass. He gestured for Logan to join him, which he did.

Ben stared at him for a moment before finally getting the courage to do it.

He began to sign the lyrics for the song, frantically, scared to make any eye contact with Logan.

"Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away.."

He hesitates on some of the lyrics, but he feels he got the message across... hopefully.

Once the song comes to a slow end, Ben tightly closes his eyes, waiting for Logan to say something. But he didn't. So Ben looked up, greeted to the site of Logan tearing up.

"What are you trying to tell me with this...?"

Ben hesitates, wanting to reach over, to wipe away his tears and tell him he doesn't need to cry.

"I'm in love with you, Logan," he signs. "But I don't feel I could be worthy. You don't know me how I used to be. I was so much more worthy of love back then. Now I'm not."

"You stupid-!" Logan exclaimed. "I don't care who you used to be! What, you got more aggressive? You can't talk? Who cares!? I don't! But don't push me away!"

Ben sits there, stunned, and Logan realizes what he said and shyly hunches his shoulders, blushing from embarrassment. "Sorry for yelling... But you get what I'm trying to say, right..?"

Ben hesitates, fidgeting nervously before slowly nodding.

Logan sighs. "'Yesterday' you may have been someone different.. but that doesn't matter because you are who you are now. I've changed too."

Ben looks down. Logan has changed. He's more confident, he's stronger, too.

"But you changed for the better."

"It's all a matter of perspective. I know a couple of guys who think I've changed for the worse because now they can't pick on me. And I may not have known who you used to be, but... you were bound to grow into who you are now because of it."

Before Ben could sign back a response, Logan took his hand into his.

"You grew into someone I love..."

Ben freezes. His heart freezes. His brain freezes. Time itself freezes.

Logan likes Ben. Ben never knew this.

Ben likes Logan. Logan always knew this.

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Outsiders Prompt fic 1- Aren't you tired of this?

This for @battleslippers who requested prompt #6 and Tim Shepard

******************

“Heyyy Tim,” Curly was sprawled out on the sofa for the third time this week, glassy eyed and sloppy. Ma was beside him, eyes the sort of bright Tim knew could go from nice to nasty in an instant and for a second he thought he might cry.

He didn’t- of course he didn’t- but he could’ve. Shit, Curly was takin’ this whole situation real hard. He’d always liked his booze a bit too much but Tim figured that was just part of their DNA. This was something else though. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his kid brother truly sober.

“Timmy,” Ma smiled and Tim felt his shoulders tense. There was no good ending to his mother’s brief moments of excitement. He’d survived enough of her tantrums and rages to know it, “come sit with us! Have a drink.”

She’d always liked him the best.

“No,” he tugged the bottle of tequila out of Curly’s hand, “I think you’ve both had enough.”

Ma’s face darkened, “I am your mother. Don’t think you can tell me when I have and haven’t had enough.”

His mother. Right. Maria Shepard wasn’t his mother. She was a child without a childhood. A baby who’d had babies. A monster of her own making.

“Fine,” he knew better than to argue. They wouldn’t make it through the afternoon without her screaming, but if he played his cards right they might get a few more hours of peace, “but Curly’s done.”

She didn’t fight him. She never did when it came to the twins, never had, never once even wanted to. 

“Aw that ain’t fair,” Curly protested, but his voice was slurred and he was too drunk to stand on his own let alone fight him on it. Tim passed the liquor over to Ma, who immediately took a swig. “I wasn’t- wasn’t finished.”

“Oh you’re finished all right,” moving to the side of the couch, he wrapped one arm around Curly's thin shoulders- christ the kid needed to eat more- and hauled him to his feet, half carrying, half dragging him down the hall to his room. 

He dumped him onto the mattress on his side of the room. Angela had propped hers up on milk crates years ago but Curly had always left his on the ground, always slept curled up in the far corner, even when he was a baby, like if only when was small enough and far enough beneath notice he could ever have a chance at resting.

“Aren’t you tired of this?” Tim asked, “The boozin’ and the drugs- don’t say you ain’t tried anything, why else would you be a mama’s boy all of a sudden? Seriously kid, you’re killin’ me here.”

“Nah,” cloudy blue eyes blinked at him, “I’m killin’ myself.”

A shock of panic shot through him like lightning.

“Shut up!” He shook his kid brother’s shoulders half desperately, “You ain’t! Shut up!”

The faintest hint of that troublemaker grin showed on his face, “you can’t stop me.”

“Watch me.”

Curly’s eyes filled with tears. Tim couldn’t say he didn’t expect it. Drunk folk were awful predictable, even though Curly was- per usual- trying to give him a heart attack.

“He’s gone, Tim,” Curly’s voice broke, the drunken grin and sardonic comments replaced with such genuine misery Tim can feel it stinging even him, “they- the socs- the socs killed him. Drowned him in a fountain like-like he wasn’t nice and smart and good-”

“-I know,” Tim doesn’t really do affection and Curly doesn’t usually like it but shit the kid needs something, and per usual Tim is all he’s got, so he pulls him into a hug tight enough to bruise even though its clunky and awkward not a Shepard type thing to do. Those damn socs had already taken one east side kid this month. He’d be damned if he let them take another- even indirectly. He’d be damned if they took Curly. “Shit kid, I know.”

“He was my friend.” Tim knew that wasn’t strictly true. Ponyboy Curtis had always meant more to Curly than a simple friend.

“I know.”

 Curly swallowed convulsively before starting to sob in earnest, tears soaking into Tim’s sweatshirt. 

“It’s ok,” Tim said, knowing it wasn't any sort of ok, “it’ll be alright.”

They stayed like that until Curly finally fell asleep.

[bonefall]

First off, obviously this is a WC blog so I won't go further but THANKS for the brief dunk of The Lion Guard, that's one of my biggest problems with the show. Second off, are you seeing this shit Elder Bones?! * Points at the Thunder Spoiler Thread at WCRPForums * Do try to avoid reading the posts that aren't chapters though, they're bad as usual for that site lol.

Maybe one day I'll grumble about Lion King on the side blog lmao.

Anyway... that spoiler thread. I try to take these threads with a pinch of salt, but... overall feelings are really getting negative. If I had a Vibes Barometer, the needle would be dipping out of positive right now.

We're 2 books away from the conclusion and I don't know if they have time to turn this around... and they chose to spend time traveling. It's partially a travel book, guys. Several chapters of pointless bullshit.

(Spoilers under the cut-- remember we are getting this secondhand from a spoiler thread. Some of this may turn out to be misrepresentation.)

NIGHTHEART STUFF

We start off where the preview left off. They jerk the shit out of your chain with Squirrelstar teasing but spoiler we DO got her

(CELEBRATORY SQUIRRELSTAR MUSIC)

We get a BrambleSquirrel screaming match. Please for the love of god divorce these characters, this is fucking insufferable

They also had to give Bramblestar a smug little gotcha moment where he's right about his argument, Squilf accidentally walks to SkyClan camp for the plot and it turns out that Bramblestar, the guy who was apparently supposed to have memory issues and brain fog, was right that Squilf forgot how to navigate her own territory

Im dead serious she like... accidentally walked to SkyClan.

This is a clever literary trick called bad writing <3

While they're there, Nightheart says, "HEY WASNT THERE A MEDIATOR THINGY? ISNT HE SUPPOSED TO SOLVE DISPUTES?"

*I look directly into the camera. Right at you. Reader I am glimpsing across the magical threads of the internet, directly into your soul.*

Leafstar

says

"I Forgor"

if this thread is to be believed. Then the canonical explanation for why Tree was not mediating up to this point. Is because every single cat around the lake. Including the geniuses who came up with a unique role JUST for the specialest little boy. Just fucking forgot about him.

(bestselling young adult series)

Do I laugh? Do I cry?

I think im unlocking the emotion that those lizards who shoot blood from their eyes feel just before a squirt

Anyway

There is also an absurd amount of Bramblestar winking at Nightheart and teasing him about his new mate and reminding the audience about how much Nightheart wuvs him. This is probably supposed to be charming?

it just feels unsettling, ngl.

It's even more Bramble Worship than normal, like the writer is trying really hard to stress how cool and awesome their special boy is :D and how dumb and mean his wife is >:( and it's so fucking forced.

They pad the book by having it be cloudy so that StarClan doesn't show up the first time they try to do the Squirrelstar thing

I kept thinking, "What if this wasn't a willing abdication?? What if the Clan didn't have a second chance to do this?? What if this was Nightstar 2 all over again and she died of plot convenience before coming back?! This dumbfuck system has fixed NOTHING"

Plumstone and Dewnose have a moment where they antagonize Nightheart over the fact he was chosen to accompany Squilf and Bramble to the Moonpool, because he just got back and it's not fair

And you know what? They're right actually

Nightheart huffs that Squilf was giving him a Chance To Prove Himself but he doesn't fucking get it! His whole life's been nothing but chances he threw tantrums about being offered or blew up through wrecklessness, like a spoiled brat nepobaby, and he keeps getting more and more

Meanwhile Plumstone here has been in the background just being this consistently steady warrior, and has never gotten a chance to shine

He also has a moment where he whines about Sparkpelt and Finchlight being mean to him in the past when Sunbeam shares they've been super nice to her.

Sunbeam offers that they're probably trying to make up for it and he agrees.

Folks. I REALLY. REALLY HOPE. That this ends with Sunbeam telling him, "Nightheart, you are the problem. They've treated me like Kin, and they treat their Kin well. Do YOU?"

Anyway something happens and suddenly Nightheart's on the trip with Frostpaw.

The rest of his chapters so far (at time of writing the spoiler thread is at chapter 14-ish) are traveling chapters.

The traveling chapters suck diet discount dick. They look like they were rejected submissions for the various travel shenanigans that happened in Riverstar's Home.

For me, this is the most disappointing part of the Thunder Spoiler Thread. I love Nightheart because I really like the idea of him learning to grow, consider his actions, and realize that he's actually been very loved in his life.

I like the impulsive Nightheart from Book 1 who doesn't know what's wrong with himself, shooting down every attempt others make to bond with him, making shocking descisions that frustrate the entire Clan and not realizing how much he gets away with. I hoped that maybe, just maybe, the writing could be a little clever for once.

But, no. On this trip he's still whining to Frostpaw about how his family "wanted him to be like Firestar" and this is treated as something Frostpaw is able to bond with him about, somehow, because Curlfeather wanted her to be a Medcat??? And now she's choosing to be a Medcat again anyway????

FROSTPAW STUFF

WC Writing Team: "Everyone is super invested in Frostpaw's story where she learns to choose her own path! Especially the idea that she chose to not be a medcat of her own will and made a brave choice for herself! Lets fix that"

Literally, I guess lol

Smoky Cameo. Fuck Smoky. I hate this character and I hate seeing his deadbeat ass.

Gotta love how Daisy's one major role in ASC so far has been to be a source of negative emotions for Nightheart, but Smoky gets to be the new Barley with a cutesy barn rest stop.

He calls for a human to come get Frostpaw because she's got wounds.

Like. Cat MEOW MEOW calling. And this summons... a magic vet?

She has the world's fastest field surgery, as if she's some kind of endangered wild leopard and a top-notch vet staff rolled out of a research truck.

They even inject her, by hand, with tranquilizer. Who the fuck carries cat tranquilizer around?

Is this barn in the back of a fucking vet office???

Does this universe have roving surgical vans that drive around and play music like an ice cream truck, waiting for cats to call them over?????

Frostpaw wakes up back in the barn

But now her neck wound is fixed and she's spayed.

She looks down at the fresh cut on her abdomen and is like "what's this"

Smoky: "dont worry abt it"

If Frostpaw is okay with being sterilized, this will be the first time in the series that a cat being fixed will be seen as a good thing

Which, irl, it is. To be clear. Spay and neuter your animals

But dudes, this is really massively unsettling me. It seems like she doesn't know what has been done to her. This has never been treated as a positive thing in this series before. In the last book she was talking about the sort of life she would like to live

Once again she has been stripped of her own choices in a massive way

And if Smoky apparently lives so close to a vet that they just come when he calls,

I have so many questions im losing my marbles

Why is Smoky not neutered

Why were none of his 3, possibly 4 wives spayed

Why are his kids not fixed

Why were his kits with Floss taken "when they were too young to even open their eyes" back in TNP if their humans are so loving and educated

SO EDUCATED THEY WALK AROUND WITH CAT TRANQUILIZER

Anyway through the power of the writers not caring anymore, Frostpaw can now talk to StarClan whenever she wants.

They have magically bestowed a connection onto her.

This is apparently something they can just do now. Maybe it's tied to near-death experiences or the vet or something

Remember Shadowsight having a whole thing about this at the end of TBC?

Remember Mothwing and how upsetting it was to have no connection to them and how finding Willowpaw was a big thing in TNP?

Yeah apparently they could just do this whenever. Sorry.

Frostpaw is just cool with this because fuck the last book where she found out she likes being a warrior

Agency? What's THAT

It's not ok if your mom encourages you to be a doctor nun, but StarClan rips your organs out and forces you to be their mouthpiece and that's peachy-fucking-keen.

Then she goes traveling for several chapters i want to commit crime

Riverstar does the usual alarmist moaning, "ooooouuugh this newest crisis could destroy riverclan!!! Oooooooooooooouuououou it's for real this time!!!!"

Everything's gonna destroy the clans. A light breeze has just reduced ThunderClan to rubble. A beetle has landed gently upon Harestar's nose, 34 dead 25,430 injured

Girl help frostpaw is being followed by clickbait headline ghosts

And, also, for no good reason, the ghosts can't just answer a question. Why? Who fucking knows. Never explained. They can summon Frostpaw into a Ghost Zoom Call whenever they want now, but they're forbidden from revealing anything useful.

Average autistic experience with zoom calls though, can confirm, that is what every zoom call ive ever been in was like.

Im serious though, she tries to ask Reed who killed him, he just says no i cant :(

She tries to ask where her mom is. They don't tell her she's downstairs.

Riverstar says nothing useful

I have never been more frustrated with StarClan as a plot device. This is actually fucking insufferable.

They're annoying enough when they send vague signs and prophecies that amount to nothing, but now they can pop up like shitty unskippable cutscenes and STILL add nothing of value to the plot

Something I was ENJOYING was how much more grounded ASC was compared to previous arcs, and that StarClan was back to being difficult to access directly. Gone. Goodbye.

SUNBEAM STUFF

The highlight of the book everyone leave me alone i need to speak directly to sunbeam

I like how she's finding more reasons than just Nightheart to stay in ThunderClan, but is also struggling with the shift in culture

It's in a Sunbeam chapter that we FINALLY get Squilfstar. Everyone say Thank You Sunbeam

If you even LOOK at the Sunbeam wrong I will smash you to death with my hooves

For once it actually feels like we're using the cast in ThunderClan. Cherryfall, Dewnose, Plumstone, Myrtlebloom, Bayshine, Finchlight, Sparkpelt, and Lionblaze all get some significant little lines to add to this.

In particular I like Cherryfall throwing a bit of a fit about being a senior warrior and acting high and mighty, which Sunbeam immediately dislikes because ShadowClan doesn't do as much posturing. It's fun to see how she percieves ThunderClan cats.

I have a softness for these sorts of stories though, to be fair. The idea of moving to a new place and having to adjust.

It's also neat that she's growing frustrated with how Nightheart has now ditched her THRICE.

Girl please steal his family and dump him.

Be a legend. Marry his sister. It would make you the queen of pettiness you would become my favorite forever

Ivypool's exams are also pretty neat, they all test teamwork abilities. I'm going to be happy when I finally get to read them in full, if nothing else, these trials have been delightful to see.

Anyway the next emergency gathering comes up and it descends into an argument

Dovewing gets to yell at Ivypool and tell her to back off <3 "You're not going to manipulate my mate through me, screw you"

Tigerheartstar and the other leaders eventually agree to meet with the mediator off-screen because the writers don't feel like showing us Tree's madd skillz which definitely justify having this unique role that we completely forgot about until just now

It doesn't accomplish anything meaningful because they only acknowledged the mediator role to make the fans stop complaining

Tigerheartstar agrees to not station more warriors in RiverClan territory but nothing else. Waow.

aaand Berryheart's planning something and Sparrowtail, Sunbeam's father, accidentally spills the beans to his daughter. I like this because I have always imagined him as a himbo

so... yeah. It's not looking great. I'm not having a good time in this spoiler thread. I am hoping that a fair amount of it is misrepresentation, because if it's what the leaker says it is, I'm not going to be a happy camper

[shootingstarpilot]

What does the pHzero stand for in Helix's chatname? I'm sure it's obvious but I'm just missing it 😅

(Sidenote: I know that it's Marshall Commander Cody but I always read it as McCody. Like Cody McCody)

Hello there!! So, just to start off, I cannot claim credit for the genius behind that chatname- that is all @themonopolyhat in their INSANE how to bring him home companion piece To draw up the flesh off of the frame, which everyone should go read IMMEDIATELY. I borrowed it with permission for the main series, and the following explanation is all theirs- the idea, at least, if not the exact wording.

The reasoning behind the chatname is two-fold. First, strong acids have a pH of zero, and Helix likes to think he is a caustic, acidic bastard. That one I picked up on, but I completely missed the second layer and had to be enlightened by the creator, specifically:

"because Helix… as in double helix… and DNA is deoxyribonucleic ACID???"

Thanks for this ask, because now I'm giggling all over again at the brilliance behind this!

(Also, thank you for Cody McCody, this is gonna live in my head rent-free forever and a crackfic is already spawning, like I didn't ALREADY HAVE ENOUGH-)

[trickstarbrave]

WIP WEDNESDAY

i got tagged in wip wednesday by @boethiahspillowbook but i am nocturnal so it is now thursday. so happy wip wednesday thursday

tagginggggg @soundwavefucker69 @thescrolls-haveforetold @risaho @caliblorn and @orfeoarte. AND ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO :))))))

i bring you:

nerevoryn yuri redraw. does anyone else remember the 500 redraws of this song on niconico? the anime isn't good. but i do still like the music. rip.

in terms of art im making that IS NOT like im still living in 2008 we have this:

and for writing i have been uhhhh slow. getting back into the groove of it. but i do have this:

--

The morning of the attack was cloudy. They were delayed a bit, waiting for enough sunlight to see. It was overcast and the waves of the sea were grey and rocky. For a moment, Nerevar remembered the ash-grey skin of the dunmer, coming to mind like a fever dream as he stared at the crashing water. He’d hoped it wasn’t an omen for what was to come. 

Not every battle could be a success, but he felt like there was a lot riding on this to work. If he failed, House Mora would never let him hear the end of it, every noble they knew gossiping about how they couldn’t expect anything else from a half-blood like Nerevar. House Indoril would refuse him the title of Hortator on top of it…

Part of him wanted it to fail so he didn’t have to take that stupid title all over again. Yet he knew, deep down, it would only ruin the time he had left with Voryn. He wanted them to part ways on amicable terms, after all. Nerevar wanted to be the proud, charismatic man he was in the past--though significantly less angry and cruel--so that he could still stand by Voryn’s side as a friend. 

And so here he was, standing beside Alandro Sul, burning incense for the Lady of Twilight. He hadn’t prayed to her in years; not since coming back. He wondered if she looked at him with disdain for only coming back when he needed something, before remembering all she asked him to do in the past. She tasked him with killing his former friends, family, and beloved. It seemed only fair he ask that they do well in battle. 

Moraelyn eyed him suspiciously as he prayed, but Nerevar tried to pay him no mind. Instead, all Nerevar did was close his eyes and plead that they won without losing anyone he held most dear. He didn’t like losing any of his men, but if he lost his closest friends or Voryn he didn’t know what he’d do. What kind of person he would turn into. What kind of wrath he would bring down.

But finally, it was time. Whether he was ready or not, there was a city to take back.

[jomiddlemarch]

call understanding thy kinswoman

“Here,” Mary said, pushing a steaming mug in front of Rilla after hurrying through the ordinary polite exchanges required of a greeting, even among family. “Drink this first. You look green around the gills and I don’t fancy explaining to Jem why his baby sister ended up in a puddle on our sitting room floor.”

“We’re in the kitchen,” Rilla said, turning her face away from the table. Feeling the nausea rise in her throat, hardly daring to take a deep breath. “I can’t drink your coffee, it’s too strong—”

“It’s ginger tea, silly. And if you faint here, I’ll still tell your brother we were in the sitting room, not at the kitchen table. He’s been at me to get a girl to help and I don’t want one—”

“You’d lie about something like this,” Rilla asked. She reached forward and picked up the mug, inhaled the spicy scent of the ginger tea. She gestured with a little nod of her head at the scene, Mary across from her at the well-scrubbed table, all the pots and pans gleaming copper in the dull, cloudy light of a dull, cloudy afternoon that hadn’t made its mind up yet to rain.

“Of course. If the lie was what was needed. What James— what Jem needed,” Mary said. Rilla recalled Mary called Jem by his Christian name, the only one he’d allow to do so, though he’d given their mother a quelling near-glare when she’d remarked on it. Mary gave Rilla a familiar look, one that sized her up in a moment, though it was fonder than it used to be, an alteration Rilla attributed to Mary’s affection for Jem. “It’s Ken you want to talk about. Go on then.”

“How did you know?” Rilla said. She sipped at the tea, willing it to do something. Ginger was said to help. She’d learned though, that many things people said would help a difficult situation weren’t the least bit helpful and that people, with the possible exception of Una and Rosemary Meredith, had an endless supply of suggestions. Mary most often held her tongue around the Blythe family, but she wouldn’t hold back if you asked her opinion.

“You’d have gone to your mother if you were fussed about morning sickness or having the baby,” Mary said. “It would’ve been a gift, to give her something like that to occupy her. If you wanted some coddling. You’re here instead and it’s certainly not for my shortbread. Nan’s away and Jerry’s crippled because of his back, nothing else. She wouldn’t be much help and you don’t want her pity.”

“Mother’s useless,” Rilla said. Admitted. “And Nan’s a priss and always has been—”

“Finally,” Mary muttered under her breath.

“But it really is that Jerry’s wounds are all just physical. Sometimes I wish, I think, maybe if Ken had lost an arm or needed a cane, it would be better. Easier,” Rilla said.

“Maybe. Or maybe he’d be like he is now only with one arm of his jacket pinned up or walking around like an old man before he’s turned thirty. There aren’t any bargains to be made about this, Rilla. Nor wishes.”

“He came home and he said, he asked me, ‘Are you Rilla-my-Rilla?’ and I said yes,” Rilla said, looking down into the crockery mug. It was sturdy and practical, like her sister-in-law, and her own mother would have blanched to serve a cup of tea in it, let alone her sister. There were no tea leaves to read, so she looked back up and found Mary watching her, a little half-smile on her lips.

“Are you bothered by your answer or his question?” 

Rilla laughed in spite of herself.

“Dad says you’re wasted as a doctor’s wife, that you ought to be a barrister.”

Mary smiled and though there was no flush in her cheeks, her expression warmed, her fair hair suddenly seemed richer in tone, more like the narrow gold band on her fourth finger.

“Your father’s twice as fanciful as your mother is and I’ve heard her go on to Bruce Meredith about fairies and mayflowers more than I could ever believe,,” she said. “Being a doctor’s wife suits me fine. Jem will be home in a few hours, though, and I’ve his supper to see to, so if you do want to talk, you might be getting on with it.”

“He’s not himself. Ken. He’s not who he was when he went away. When he asked me to wait. He’s not mine, even if I’m his,” Rilla said, all in a rush. She felt queasy again, unsure why, neither explanation a comfort.

“Couldn’t be, could he? Especially since he came home and others didn’t. Walter,” Mary said. “I think he’d hate it, Walter, how he’s a saint now and Ken and the rest of them, they’ve got to be men all the time and tell us it’s all in the past, it was worth it. Cheerful, determined. I’ve never wondered Shirley won’t come back to the Glen, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Rilla said.

“There you go. That’s what you needed to get to,” Mary said. It was rare to be praised by her and Rilla was surprised how much she liked it. How much it was a balm. “Can he sleep?”

“Sometimes. Not well. He has dreams, he won’t talk about them,” Rilla said.

“I won’t say anything,” Mary replied. “To anyone. Certainly not your brother. He can’t sleep either. He cries sometimes, without ever waking up. You won’t say anything about that.”

“Oh,” Rilla said. “I didn’t know—”

“He doesn’t want anyone troubled. I’m the only one who won’t let him get away with that. Which is partly why he married me,” Mary said.

“I don’t know why Ken married me,” Rilla said softly.

Mary chuckled, but it had none of the wry mockery of her usual laughter.

“You poor pet. I forget, sometimes, how young you are.”

“I’m only six years younger than you, Mary, not a generation,” Rilla snapped.

“When I was six, my ma hung herself and my pa slit his wrists,” Mary said. “You were always precious. I wasn’t, not to anybody, not ‘til Jem anyway. Ken married you because you were the dream he had that kept him alive in that absolute hell in France. Because you wrote to him and you raised that baby and because you’re the happiness he always thought he wanted. You’re easy on the eyes too, but I’ll grant him that it’s easier to fall in love with a pretty girl than a plain one.”

“You can’t marry a dream,” Rilla said.

“No, you can’t. Nor live with one. They came home, however they did, and for a while, anyway, I suppose it’s up to us to figure out how to be more than that. It’s harder for you, because of your families and how you had that crush on him and he had that memory of you in a party dress in the moonlight to go by. Jem didn’t have any dreams of me to get in the way,” Mary said.

“Is this how you talk to Jem?”

“I’ll thank you to keep your nosy questions to yourself,” Mary retorted. 

“I only meant, is this how you help him through?”

“It doesn’t matter. You have to find out how to talk to Ken and I haven’t any advice about that man. Well, I’ve a little. I think he’s got to feel guilty as sin to have come home with just a few scars and everyone expects him to write some masterpiece and he won’t want to let anyone down. I bet it’s hard to have any ideas after the trenches and it’s hard to write when your hands tremble.”

“How did you know?”

“Jem’s do, sometimes. I’ve learned to look for it. Get Ken a typewriter, that’s my advice. Tell him about the baby before you tell your mother. Promise him you won’t call it Walter. Say you want some ordinary name that no one in your family’s gotten all tied up with sentiment and honor. John. Margaret. Maybe Alice, like Alice in Wonderland.”

“My grandfather’s name was John,” Rilla said. Grandfather Blythe, who’d died before she was born.

“Everyone’s grandfather was named John,” Mary said.

“I suppose that’s nearly true,” Rilla said and smiled. 

“Nearly true’s good enough more than you’d think,” Mary said. “You should come round for dinner here sometimes. We can let them go sit on the porch while we gossip about Faith Drew while we make some tea to go with the cake you bring. I heard she bobbed her hair and she smokes and Bertie don’t care. ‘Scuse me, she calls him Will, like we all don’t remember him being a holy terror and his ma hollering his name Bertie Shakespeare for him to come home.”

“You’ll serve my cake?” Rilla said. It was the biggest surprise, as Nan had already passed along the gossip about Faith’s hair and her modern ways. Fast, Susan said, frowning and Rilla, who had never thought it possible, had found herself nodding along. 

“Susan won’t give me her recipe for plum cake and it’s one of Jem’s favorites. He’ll have two slices, enormous ones, if we’re there for Sunday dinner and she puts it out,” Mary said. “He’s greedy for sweets now, though he hates to admit it.”

“Jem’s greedy?” Rilla said.

“Oh yes. He’s all sorts of vices. I’m sure Ken has his as well. You’d do well to find out which ones,” Mary said.

“To help him overcome them?” 

“To love him for them,” Mary said. 

[sad-chaos-goblin]

Wrote a little ficlet based on this post I made. It doesn't cover everything I listed but this is how it came out. I'd never considered writing fics until very recently but GO has taken over my mind, heart and sanity and this fandom is incredibly inspiring, so here we are 🤍

It was over. The Metatron had been defeated and the system had been brought crashing down. Now they had to rebuild, to create something truly good and fair from scratch. But right now that was not a priority to Aziraphale. Right now, he had a demon to apologise to.

Crowley had accepted to work together to thwart the Metatron, of course. But he had been standoffish towards Aziraphale the entire time. Every single interaction had been tense and awkward, and Crowley had never stuck around any longer than what was strictly necessary for them to strategise. The ease and warmth was gone ever since that awful day at the bookshop. 

Aziraphale knows where to find him. He climbs the fire escape up to the roof above the bookshop and finds him sitting on the wall that surrounds the rooftop, looking out onto the city, legs dangling casually over the ledge and an open bottle of wine next to him. Crowley doesn't turn around, even though Aziraphale knows he's felt him arrive. He walks up to him and leans his hands on the waist-high wall. Crowley keeps staring straight ahead. He has his sunglasses on, of course. The angel hasn't seen him without them ever since the day he accepted the supreme archangel job.

“You’re back.” says the demon, his voice neutral as he continues to look straight ahead.

“Crowley, we need to talk.”

"We got rid of that big giant floating head twat and that was quite the ordeal. If you're coming to suggest another life-endangering mission, sUpRemE aRChAnGeL, I'm afraid I'm tapped out.” He takes a swig of the bottle, his gaze fixed on the cloudy London horizon. Thunder rumbles nearby.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale says gently, “I… I am an idiot.”

Crowley slowly turns his head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Why would you say that?” he grumbles, looking back into the distance.

Aziraphale takes a step closer, wringing his hands nervously. He knows what he wants to say but suddenly he feels like any words he could utter couldn’t possibly be good enough. But he must try. “The last thing I ever wanted was to leave you. I need you to know what.”

“And yet you left. You made your choice.” Crowley's words are heavy with sadness.

“I… it’s not that simple. The Metatron he… the way he made the offer, I had no other option. He knew about us, if I hadn’t gone along with it I don’t know what he would have done to us, to you. I… I wanted to make things so you could be safe, I needed to…” the words tumble out, high pitched and pained.

“He knew about us...” interrupts Crowley, musingly, saying each word slowly. He sighs lightly and turns his head towards Aziraphale. “And what is it that he knew about us?”

The angel freezes, feeling an additional wave of nervousness strike him. “You... you know what I mean.”

Crowley swings his long legs around and drops down off the wall to stand, facing him. “WHAT isss it that he knew about usss, Aziraphale?” he repeats, spitting out each word.

“About… us, being … uhm… the agreement.” He’s feeling panicked, but instantly regrets his words.

Thunder crashes loudly above them and rain starts to fall as the demon faces him silently, his face full of sadness, his jaw tight. 

“The agreement. Indeed.” Crowley finally says, dejectedly.

He turns and starts walking away. For a moment, Aziraphale feels unable to move, overwhelmed with a feeling of helplessness. But something inside him shocks him into action and he rushes forward, catching up to Crowley and grabbing his arm to turn him around.

They face each other again, Crowley's expression desolate, raindrops in his hair and dripping down his face. “Crowley, I am so, so utterly sorry. I was so afraid. I have always been so afraid. Of what could happen to us, what they could do to us, to you, of losing you if we weren't careful enough. And because of that, I have spent all these centuries pretending..." His voice breaks. "Pretending that I am not in love with you.”

Crowley twitches slightly, looking stunned. He opens his mouth as if to speak but says nothing, almost as if he can’t remember how to form words. 

Aziraphale lifts his hand tentatively to Crowley’s sunglasses. “May I?” – he asks.

Crowley nods, still looking quite stunned. Aziraphale gently removes them and feels a deep pang of emotion at seeing those beautiful yellow eyes again after so long. He smiles softly. They silently look into each other’s eyes for a long moment, hearts thundering. 

Crowley breaks eye contact and looks down. "Angel, I am a demon, I am what I am, that can't be changed or fixed". 

"Oh Crowley, I love everything you are, I don't want you to change." smiles Aziraphale, gazing up at him with adoration.

Crowley leans his forehead against the angel's, smiling, his golden eyes welled with tears.

His voice cracks a bit as he speaks, "I don't ever want to pretend again, angel. I want to be us, for eternity."

"For eternity", replies Aziraphale, placing his hand on Crowley's cheek and gently pulling him into a kiss.

The rain is easing off. A nightingale sings in the distance.

[astranite]

WIP Late-Wednesday

Scott needed help. Scott asks for help even if its just a little thing.

This is a part of a scene I've had in my mind for a while that follows my fic Close Call. Ao3. Probably is still comprehensible if you havent read it but like also look more earth and sky!! So here a rough partial version though its got a fair amount to it and words for a wip Wed so here!! Enjoy the earth and sky moment.

---

Scott let out a growl of frustration, flapping his hand about in an attempt to dislodge the tape. A foolish attempt, he found, as it flipped around and stuck to the other side of his hand. So now it was sticking! It hadn't before to the point and clearly the adhesive wasn’t the problem, it was very effective except at going where he wanted it!

He wadded up another ball of the athletic tape to join the other attempts. At this rate he was going to run out before he managed to get any to stick where he wanted it. He was trying to take care of his shoulder and do all the right things. He’d done his physio exercises each morning with Gordon after their respective swim and run so he wouldn’t forget and Gordon would tell him if he thought he was pushing himself too hard. He’d worn the sling, even though he hated having an arm immobilised. 

He really was for once trying to take care of himself  because he’d actually listened to Virgil even when it took both of them having a sobbing breakdown for it to stick, but the entire universe seemed dead set against it. The ugly, beige tape and bits of paper backing stared up at him from where they were strewn across his bathroom counter. A couple had even landed in the sink. Scott averted his eyes, same as he’d done from the mirror, staring instead at his bare feet. There was yet another failed attempt fallen down there.  The blue polish from when he’d let Gordon paint his nails was still stuck to them. He wriggled his toes into the fluffy bathmat in an attempt to distract himself.

As he rolled his right shoulder backwards, the joint popped and clicked. It had healed up alright after he’d dislocated it weeks back so Virgil and Grandma were finally letting him back on active rescue duty. Not just light duty protocols where he wasn’t even allowed out of One no matter how much he ached to help properly. Virgil’s firm commands and the memory of his terrified anger, along with the way John’s eyes had widened, expression crumpling the one time he’d almost moved had kept him in his seat.

Scott pulled his shirt back on. At least now he wasn’t gasping in pain every time he had to manoeuvre his arm into the sleeve. His shoulder was pretty much back to its usual level of dull hurt if he overworked it and sharp stabs if he did something really weird. Virgil had also informed him when he accidentally said this that it wasn't normal for it to hurt all the time at all without a current injury. So that was something too.

His feet took him to the lounge room where he knew Virgil would be painting right now, what was left of the roll of tape in hand. He let himself walk up to Virgil’s easel, like this was totally normal, like he wasn’t doing anything new, or unprecedented. There was nothing to be nervous about. He bit at the inside of his cheek.

A deep breath in, let it out. Then: “Hey Virge.”

Virgil immediately looked up from his stunning landscape of the island, brows nearly meeting in the middle.

Yup very normal, Scott. Virgil the musician totally wouldn't notice how his voice was a pitch higher than usual.

“What’s up?” Virgil began cautiously.

Scott balled his hands into fists before consciously relaxing them. 

QOUTE 

QUOTE

The memories played back in his mind. He could just ask.

“Virgil, I need your help?”

It came out as more of a question than Scott had meant. He was ready to stuff the words back down his throat in the second of silence that followed.

His brother stiffened minutely, grip tightening around his paintbrush. But then he smiled up at Scott, putting the brush into cloudy turquoise water in the jar.

“Sure, what with?”

Oh. 

Like that Virgil was ready to help him.

Scott head spun, he’d been holding his breath and he let it out shakily. Why the hell was this harder than jumping out of One? He was just asking Virgil for help with what was objectively a small task and it wasn’t like they didn’t ever help patch each other up and check over gear on missions. But this time it was him approaching and doing the asking.

“My shoulder, I’ve been trying to strap it up for today, like you said.” He waved the tape around vaguely.

Virgil settled a hand on his uninjured shoulder, grounding him with the weight. 

Scott let himself lean into it. Impulsively, he tipped forward so he could hug his brother press their foreheads together. 

Virgil’s deep brown eyes widened in surprise before softening at the edges.

He rested a warm hand at the back of Scott neck, smiling at him.

“I’m happy to help.”

Scott closed his eyes, letting the relief sink in and hope to fix this moment in his mind so next time it was something big he’d remember this.

[seizethedre]

(In the Silence Between Cicada Song) Chapter One: To Dance with the Devil

“Sam,” Alastor repeated slowly, as though trying out a foreign word for the first time. “It's a pleasure to be meeting you, Sam.” His grin was stretched languidly over his face, dark eyes hooded and shining with interest, looking at Lucifer like he was something new and exciting and worthy of all his attention. Lucifer gulped, his mouth drier than it had been when he woke up that morning as Alastor brought the hand he was shaking up to his face. He turned his wrist, pressing a chaste kiss to the fair skin of Lucifer’s knuckles, all the while keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the smaller man. “Quite a pleasure.”

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

The chirping of cicadas rang through the room from the open window. Warm air pushed past the blinds, the humidity from outside forcing strands of hair to cling to the tacky skin of Lucifer’s face. He lay in bed, blankets tangled in a heap around his bare waist as he stared up at the ceiling. He traced the streaks of light cutting across the room, unblinking despite the heaviness of his half-lidded eyes. 

His head was throbbing, thoughts and sounds sharpening to daggers as the subduing oblivion of last night’s drunken stupor wore off. His brain pounded madly against his skull, mouth dry and tongue thick like he’d spent the midnight hours throwing back glasses of sawdust instead of  alcohol.

Lucifer was miserable.

The mission last night was to find a way to outrun the parasitic darkness that had seemingly chosen him a worthy host to cling to, and while he had found success and comfort at the bottom of a bottle, post-inebriation clarity revealed to him that his preferred coping mechanism had never quite rescued him from the storm, rather it threw him a life vest. 

As he kept his stare fixed on the shifting light, stomach churning and one wrong move away from spewing last night’s mistakes, Lucifer quietly admitted defeat, understanding that he was, as he always had been, treading water. Yes, he was kicking helplessly against the devilish currents of the sea. It was only a matter of time before his tired, tired limbs gave out and he descended to his watery grave, never to be seen again. 

The melodrama of his perspective wasn’t lost to him, but such was his reality, or so he thought.

Eventually, he managed to haul himself to the edge of the bed, dropping a pale arm off the side as he felt around for the bottle he knew would be there. Fingertips brushing the cold hardness of glass, he swung his arm back up, nearly hitting himself square in the face as the momentum propelled the empty bottle further than intended. Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise at the near-miss, blinking through the cloudiness of his mind.

He dropped the bottle onto the sheets next to him, flopping onto his front as he buried his head into one of the pillows. He screamed, the noise a muffled cry before it trailed off into a frustrated groan. He huffed, panting into the stale air, considered the benefits of suffocation for a moment, before he rolled right back into his original position to gulp mouthfuls of muggy oxygen. 

Lifting his head, he caught a glimpse of the clock, noting that it was well into the afternoon. 

If you had asked him, Lucifer would tell you that he had absolutely no intention of getting out of bed today, which seemed to be a pretty common occurrence in recent weeks, however if his memory served him right, and in his current state he couldn’t even be sure of that, then this drained bottle next to him had been his last and that simply wouldn’t do. 

He really wasn’t in the mood to run into people. It helped, of course, that he lived a bit farther out of town than the majority of the other residents, ensuring that he never received visitors and saw his neighbors only when he wanted to. The fact that he was new in town was helpful to his cause, too, and his status as a recluse had quickly driven away any of the bolder, more curious of the bunch from coming around to snoop around the fresh meat.

They’d eat him alive if they ever found out who he was.

But, as luck would have it, his self-destructive hierarchy of needs was missing one very crucial, foundational element and if he wanted to waste away into intoxicated bliss again tonight, he would, unfortunately, need to venture out into the great big world for some more booze. 

Oh, happy day indeed.

It was at least another hour before Lucifer pulled himself through the front door. His face was fixed into a scowl as he squinted into the dappled daylight that poked through the mess of trees that surrounded his humble abode. He hated the way the moisture in the air made his clothes cling to his skin, regardless of the fact that he had only barely stepped foot outside. The material was much too thick and absorbent for the region he found himself in, the fabric much better suited for the steadfast cold of London’s daily forecast. 

If he were a better man, maybe he would have gone out to purchase a new, more fitting wardrobe by now. Had he been the Lucifer from a year sooner, he would have made a day out of going to New Orleans’ finest shops, trying on the latest styles and paying an absurd amount of money without so much as a blink of an eye. Charlie would have accompanied him, of course. She’d pick out the bright colors that caught her eye, made him try on gaudy hats and ridiculous patterns, laugh at his model poses and primadonna impressions. 

God, she’d laugh so hard she’d start crying, probably. And he would laugh right alongside her, scooping her up in his arms and twirling her around exactly in the way she liked just to get her to laugh a little harder. The store clerks would eye them distastefully for their ruckus, but would ultimately remain quiet because a moment of chaos and revelry was worth the small fortune they’d be spending at their business.

Lucifer had lived out an entire dizzying afternoon with his daughter by the time he reached the fork in the road that would lead him into town.

Reality hit him like a punch to his chest, swift and cruel.

He blinked under the shade of an oak tree, chastising himself for falling privy to foolish, impossible fantasies and unfulfillable desires. Charlie was nowhere near here, and if the threats he’d been given held any truth, if they held even an ounce of weight, then he would never see his little girl again, either. 

The breath that had been knocked out of him returned slowly and by sheer force of will. When Lucifer finally managed to still his shaking form, he picked up one foot and set it back down on the dirt path in front of him. One. He picked up his other foot and placed it down in front of the first. Two. So on and so forth, he repeated the pattern of placing one foot in front of the other, thinking of nothing else besides the number he was on, counting each step until he reached nearly twelve-hundred. It was then that he stopped and looked up from the dust that coated his shoes and dirtied the hem of his pant legs.

He thanked whatever poor gods assigned to watch over him that the general store was the closest shop to his house. Just the idea of having to venture further into the town for any essentials he may need made his skin crawl. Just the thought of the stares and whispers aimed his way sent a sour taste filling up his mouth. 

At least he could count on Ozzie not to ask too many questions.

The brass door plate was cool to the touch, a pleasant contrast to the wet heat of the outside. Pushing, the wood swung open easily and quietly, his stealthy entrance foiled by the chiming of the door bell that announced his arrival. Cringing at the loudness, Lucifer jumped slightly at the sound, waiting for the heavy footsteps he knew would follow soon enough.

Like clockwork, not a second later he heard the thundering of heavy shoes tromping up the cellar stairs. If Lucifer were capable of it, he’d laugh at the absurdity of the man who was steadily coming into view.

Ozzie was a massive, hulking mass of a man. A lifetime of sea-faring had molded him into a formidable figure with the muscle to back it up. His hair was long and thick, dark locks twisted into dreads and pulled back. His forearms were thick and corded, oozing with the promise of deadly strength, a silent warning to anybody who happened to catch a glimpse of him for the first time. Yeah this guy was not to be trifled with, especially if you were someone like Lucifer, who tended to dwell more in the compact and lean category of male physiology.

Lucifer wasn’t the smartest man alive, this was a fact of life not to be mistaken for humility, please and thank you, but eleven he knew that Ozzie probably wasn’t someone whose bad side you wanted to worm your way into. The man was terrifying: a giant who could crush him without breaking a sweat. And yet, there was something very perplexing about his character that had halted Lucifer in his path when he had first seen him, and that was rooted very precisely in the little details of the man. Lucifer was referring to, of course, the fact that the man liked to wear a dainty pink apron whenever he worked in his shop.

You can see why Lucifer was unnerved, right? To mention or not to mention, the dilemma had Lucifer balking, thoughts teetering between catering to his confusion and giving into the whims of his already tightly-trung, frayed nerves. 

He was nigh pissing himself a month ago when Ozzie introduced himself with a plate of biscuits and a smile. Turns out the apron belonged to his mother and he wore it to honor her legacy. His parents had owned the store and through their hard work had been able to provide for their six children. When they’d gotten too old to run the place, Ozzie had stepped in to keep the business afloat, having just returned from his latest voyage at sea.

Lucifer was oddly emotional listening to his tale, touched by the big man’s gentle heart and warmth, if not a little overwhelmed by the ease with which he told a stranger about his life’s intimate details. Nonetheless, Lucifer was relieved to see that the same degree of openness with which he was greeted was not expected to be reciprocated by him. Ozzie let him keep his secrets, and Lucifer was grateful for that.

“Sam! I thought that might have been you. I was telling Bee just yesterday that it was nigh time we see you around here.”

“Evening, Ozzie.” Lucifer shook the man’s outstretched hand, trying not to wince at the natural tight grip that engulfed his smaller one. “How’s business?”

Ozzie turned back to the register and Lucifer followed alongside him, matching his stride with two of his own. “Busy as usual. You know the ports here get busier every single day. New faces come in and out of this place all the time. I’m just grateful to see someone familiar, you know?” The store owner laughed heartily, a loud, boisterous thing that Lucifer could feel echoing off his chest. His lips twitched into a small smile.

“Glad to know I’m still your favorite customer,” he replied smoothly, trying to keep his tone light.

“Come on now, man, you know you’re more than just a customer. We’re friends now, Sam! Me and the swamp rat, the best of pals.”

“Do people around here actually call me a swamp rat?” Lucifer knew he couldn’t blame them for thinking that if they did, he was never really around to defend himself or prove to them otherwise, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t at least a little bit offended by the title. Ozzie bellowed out another great, big chuckle and patted a heavy hand across Lucifer’s back sympathetically. “Only the folks who’ve never seen you!”

“So, basically the entire town, then?” Lucifer deadpanned, which set Ozzie off into a whole new fit of laughter.

“Aw, come on now, man. They don’t mean any harm by it. They’re just curious, is all. You’re just one big mystery, you know? You blew into town overnight without so much as a whisper and hardly come into town. Folks around here love to talk, you can hardly blame them for letting their imaginations fill in the gaps, can you?”

“I suppose not,” he relented, crossing his arms. “Not to cut to the chase or anything, but do you have–”

“The usual?” Ozzie finished, cutting him off while reaching for something beneath the counter. He hoisted up a small crate and set it down onto the counter with surprising gentleness. The contents tinkled as they rattled in place. “Yeah, I got it.”

Lucifer went red in the face. Maybe due to the fact that Ozzie’s easy smile had twisted into something almost disapproving and there was something that glinted suspiciously of concern in his eyes, or maybe it was because the sound of glass bottles and their promised contents sent a bolt of shame piercing through him. He swallowed past it and reached for his pocket, fumbling around for the bills he had shoved in there on his way out the door.

He couldn’t bring himself to meet his friend’s eye as he placed the money on the counter.

“Um, I’ll take two for now. I, uh, didn’t bring my bike today. I can come by tomorrow and pick up the rest if that’s alright with you?”

“I’ll do you one better,” Ozzie responded, voice soft as he plucked two bottles of whisky from the crate, sliding them over to Lucifer. “Why don’t I swing by later and drop them off at your house?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise, flicking up to meet the taller man’s gaze. He was touched by the offer, if only mildly. There was a greater part of him that tensed immediately at the man’s words, and despite knowing that Ozzie was a good man who had been nothing but forthright and good to him, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel on edge and suspicious of someone threatening to invade his space. 

“You would do that?” He asked, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.

“Of course, what are friends for?” Ozzie replied with a wave of his hand. “It’s about time I get to see where you live. I have to convince the town you’re not an actual swamp rat after all, right?”

The tension didn’t leave Lucifer's shoulders, but the nagging suspicion dissipated a little, leaving him to breathe a little easier.

“Besides,” the big man continued, “it’s not like it’s not coming with a price.”

“You want money,” Lucifer stated, already reaching for his pockets. He had no problem paying extra. If it meant he got the rest of it tonight and one less venture into town, he would gladly pay for the delivery.

“No no, I don’t want your money,” Ozzie ushered, batting away the offered cash with a frown. “I want you to come out tonight. My sister, Bee, owns a club just a few streets over. She says she’s got a new band coming in to play, and from the sound of it, this night is aiming to be a good one. Come on, Sam,” he prompted, seeing the hesitance in the other man’s face. “It’ll be fun, I promise. And if you’re still feeling too sober by the time we get there, I’ll buy your drinks the rest of the night. What d’you say, pal?”

No. I say no. Hell no, fuck no, even. At least that’s what Lucifer had wanted to say. Perhaps it was the lingering alcohol in his veins, or the prominent, imploringly wide eyes of the giant across from him, but instead, and despite his better judgment, he found himself nodding.

“I’ll go. Tonight, I’ll go. Just one night.”

“Alright, Sam. Alright then.”

…

Nine rolled around sooner than Lucifer could blink. Ozzie said he would head over his way after closing up shop and Lucifer hardly had time to process his words before his hands began to tingle and his heart started to thud audibly in his chest.

He couldn’t remember the walk to his house, only vaguely registering when he’d sat down on the edge of his bed, some far-gone, reasonable part of his mind wondering when he’d left the general store to begin with. Hours had passed in a blur of shallow breaths that mimicked his thoughts as they zoomed from one extreme to another. Everything and nothing crossed his mind. He considered too much, but not enough. The loud rush of his heartbeat in his ears prevented any single thought from taking root, and just as quickly as it had arrived, it was replaced by another, spiraling idea.

Why had he agreed to do this? That seemed to be one of the few, coherent notes darting around in the mess upstairs. Among other recurring thoughts were ideas of how he could wriggle himself out of this commitment. Perhaps if he drank enough, he would pass out before Ozzie arrived. But fuck, this was hardly enough alcohol. Maybe he could fake it? Under normal circumstances, Lucifer was a shit liar, but maybe the bottles in his hand could provide enough liquid courage to sell it? What if Lucifer forewent lying altogether and just told Ozzie that he didn’t want to go? Would the man accept? Or would he drag his sorry ass to the club regardless? Lucifer didn’t know anything except for the ringing in his ears and the racing of his pulse.

He needed to leave. He tore through the buttons of his shirt, finding the collar far too suffocating as sweat dripped off the side of his face. He needed to leave.

But then there was a knock on the door followed by the dull, twin thuds of heavy somethings hitting the floor beneath him. He glanced down and saw the bottles of whisky he’d been holding since he had left Ozzie’s store. His hands were sweaty and red from where he had gripped them tightly for the past handful of hours, necks clenched tightly in his fists. One of them rolled to a stop against the tip of his shoe.

Another knock came from the door, this one followed by a hesitant, “Sam?”

Lucifer groaned, face paling as he rose from the bed. He swayed on his feet and for a second he thought that he wouldn’t have to fake his unconsciousness before his legs regained their strength and he was able to face down the hallway at his front door.

“Coming,” he called out, shuffling towards the door. He pulled his wrecked shift over his chest, hoping his friend wouldn’t comment on the state of his wardrobe. Opening the door revealed a bright-eyed and freshly re-dressed Ozzie. His hair was loosed from its usual tied-up fashion, thick strands tumbling down between his shoulder blades. He was grinning wickedly as he took in Lucifer’s disheveled appearance.

“Well, it’s not that kind of club, Sam, but if that’s what you’re looking for I can definitely point you in the right direction.”

“Har-har, Oz. Come on in, give me a few minutes to get dressed and we can go.”

“Try not to sound too excited there, pal,” the larger man responded mildly, distracted as he looked around at the small home. 

It was, to put it politely, plain. The bungalow was unassuming on the outside, and the inside wasn’t much different. There were bare walls and minimal furniture, and while not lost to complete squalor, the place was definitely on the untidy side. But hey, Ozzie wasn’t one to judge and really he was just grateful that Sam had allowed him to come to his house in the first place

“Um, how does this look, Oz?”

Lucifer emerged from his bedroom wearing more clothes than he had in well over a month. His torn shirt was replaced with a cleaner, smarter white button-up tucked into simple brown trousers. A matching jacket hung from his hand and he stood unsure, tugging at his clothes as he waited for the verdict. Ozzie let out a low whistle as he eyed the man’s outfit.

“Sam, my man. Well you sure clean up nice, don’t you?”

“It’s not too much? Or, erm, too little? I don’t want to insult your sister by looking like a mess at her club.” 

Ozzie wandered over to his friend and dusted his immaculate clothes before settling his heavy hands on his shoulders. “You look good, Sam. Don’t worry. Have I ever led you astray? Besides, the only issue I see here is how I’m going to manage to fight all those women off of you,” he winked. “I’ll get you home in one piece if that’s what you want, don’t you worry.”

“Sure,” Lucifer mumbled. He shook himself off, forcing his posture to lose some of its stiffness as he slid his arms through his coat sleeves. He was sure he’d be taking it off sooner rather than later, the lack of sunlight only dulling the heat and humidity to a slightly more bearable level. “Well, shall we be off then?”

“We shall.”

The entire journey to Bee’s club was filled with lively chatter. From Ozzie’s end, at least. The man couldn’t seem to find it in him to stop talking about anything and everything. He was in the middle of recounting the riveting tale about how his younger sister, Belle, had fallen off of a dock one summer after they had been tasked with collecting crawdads. Poor thing had been not only soaked, but had to sit through a scolding while their mother picked the crayfish out of her curly hair. Lucifer was only half listening, too wrapped up in his own worry to feel any true sympathy for some past version of his friend’s sister that he had never even met. 

The hard thumping of his heart was back, it felt like a little jockey was riding his heart, pushing it to go faster and faster until he really thought it might just give out. The only thing that seemed to help him was his tradition of counting as he went. One breath, two breaths, three. He would survive the night if he just kept at it. 

Part of him was frustrated with himself for being so dramatic about the whole thing. It was a jazz club for crying out loud, not a fucking battlefield. This wasn’t one of those soirees or galas that his parents used to host. There was no one there he had to impress, no talent he had to sell, no worth he had to prove to anyone. It was just a room full of strangers and music and drinks. He loved to party, didn’t he? He loved people and crowds and dancing, and had spent so much of his life living it up and having fun, soaking in the ambiance of society. Why was this so different? Why was he incapable of enjoying what he never had a problem enjoying before? 

Deep down, he knew why. He was reminded of it constantly, even despite his efforts to drown out the recurring thoughts with alcohol, he knew. But tonight would be different. Tonight he would try and he would have fun because he was with his friend and life hadn’t ended on that lonely English bridge eight weeks ago, even though he really hoped it would.

He could do this. He could stay out and enjoy the night, just this once.

Surely his life couldn’t get any worse, right?

They had pulled up to the club all too soon and Lucifer fought to maintain his breathing steady as he read the sign above the door.

Bee’s Palace

Ozzie smiled encouragingly, sensing his friend’s discomfort as he held the door open for him to pass through first. It was hard to tell from outside since the streets of New Orleans were always teeming with live music from every street corner, but it was clear that this was clearly the place to be for a good time on a Friday night. Together they descended the small set of stairs, immediately engulfed in the loud, brassy notes of a live band. 

The room was cramped and hazy with smoke as bodies moved about the room. Plush red leather booths were pressed into the walls, occupied by patrons dressed to the nines and sipping casually on drinks. The room was dimly lit save for the stage at one end, the light of which reflected off of the polished wood of the dancefloor just in front of it. Couples were dancing, the night in full swing as they twirled and rocked to the beat of the song that was playing. The air felt heavy, sweet with the smell of sweat, perfume, and cigar smoke. Despite the volume of the band, Lucifer could hear light, happy chatter, laughter as people enjoyed themselves, having seemingly left all their problems at the door. Perhaps, he thought, he should do the same.

“Come to the back, Sam. Bee’s running the bar tonight.”

Lucifer strained to hear him, but nodded as he turned to follow his friend to the back of the room. It was an easy task as the crowd seemed to part for the big man and Lucifer was quick to match his pace lest the masses converge on him and swallow him whole. Before long they had made it to a long wooden counter. Manning it was a woman, slender and tall with dark eyes that shone with pure mischief and twinkled brightly despite the reduced light of the room. She struck Lucifer as being very beautiful, but he got the feeling her sweet appearance was not to be underestimated.

“Ozzie!” she cried upon seeing her brother emerge from the sea of people. She threw down her towel and ran around to the side of the bar, flinging her arms around his towering frame as she planted a fat kiss on his cheek. Ozzie returned the embrace and for a moment Lucifer stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do with himself as they went about their intimate greeting. 

“Bee, so good to see you as always. We’ve been missing you around the store, you know?”

“I know Oz, it’s just this place keeps me so busy, especially on nights like this. Forgive me, please?” She smiled cheekily, batting her long eyelashes up at her brother. “I’ll come by and help this week, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Ozzie relented before stepping back to reveal his much shorter acquaintance. “Bee, this is Sam. He’s new in town and I figure it’s about time I show him where all the good music is at. Sam, this is my sister, Bee.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Bee. Ozzie has told me a lot about you.”

Lucifer held out his hand, never one to let his nerves and insecurities get in the way of his manners and the instinct to secure a good first impression. Bee regarded him with narrowed eyes and he gulped under the unexpected scrutiny. Her gaze was stony and calculating, like she was stripping him down to his deepest secrets. He was very thankful for the heat in the room as it would provide a logical reason as to why he found himself suddenly sweating up a storm. Finally, Bee’s face broke into a wide grin and she shot a hand out to grab Lucifer’s hand and pull him into a tight hug before also planting a kiss on his cheek.

“We don’t do handshakes around here, kid, not when you’re family at least. My little brother is a good judge of character, so any friend of his is a friend of mine. Welcome to the Palace!”

She let him go and he took in a lungful of air in an attempt to ease his sudden dizziness at having been brushed between arms that were much stronger than they looked. Setting her hands on her hips, she regarded the pair of them happily before crossing back over to the other side of the counter.

“So, what are we drinking tonight, fellas?”

“Two martinis. Dry, please.” Lucifer didn’t miss the way he added the last part quietly, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care. Something told him that he’d want to be at least somewhat sober tonight.

As Bee got to work on their drinks, Ozzie and Lucifer slipped onto some stools that had freed up. Settling in, Lucifer turned to ask his friend a question only to find him already engaged in conversation with the couple to the other side of him. It came as no surprise, really. Ozzie and his family were natives and had spent their entire lives in New Orleans. Ozzie himself was also quite the social butterfly, capable of charming his way into friendly chatter with anyone wherever he went. After all, that was how he had gained Lucifer’s favor, was it not? No matter, Lucifer wasn’t a child who needed his hand held at every given moment. He could keep himself occupied until his friend’s attention was free once more.

He felt a nudge on his elbow and turned his head in time to catch the wink Bee sent his way as she slid a glass over to him. He smiled, nodding as he mouthed a small ‘thank you’ before turning back around to look around the room.

Sipping on his drink, he was grateful to taste something other than straight whisky for once. The tang of the gin paired well with the subtle notes of citrus as he was reminded that alcohol didn’t always have to be a grin-and-bear-it experience. Feeling a little more confident in his own dark, little corner of the bar, he let his eyes roam the rest of the room, setting himself up to the task of people-watching.

In the minutes since they had arrived, more people had entered, the room heating up to the point where he felt it appropriate to slip out of his coat and even let out the first few buttons of his shirt. The band was in full swing, the music so alive it seemed to Lucifer that he could almost hear it breathing and moving. Sharp, quick taps of a drum here, staccato notes pouring from a trumpet here, dancing piano keys there, it was beautiful and so unlike anything that Lucifer had heard before. Jazz, shockingly, was not nearly as popular in Europe as it was in New Orleans, where the city seemed to pulse and thrive with every beat of music running through it. 

He listened for a song, fascinated by how seamlessly the players transitioned into the next, nearly indiscernible song after song after song. Eventually, Lucifer had forgotten all about Ozzie. his drink was long gone and replaced with another. He was pleasantly warm and tingly as a result, but he felt good. He felt alive. Much more than he had in recent weeks.

Six songs into his observation is when he noticed them, the pair of devils dancing below the stage. While other couples filtered on and off of the dancefloor, gave themselves time to recover before jumping into the next song, those two hadn’t left, and hadn't stopped dancing once. Lucifer was impressed, to say the least. He was no stranger to loving a good dance, but even someone as passionate as him could see that these two were on a whole new level.

Although he couldn’t see them well from where he was sitting at the bar, it wasn’t hard to miss how the people around them parted to leave a wide berth of space for their enthusiastic choreography. The man and woman were tall, and every once in a while Lucifer would catch a glimpse of dark hair or tight, blonde curls, catch the glinting of light as it reflected off of their wide smiles, and see the flared fury of a skirt being twirled around its owner. 

He was captivated by them, a fascinated smile creeping onto his face before he could stop it. His foot tapped along to the beat against the footrest on the stool, itching for some dancing of its own. Despite his desires, he reigned in his excitement, satisfied with watching for now instead of partaking. Besides, it was clear that he would in no way be able to compete with the two of them, and aside from that, he had no one to dance with and he wasn’t about to impose on some poor, unsuspecting victim. His grin turned rueful as he shook his head slightly to rid himself of the notion and he turned back around to face the bar.

Bee was busy at the other end and Ozzie was still engrossed in his own conversations, his audience having grown in number since the last time Lucifer had cared to take notice. He glanced at his watch, noting that the time was quickly approaching midnight. Surely he had been here long enough that Ozzie wouldn’t protest to him heading back home, right? The thought of sitting around at the bar while he twiddled his thumbs meaninglessly didn’t seem very appealing, and he wasn’t willing to give the public another reason to think him pathetic. He thought he had caught a glimpse of a back door, perhaps he could just slip out there and avoid the embarrassing display of having to fight his way through the crowd of patrons?

His mind was all but made up, the rest of his drink downed, the glass placed back onto the counter on top of a neatly folded bill, when a voice rang out next to him.

“Bee, dear, can I get a gin and tonic and some rye, please? Thanks, doll!”

Lucifer’s gaze found the owner of the voice just as his lips were forming the last few words. He blinked, suddenly finding one of the devils from the dancefloor standing next to him. He froze, one foot planted awkwardly on the floor while the rest of him hung from the edge of the stool about to drop down. His heart, which had found time to repose and recover in the pleasant ambiance of the club, started racing all over again as he looked over the stranger.

He was, in every sense of the word, lovely. Tall, yes, although much taller up close than he appeared from the other side of the room. Slim but broad-shouldered, skin tanned nicely, which Lucifer appreciated as he gazed at his exposed forearms, the sleeves of his shirt pushed up so as to not get in the way of his dancing, he presumed. The man’s jaw was curved sharply, littered with the barest traces of stubble which he traced up to a strong chin and a pair of thin lips which were tilted into an easy grin. Long fingers plucked a pair of fogged eyeglasses from the bridge of a slightly upturned nose and Lucifer would only follow them as they worked to clean the lenses against the fabric of his dress shirt. He was still staring when those glasses were settled back into their proper place, framing a set of wide, dark eyes that blinked back at him.

Lucifer felt like crying as his face burned with the shame of being caught checking out another man. A married man no less, as his mind finally decided to register the fact that there was a gold band on his left hand. He snapped his gaze away, hoping beyond reason that no damage had been done as he hopped down the rest of the way off the barstool, cursing as he stumbled in his slightly tipsy haste and shot a hand out towards the bar to steady himself. 

I need to get out of here now. Forget Ozzie, he would come up with an excuse to tell him later, but right now he really needed to make a beeline for that backdoor. He pushed himself off of the bar when he was sure he wouldn’t fall over again and didn’t make it one step when that damned voice stopped him.

“Leaving so soon?”

Lucifer didn’t want to turn around. Hell, turning around was the last thing he wanted to do. It was the last thing he should’ve done, but there he was, turning to face the stranger because apparently he listened to noone’s orders, even his own. 

“It’s late,” he replied, seemingly incapable now of complex sentences.

“It is,” the stranger replied, leaning on his elbows against the bar. He dragged a slow, lazy gaze up Lucifer’s figure, taking in every inch of him. Lucifer felt like prey under his gaze, frozen as his instincts battled between the urge to fight or flee. “The name’s Alastor,” he said finally, voice light and charming and friendly enough, which did nothing to explain why Lucifer felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Sam,” he said, reaching a hand out to shake the one offered to him. He hoped its trembling would go unnoticed.

“Sam,” Alastor repeated slowly, as though trying out a foreign word for the first time. “It's a pleasure to be meeting you, Sam.” His grin was stretched languidly over his face, dark eyes hooded and shining with interest, looking at Lucifer like he was something new and exciting and worthy of all his attention. Lucifer gulped, his mouth drier than it had been when he woke up that morning as Alastor brought the hand he was shaking up to his face. He turned his wrist, pressing a chaste kiss to the fair skin of Lucifer’s knuckles, all the while keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the smaller man. “Quite a pleasure.”

Lucifer’s stomach dropped as his chest erupted with the feeling of his heart pattering wildly in its ribbed cage. He snatched his hand back, only vaguely registering how Alastor raised an eyebrow at the reaction.

“I have to leave,” he said, trying to hide the thickness in his voice as a lump formed in his throat. Without so much as a second glance, he turned on his heel and darted past the bar and down the hallway until he reached the backdoor. He didn’t stop running until he reached his front door, which he flung open as he tore at the buttons of his shirt. 

Later that night, a trail of clothing could be followed all the way from the front door to his bedroom. Lucifer was curled on his side, mouth hanging loosely from the rim of a bottle. He always drank to forget, but as he was beginning to realize, there were some things that were beyond running from, and his waking nightmares were haunted by the dark eyes of the devil himself.

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