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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

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talent that runs in the family ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2128

request?: yes!

“Being rooks sister and substitute him while he recovers and slowly start to fall in love with colson”

description: she steps in to replace her brother when he is seriously injured and ends up gaining feelings for his friend

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“Thanks so much for doing this (Y/N),” Rook said over the phone. “I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” I said. “But does Colson know that I’m...y’know...not a seasoned vet?”

“You’ll do fine.”

I refrained from reminding him that he didn’t actually answer my question.

After Rook’s accident left him out of commission for some time, he came to me to ask if I’d fill in for him. I jumped at the opportunity. Rook had taught me how to drum when I was young and, much like my big brother, it became a passion of mine. How could I turn down working with one of the biggest artists of the year, even if it were just for a short while?

Well, my nerves were definitely telling me I should’ve said no as I walked into soundcheck that day.

“Whatever,” I said. “I’ll call you after the soundcheck.”

“Hey, don’t be nervous. You’re gonna do great.”

I said my goodbyes and hung up. I tried not to focus on how big the venue we were playing in was as I made my way to the otherwise empty stage. I thought I was the first person to arrive until I heard someone calling my name.

“(Y/N), up here!”

I looked up to see the guys sat in a booth in the balcony. Colson was all but leaning over the railing, waving for me to join them. I had no idea how to get up there on my own, but luckily a security guard showed me the way.

The guys were eating pizza and drinking from plastic cups as if they were the ones attending the concert and not performing in it.

“Pre-show ritual,” Colson told me. “Especially when we have someone new joining the band. Sit! Have a slice!”

“Shouldn’t we be practicing?” I asked, but still sat with them. I didn’t want to completely mess up my first day.

“We have hours to practice,” one of the other guys I remembered as Slim said. “And we don’t really need to. We do this every night. A soundcheck is basically just to make sure everything is working tech wise.”

I just nodded, not wanting to point out that I hadn’t been doing this every night. I hoped that I’d have some time to figure out the songs before the shows.

Colson nudged me, bringing my attention to him. “Don’t stress. You’ll do great.”

I smiled at him, wishing I’d believe him.

After our small feast of pizza and beer in plastic glasses, we finally got to our soundcheck. I was so nervous that I kept messing up during the first song. My hands were shaking and I kept hitting the wrong drum by accident. My face was burning with embarrassment as I buried it in my hands and groaned.

Colson walked up to me, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed. “I can get this, I know I can.”

“I know you can, too,” he said. “Just take a breath, relax. We’ll try again when you’re ready. And remember, it’s just drumming. Rook says you’re great at it.”

I smiled at him and nodded. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I pictured myself back in my bedroom from my childhood, playing my drums super loud until my parents had to call out for me to keep it down.

When we started practicing again, it went off without a hitch. We did most of the setlist all the way through and did quick takes on the last few songs before our time was up.

I was proud of myself as the soundcheck came to an end. I was still nervous about performing during the actual show, but I felt confident enough in myself not to make too many noticeable mistakes when we actually had an audience that night.

I was walking to my car when I heard someone calling for me. I turned to see Colson running to catch up with me. Or rather he was taking long strides to catch up with me considering he was so tall.

“I told you you would do great!” he said, putting an arm around my shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “It’s like drumming runs in your blood or something.”

I chuckled. “That’s what mom and dad always said too, but neither one of them can keep a beat to save their lives and no one else in our immediate family plays either.”

“You and Rook are the start of a long line of drummers then I guess.”

I shrugged in response. We both stood awkwardly for a moment. I wasn’t sure what else to say. His arm was still around my shoulder and I didn’t want to pull away and make it seem like I didn’t enjoy the contact because I definitely was not complaining about it.

I guess Colson also realized that he was still touching me, though, because he pulled his arm away and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Do you need a run to the hotel or anything?” he asked. “We have the tour bus.”

I shook my head. “I’m good, thanks. I have my car, and besides I haven’t even checked into the hotel yet so I should probably go do that.”

“Oh, yeah you definitely should. Get some rest before the show, too. It’s a lot more physically demanding when it’s an actual show, even if you’re just sitting at a drum set the entire time. I’ll see you tonight then I guess.” He turned to walk away, but paused and turned back to add, “What were you planning on wearing tonight?”

I looked at him, confused. “Uh...this I guess.”

I was wearing a hoodie and a pair baggy jeans and my most comfortable pair of sneakers.

Colson raised an eyebrow at my outfit before looking back up at me. “I mean, it’s definitely comfy, but I would recommend something a little less...well, just less. It’s going to be hot as fuck on that stage, especially with all the lights on you and shit.”

I nodded, taking note of this as I got into my car and internally panicked a little because I didn’t know if I even had anything to wear.

~~~~~~

A few hours later, after checking into my hotel room and promptly wrecking it by throwing my clothes everywhere, I was heading back down to the lobby to meet up with the guys. We were going to the show together, which would’ve been my first tour bus ride. I couldn’t lie, I was super stoked for it.

I was the last one to the lobby. All the guys were stood around, loudly talking to one another. You’d think they were just a normal group of guys and not a group about to play a sold out show in a massive arena.

Colson spotted me first. I smiled at waved at him. His eyes widened and his jaw basically dropped, which prompted all the guys to turn. Their reactions immediately matched his as they looked me up and down.

“Rook would kill you guys if he could see you right now,” I teased.

“Damn (Y/N),” Colson dared to say first. “You look...you look hot as fuck.”

I had decided on a loose muscle shirt with a bralette underneath since the shirt showed a little more than what I was used to, a pair of ripped skinny jeans, and kept on the comfortable sneakers I had been wearing earlier that day.

I giggled. “Thanks, but again, Rook would kill you for saying that. Also, it’s not anything super attractive.”

“You got a nice body,” Baze pointed out. “Anything showing it off even a little is hot.”

I could feel my face burning as I waved their comments away. “Okay, enough with this. We have a show to get to.”

We boarded the tour bus and started towards the arena. The guys were distracted amongst one another again, completely forgetting about me and my “hot outfit”. Besides Colson, who had come to sit next to me on the couch while the rest of the guys were already drinking whatever was in the mini fridge.

“Do you guys always get drunk before your shows?” I asked.

“Not always. Usually we get high,” Colson responded.

“Now that I can get behind. I’ll probably be less afraid if I’m high.”

Colson held out the joint in his hand to me. I took it and took a quick puff, the smoke immediately burning my throat and lungs as I tried to inhale it. Colson laughed as I started to cough.

“I still say you have nothing to worry about,” he told me. “You’re gonna do great tonight. You can’t even really see or hear the audience with all the lights and the inner ear pieces.”

“That’s even worse cause then I’ll just imagine how big the audience is.”

He put a hand on my leg, something I assume was just instinct for him to do to comfort someone, but the minute he made the contact I felt a jolt of electricity run through me. Colson quickly pulled his hand away and I wondered if he had felt that too.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that without asking,” he said.

“You can if you want,” I assured him. “I wasn’t mad about it or anything.”

Colson looked at me and I realized how blue his eyes were. Rook had always made jokes about how Colson could seduce any woman with just his eyes because they were such baby blues, but I didn’t really believe him until the moment I was looking in them myself. Now I was lost, completely forgetting everyone around me as I felt myself moving closer towards him.

The bus jerked to a stop, causing Colson and I to nearly be thrown from our seats. The guys started off the bus first, running towards the entrance to the arena as I could hear the waiting fans screaming outside.

Colson stood and offered a hand to me. “It’s showtime.”

~~~~~~

After the first song went perfectly, I stopped feeling nervous. Colson was right, I couldn’t see the audience in front of me, but I could faintly hear their screams of excitement over my inner ear piece. It was weird to have it in and not only hear all of us playing, but also the crew talking backstage. It was almost distracting, but it became easy to tune them out.

During one of Colson’s talking points in the show, I reached for my water bottle to take a sip. Colson was hyping the audience up, which made me smile a little.

“Before we continue the show,” he said into his mic, “you guys may have noticed that we do not have our regular drummer tonight.”

I immediately knew what he was about to do and I wanted to hurtle my drumstick at him before he went there.

“As you’ve probably heard, Rook was in a bit of an accident and is off recovering for the time being,” he continued. “So, we decided to get some family to fill in for him for the time being. Everyone, I want to hear y’all make some noise for Rook’s little sister, (Y/N)!”

The crowd cheered loudly. Colson turned to me and waved for me to stand. I glared at him, which I hoped he could see, before standing and awkwardly smiling and waving at the audience.

“All the cool drum shit you guys have been hearing all night has been (Y/N),” Colson said as he started to approach me. “She’s a bad ass fucking drummer, and she’s a pretty fucking cool chick, too.”

I was confused where he was going with this as he came to stand next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulder the way he had earlier that day after soundcheck.

“Which is why, (Y/N), I gotta ask: will you go on a date with me sometime?”

Slight embarrassment was swelling somewhere inside of me at being asked out in such a public way, but that embarrassment was overshadowed by the fuzzy feeling of excitement inside of me. I looked up at Colson, my eyes wide and a smile on my lips.

He lowered the mic so he could privately add, “I’m being serious. I wanna take you out on a real date. Just the two of us.”

My words were stuck in my throat, but I was able to nod in response. The smile on Colson’s face stretched so wide that I could’ve been convinced he was the one lighting the show.

“Okay,” he said, then lifted the mic to say to his audience, “Let’s get back to the show guys!”

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #mgk #imagine #request #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years

Text

dreaming in reality, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: The wrong guy shows up in your car – Jeon Jungkook. Again. He’s less drunk this time, but no less weird. Then the right guy shows up. Min Yoongi. You know, the guy you fucked in Jungkook’s bed that one time. Guess he can convince you to do anything. Like, say, take Jungkook’s virginity. Don’t worry, he’ll help.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, tiny bit of crack; alcohol consumption; violence? someone gets slapped lol; technically Jungkook’s first time; smut (fem reader, threesome, slightly degrading dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, f-receiving oral, penetrative sex, partial handjob); non-idol!AU - friends with benefits / lovers? with Yoongi; Yoongi is a very bad boy and he knows it; JK is blond and wearing his ‘ON’ and ‘Dynamite’ GDA 2021 outfits (except w/o the white blazer)

a–dick–ted au yes that’s what I’ve decided to call this this was supposed to be just more Yoongi smut but then Jungkook decided he’d like this to be about him, what can you do?

"Can you pick me up tonight?"

"Mhm. What are you wearing?"

A deep chuckle. "Eager to undress me?"

"I'm doing you a favor. There's no guarantee you'll get more than that."

"Hmmm." That low raspy voice did not believe you. "White dress shirt, black jeans. Can't miss me."

He hung up.

White shirt, black jeans. You remembered to lock your car doors this time, so you turned around to press the button so he could get in. The door opened and the young man slid inside, reeking of alcohol. Wait. Some kind of belt harness around a thin waist. Ashy blond hair. Hand tattoos. Thick thighs. Chiseled jaw.

Fuck!

Again?

"I need to talk to you, noona."

"Get out."

Jeon Jungkook was not as drunk as before. He was definitely drunk, but not piss drunk like last time. His eyes were unfocused and he was nervously biting his pink lower lip. The mole underneath bounced up and down as he chewed it mercilessly. He swallowed and undid the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing his tan, muscular pecs. Oh, thank the Lord, Jungkook remembered to wear a shirt underneath, although it was a very low-cut white t-shirt. He kept running his hand through his currently blond hair tensely, revealing the shadow root. Well, it was well done at least. He had a good hairstylist. You hadn't realized Jungkook changed it, so he must have done it recently.

Probably to get attention and remind every human being that he was hot.

Blergh.

You still weren't convinced he wasn't a dirty little fuckboy.

"Why are you sitting in my car showing off your nervous ticks?" you said irritably.

"I gotta ask you something."

His black boots were a little dirty from the party. Outside, the drunks were as loud as ever, with the same seven girls on the porch craning their heads to gawk at Jungkook in your car. Different house, same scene, and drunk Jeon Jungkook sitting in your passenger's seat, once again being the wrong guy sauntering into your car.

Where the fuck was the correct guy?

"Look, psycho, fucking spit it out or yeet. I'm not repeating what happened last time."

Jungkook's dark brown eyes flickered to you, turning his body to face yours. Running his tattooed right hand through his bleached hair over and over, spreading the golden strands, the ashy tone catching the low light of the lampposts. Jaw flexed, tiny pink tongue darting out and licking his lips. He was a little sweaty, cheeks hollowed in a little with how hard he was breathing.

You raised an eyebrow.

"You have ten seconds before I kick you out and believe me when I say I have leg strength."

"Are you and Yoongi-hyung dating?" Jungkook asked suddenly.

What?

"What?"

You made a face at him.

He sucked in a breath, brows furrowing at your response. “Because I could have sworn…”

Your mind flickered back to that faithful night. Shit. You shouldn’t have let Min Yoongi convince you to sleep right there in Jungkook’s apartment. You remembered his wicked smirk, his deep, raspy voice in your ear, Jungkook’s not going to know and don’t you want to do bad things with me? Don’t you want to be bad with me? He could make you do anything at this point. You two fell asleep on Jungkook’s bed. Next to hungover Jungkook.

Naked.

You mentally slapped yourself.

“What made you come to that conclusion?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes.

Jungkook tilted his head, sucking in his cheek. It made a sharp sound and his tongue flashed against his white teeth for a split second. You almost flinched. He pursed his lips and kept his gaze on you. You were wearing a tight white high-necked crop top, oversized black hoodie, and high-waisted black shorts. Dark pink and violent violet chunky sneakers. Almost no makeup. Hair tied back into low pigtails with one pink and one purple scrunchie to match your sneakers.

Oh shit. The hoodie wasn’t yours.

Hopefully Jungkook wasn’t perceptive enough to figure that out.

“Noona.”

He said it strangely, breathlessly. Almost sexually. You recoiled a little. Jungkook was leaning forward, giving you a clear view down his shirt, blond hair falling into his face, covering one eye. His alcoholic breath floating towards you, far too close for your liking.

“I…” Jungkook swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I want… to…”

The door to your passenger’s seat was roughly yanked open.

Jungkook jumped, throwing his back into the seat, brown eyes wide and staring at the newcomer. White dress shirt, two sizes too big, with ties at the wrists to cinch in the bishop-style sleeves. Black jeans, distressed with several mismatched patches. Silver chains on his black leather belt and around his pale neck. Black hair, pointed dark eyes like a cat.

A single, cocked eyebrow.

“Let me guess,” drawled Min Yoongi, the correct guy you were supposed to be picking up, looking from you to Jeon Jungkook, who was impossibly flat against the car seat. Yoongi sounded amused. “He just waltzed in.”

You narrowed your eyes. “No, I locked my doors this time.”

Yoongi’s gaze flickered to Jungkook, who still seemed mildly terrified, and then back to you. The glint in his dark brown eyes was far from innocent. His fair cheeks were a little pink.

“Ah, so you wanted Jungkook in your car?” There was an edge to his voice, almost dangerous, but to you it was Yoongi’s usual teasing. Jungkook looked like he was preparing for his own death. Both of you ignored him for the moment.

“You said white dress shirt and black jeans,” you scowled. You gestured Jungkook up and down. “Hello?”

Jungkook’s thighs tensed and bulged against his tight jeans. Eyes still as wide as saucers. He hadn’t blinked in a good thirty seconds.

“We have the same excellent taste and style. How fortunate for you,” Yoongi purred. Then he finally patted Jungkook’s thigh, making him start and let out a panicked squeak. “You want noona to drop you off, Jungkookie? She’d be happy to.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” you gritted out.

“Yes, she would,” Yoongi said cheerfully. He slammed the front car door and opened the backseat. You rolled your eyes and stared straight ahead. Even from here you could smell the whiskey. Yoongi hummed and you snuck a glance at him through the rearview mirror.

He looked positively beside himself with glee.

Hmph. Fine.

His loss.

“You bleached your hair, Jungkook?” Yoongi said absentmindedly as you started up the car.

Jungkook ran a hand through it once again. “Uh, yeah. What do you think, hyung?”

“Hm, looks good. Too much upkeep for me, personally. Seatbelt.”

Jungkook hastily went to grab his seatbelt and put it on. Too bad. You were ready to brake hard and send him flying out the windshield. Just kidding. Maybe. Well, you would have to be going real fucking fast for that to happen. Maybe over ninety or some shit. You pulled out of the neighborhood of houses, already knowing what direction to go in to the correct apartment complex. Yoongi and Jungkook lived in the same building.

So convenient.

You thinned your lips into a line, ignoring their conversation, until Yoongi snapped his fingers and called your name to get your attention. You glared at him through the rearview mirror. Yoongi’s legs were wide open, flopped in your backseat. He grinned at you and placed his hands on the inside of his jean-covered thighs.

Fucking tease.

“What?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to dye your hair at some point?”

You shrugged. “Yeah.”

Jungkook sat up, looking at you. You didn’t look at him. “Oh? You’re going blond too?”

You snorted. “I said I wanted to dye my hair, which means a color.”

“What color?” Yoongi asked lazily.

Your eyes flickered to him in the rearview mirror again. He flexed his long fingers and pressed them against his jeans. You tucked your tongue in your cheek. Yoongi was aware Jungkook couldn’t see him and he was also aware you were watching him. Your eyes went back to the road.

Yoongi was also aware that because of Jungkook’s presence, neither of you were getting any tonight, so he resorted to teasing you like the bad boy he was.

“I dunno. Pick one for me,” you said impassively.

Yoongi chuckled, a deep, husky sound, revealing his pink gums and straight white teeth.

“Red.”

“N-noona?”

You curled your lip, looking around you. Ugh. You hated parties like this. So loud, so annoying, so many idiots. You didn’t understand why Yoongi came to these things. It was probably because of his lively friends. Being social like this was probably a great thing, but this was not your scene.

“No time to chat, Jungkook. Have you seen Yoongi?”

Jungkook was flapping his gums at you. He was still blond. He must be keeping up with his hair care because it still looked soft and ashy. It was swept to one side this night. Powder blue dress shirt, tight against his muscular pecs and white slacks that seemed to be choking his thighs. Brave man, wearing white around this much alcohol and lunacy.

You had to admit, Jeon Jungkook had guts looking like a prince to a peasant’s party.

“Where is he?” you muttered. “Kim Seokjin called and told me to get him because he was asleep.”

“U-uh…” Jungkook looked around as you stepped into the party house, your heavy black boots thudding against the hardwood floor. Short black skirt with silver chains and a black hoodie that said ‘WHATCHU MEAN?’ in neon lime green across your chest. Phone and keys in your hoodie pocket. Other than that, you weren’t wearing anything as of note. Oh.

Except.

Your usual ‘fuck off’ mentality.

“I haven’t s-seen him in the past hour,” Jungkook stammered.

“Fat lot of help you are.” You clicked your tongue and moved past him.

“You dyed your hair,” Jungkook blurted suddenly.

You turned your head and looked back at him. “Yeah, so?”

Your hair was now a gradient from a long black shadow root, to dark purple berry, to bright neon red. It was half-tied up with a black scrunchie, a few strands hanging around your face. Jungkook kept staring at it. You raised an eyebrow and turned away from him. Eh, you had no time for this. You needed to grab Yoongi and get the fuck out of here.

“I-I’ll look you help.”

You raised your eyebrows as Jungkook squeezed past you, his hard back pressing against your arm.

“You can’t even speak, you drunkard,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I mean, I’ll help y-you look, noona,” Jungkook corrected himself, licking his lips nervously, running his right hand through his hair.

He’s hopeless.

Well, better than going alone.

Wordlessly, you followed him throughout the party, opening doors and craning your head over the bodies. So many topless people. Ugh, it was pretty late. By the time you two reached the back of the house, you never wanted to see another nipple ever again. You saw Kim Seokjin at the karaoke machine, blasting eardrums with what you assumed were supposed to be high notes, but, in reality, was simply screaming.

You didn’t even want to walk up to him to ask.

“He might be upstairs,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard.

“Lead the way,” you sighed, annoyed this was taking longer than it needed to.

You made your way up the stairs, pressing yourself against the railing to avoid touching people. Kept your hands in your kangaroo pocket and a scowl on your face. Jungkook suddenly stopped and you collided into him. Fuck. Why did he feel like he was made out of rocks? Stupid muscles.

“Hold on.”

Some guy was sprawled all over the middle of the hallway, unconscious.

“I’ll just step over him.”

Jungkook growled. “No. What if he wakes up and looks up your skirt?” He bent over and picked him up, propping him against the wall. You raised an eyebrow. Like anyone cared what was up your skirt besides Min Yoongi. Whatever. If he wanted to play the part of noble prince, you weren’t going stop him. You waited as Jungkook pushed the guy’s chin down to his chest and motioned you to the hall, towards the many doors. Probably mostly bedrooms. You winced. Probably going to see more nipples. And dicks. And pussy.

Sigh.

And, yep, you were right.

Jungkook tried to shield your eyes, but to be honest, he looked way more scarred than you. You merely shook your head and moved on, door to door. Opened one and saw a girl in a tight black dress crawling on a bed, over a guy in a black biker jacket and acid wash jeans. The hole in the knee was so big you could see half of his pale leg. Hmph. Why bother even wearing pants?

You were about to close the door when you paused. Wait. You’ve seen that black mop of hair before. The girl was kissing down his neck, yanking down the white t-shirt and ripping it. You recognized the grunt of sleepy annoyance.

“Get off him.”

The girl shot up; red lipstick smeared from making out with his neck. You stepped inside and jerked your head towards the door. Voice cold and unrelenting.

“Out.”

She furrowed her brows at you. “Who the fuck are you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Dude’s asleep. You shouldn’t take advantage of someone who’s asleep.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” she shot back defiantly.

You snorted inelegantly. “No, he’s not. Don’t be stupid.”

The girl shoved herself off the bed, advancing on you, nasty snarl on her lips. “How would you know? Who do you think you are?”

“Not an idiot,” you barked sharply, completely forgetting Jungkook was behind you, gawking at this entire exchange. You looked her up and down and took a step towards her, the aggravation of the past hour reaching breaking point. All that time spent getting here, not being able to find Yoongi, and then discovering some bitch crawling all over him was pissing you off. Like everyone else, alcohol clung to her like the plague. She was furious, ready to catfight you, although you were pretty sure you were going to win this one because you were sober and your boots were a lot more stable than her tall heels.

“Look here, bitch, leave me and my boyfriend alo–”

You slapped her.

Hard.

Not holding back, not making a sound, just straight up slapped her across the face. The sound was so loud it could be heard over the bass of the music. She nearly crumpled at the force, gasping and choking at air as she stumbled, eyes wide in disbelief, slim hand cradling her face.

“He’s not your boyfriend,” you growled. Your voice was absolute zero with how cold it was. “He will never be your boyfriend. Now get the fuck out of my face before I rearrange yours into the next century.”

She squeaked at you.

Your eyes narrowed and you raised your hand again. She bolted, stumbling on her heels, seeing Jungkook staring, opening her mouth to say something, but you made an inhuman, grating noise deep in your throat. Her shaking eyes connected with yours and you cocked your head in the direction of the door, popping your neck loudly.

She scrambled out of there like her life depended on it.

It did, because you had enough at this point.

“Dumb bitch,” you spat, before releasing the tension from your shoulders. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jungkook��s mouth wide open, deer-in-headlights look on his face. “What?”

“W… Why do you look so hot when you’re angry?”

You scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

“Fuck, you are damn hot when you’re angry.”

Deep, raspy voice that made your spine tingle. You turned your head to see Min Yoongi on his elbows, licking his pink lips. He was definitely drunker this time, cheeks flushed. His fair skin on his neck and cheeks were covered in red lipstick marks. You clicked your tongue at him.

“When did you wake up?”

Yoongi smirked.

You frowned.

“Maybe when you slapped her.” His dark eyes glittered in the low light of the bedroom, lips curving higher and revealing his teeth. “Maybe when you got her attention.” Full-on, open-mouthed smirk now, devilish and wicked. “Maybe when you opened the door.”

A muscle in your forehead twitched. You strode over, looking down. Yoongi slowly lifted his head, pink tongue sliding out and tracing his teeth, cocking an eyebrow. You clenched your jaw.

“I like your hair,” Yoongi purred softly. “You took my advice.”

“I didn’t care what color it was,” you responded evenly. “I left the hairstylist do what she wanted.”

Yoongi arched an eyebrow. “She made your hair match your body. Hot and sexy.”

You matched his raised brow. “You saying my hair wasn’t attractive before?”

Crafty dark brown eyes on yours, intoxicating you like whiskey.

“It always needed me to mess it up before it was truly as sexy as you.”

“Are you guys sure you’re not dating?”

Oh right.

Jungkook was still here.

You turned your head to face him. You hadn’t even noticed that he had walked all the way up to the bed, standing next to you. The door was closed. Who closed it? It was also locked. Your brows furrowed and your eyes flickered back to Jungkook. He was watching you, blond hair covering one chocolate orb, pink lips wet and slightly parted. Tan skin radiant in the low light.

“What are you still doing here?”

His visible eye shifted down your body, pausing at your legs and then shifting to Yoongi. Yoongi gave him a neutral expression. The eyes shifted back to you.

“I was going to help you carry him if hyung was still asleep.” His voice had dropped several octaves.

“Well, he’s obviously awake,” you said dismissively.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, more blond hair sliding down, shadowing his face.

“You want me to leave so you can fuck him? Or so he can fuck you?” Jungkook accused.

You raised your eyebrows.

“I told you he liked you.”

You exhaled, shifting your gaze to Yoongi. He was wiping the lipstick off his neck with the collar of his ruined shirt. He looked displeased, nose scrunching as he did so.

“Wanting me to desire him is not the same as liking someone.” You swung your head back to Jungkook, ticking your chin at him. “Isn’t that so, Jungkook?”

There was a moment of silence.

If silence could be bass-boosted music, screaming downstairs, and a bottle smashing somewhere nearby. But in this random bedroom, it was as if time stopped, you staring at Jungkook, Yoongi looking up to witness what was about to unfold, and your slow realization that Jungkook was not answering fast enough.

The younger man shook his blond bushel of hair very, very slowly.

“No, noona.”

His other eye was revealed, both of them trained on you.

“I want you to take my virginity.”

Silence.

He must be joking.

“And there it is, out in the open,” Yoongi mused.

Jungkook continued, hands in his pockets, chest sticking out from under the tight blue dress shirt.

“Hyung knows this. I told him.”

You let out a soft breath. “You know, Jungkook, you could get any bitch in this house.”

“Don’t want a bitch,” Jungkook retorted, dangerous edge to his voice, slipping into his Busan satoori. “Want you, noona.”

He was way too serious to not mean it. You tucked your hands into your hoodie pocket and flicked your head to remove red strands from your face.

"Kinda out of left field, kid," you muttered.

You heard Yoongi sit up on the bed and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He shook his shoulders out and hooked his legs over the edge of the bed, sandwiching one of your thighs between his own. His shirt hung down, ruined and covered with red lipstick from where he tried to wipe it off his neck and cheeks. His neck was pink with irritation.

"Not really," Yoongi chuckled. "He's been eyeing you for a while now. You never noticed because you're too busy being crabby."

He wasn't touching you with his hands and insulting your character instead.

"Speak for yourself, grump."

Yoongi squeezed your thigh with his and you involuntarily shuddered at the slight skin on skin contact due to the giant hole in his pants. Shit. Yoongi snickered.

"Are you guys dating?" Jungkook snapped irritably.

"No."

Both Yoongi and you said it at the same time, glaring at each other. Jungkook might as well have been a lamp. You stared deep into those mischievous brown orbs, black hair messy and covering his brows, teasing smile on his lips. Dating wasn’t the word for it. You weren’t sure there was a word for what Yoongi and you were doing. You could tell he didn’t know either.

It wasn’t dating, that’s for sure.

"Did you guys fuck on my bed or not?"

Before you could respond, Yoongi broke your gaze and looked straight at Jungkook. Jungkook's jaw was clenched tight, dark eyes flashing. Yoongi's voice was slipping into his Daegu satoori as well, deepening and slightly slurred from whiskey.

"We did."

You clicked your tongue.

Great. Just great.

"Ate her out and fucked her hard, all over your sheets. Right next to you. She even touched you."

"An accident," you hissed.

Yoongi ignored you. "Her hand slid up your abs and chest." He chuckled. "It was sexy. You have a nice body, Jungkookie."

"Stop telling him this shit." You raised your hand to smack Yoongi in the arm but he whipped his head back to you, grabbing your wrist out of the air. You stiffened at the touch. He turned your palm to face Jungkook and directed his attention back to him.

"This hand, in fact."

Were you surprised? No. That was the game. Push the limits, up the ante. You just didn’t think Yoongi would tell Jungkook something like that. Maybe he wouldn’t if he was fully sober. But Yoongi wouldn’t regret it either. He would roll with the wave, as usual.

You were a little irked that you weren’t the one who took the plunge first.

You finally snuck a glance at Jungkook. His jaw was no longer tense and his cheeks were flushed pink. He raised his head to look at you, blond locks swinging, and you looked away. Fucking Yoongi. Always trying to cause trouble. But that's why you kept fucking him. Because he was always finding ways to make your life interesting.

Maybe you were addicted to the adrenaline he gave you.

Maybe you were just addicted to Yoongi.

You sensed movement. You tried to pull your wrist out of Yoongi's grasp but he held it tightly. You finally looked back to glare at him, only to be greeted by the sight of Jungkook's blue shirt mostly unbuttoned, his sculpted abs and chest fully on display. Your eyes widened, taking a step back, realizing how close he was. Yoongi yanked you back, grin on his lips.

A beat passed.

Your gaze locked with his.

Don't you dare, Min Yoongi.

He planted your hand on Jungkook's torso.

You tried to twist away, but Yoongi held you there, pressing your palm into Jungkook's hard muscles. The younger man sucked in a breath, surveying you through his lashes. A strange shiver traveled from your hand to your spine, pooling down to your core, setting it aflame. Yoongi slid your hand up to Jungkook's pecs. You could feel how hot and heavy Jungkook's breathing was on the back of your hand. His heartbeat raced under your fingers.

You gulped.

"Yoongi." Your eyes were on Jungkook and his blown-out pupils, blond bangs all over his forehead. Your pulse roared in your ears. "You said he was sappy. That it had to be the love of his life."

Yoongi chuckled.

"Noona," Jungkook replied for him in his husky voice. "I’ve been planning for it to be you."

Your eyes flickered back to Yoongi. His other arm slid around your legs, pulling you to him. He made you breathless, looking down into those devilish eyes, pink lips parting a little. You could feel his hand on your thigh, stroking your skin, making you tremble with his touch.

"He asked you to take it," Yoongi purred softly.

You inhaled deeply. Whiskey. Leather. Yoongi. Your hand was still on Jungkook's chest. You dug your nails into his skin a little. Jungkook moaned, breathy and deep.

"I'm not taking anything," you whispered.

Yoongi's hand released your wrist and slid up the back of your hand, each of his long fingers sliding between yours, pressing your joined touch into Jungkook’s chest. Fingers spread over his skin, his breathing vibrating though your palm. All Jungkook had to do was take a step back.

Why wasn't he taking a step back?

Yoongi squeezed your fingers with his. You could feel the heat building inside you. Desire. His voice became smokey. Lustful. Purring your name softly.

He could make you do anything when his voice became like that.

"I'm telling you to take it."

Your mouth went dry.

"Why?"

Yoongi leaned forward, resting his chin right between your covered breasts. So close. Your heartbeat fluttered. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him so very much. You wanted to kiss that naughty mouth, the mouth suggesting sinful and treacherous ideas. Whenever you were with Yoongi, danger always seemed like a good thing.

"Because you feel good when you do bad things."

God, Min Yoongi was a bad boy.

"And I love watching you do bad things."

Dark orbs glittering with trouble.

"I’m here with you."

I’m here with you.

His arm around your legs tightened. Your panties were absolutely soaked. Yoongi had you right where he wanted you. He knew it too, even as you pursed your lips. Yoongi finally looked away from you.

"You don't mind that, right, Jungkookie?"

Jungkook shook his head quickly. "No, hyung. Whatever..." He paused, knowing what he was about to say was wrong. His eyes flickered to you. You didn’t look at him. You just stared at the black pile of hair that was Min Yoongi.

Wondering what was going on in that head of his.

"Whatever it takes."

Yoongi removed his hand from Jungkook’s chest. You pulled yours back quickly, still not looking at Jungkook. Yoongi placed his large hands on your hips. Raised his head. Fuck. Trapping you in his devious eyes. He mouthed words at you. So sexy. So fuckable. You mouthed words back. You’re bad. Yoongi grinned, licking his teeth.

“Stand in front of us, Jungkook.”

And Yoongi spun you around to face him, pushing you into his arms. Jungkook’s hands gripped your upper arms, holding you in place. And, for once, Jungkook wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t stumbling into your car by mistake, he wasn’t reeking of alcohol and nervous ticks. If anything.

Jungkook smelled good.

You were staring into his tan chest. Slowly, you looked up. Up his pecs, up his prominent collarbones, up his shapely neck. You could smell the cologne, fresh like clean laundry mixed with the sharpness of the sea. Your eyes continued up, up his sharp jaw, up to the tiny mole under his lower lip, up to his high cheekbones, up into those chocolate orbs. His blond hair hovered over his eyes, shrouding them with gold. Jungkook sucked in a breath as you made eye contact. You cocked an eyebrow.

“I still don’t see why it has to be me.”

Jungkook licked his lips, leaning in.

“Has to be you, noona,” he whispered, breath hot against your lips.

For some reason your heart was beating fast now. Was it Yoongi’s hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing them? Or was it Jeon Jungkook, pupils dilated and grip tight on your arms, nearly shirtless in front of you?

“I dream about you,” Jungkook breathed. “All the time. The only woman I’ve ever dreamed about touching me, teasing me, feeling all of me.” He frowned a little, tilting his head. “I had sex dreams before, but none of them felt real. None of them were like the ones I had with you. The ones with you were always extremely detailed. It was like all the things you did were really happening. I could finish with them.”

You didn’t have to guess what that meant.

“I could feel everything.”

Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours, ash blond strands mixing with dark red.

“Your nails digging into my skin, you moaning above me.”

His eyes burned with determination. Yoongi’s hands slid up your legs, fingertips sliding under your soaking panties. You were so distracted by Jungkook’s words that you barely felt it. But your body remembered. Your body remembered that orgasm right above Jungkook, Yoongi’s tongue inside you, your hand on his abs, nails curling into them as you came. Jungkook’s voice was so low that it felt as if your heartbeat was resonating with it.

“Make my dreams real.”

Yoongi circled your clit with his index finger, not touching it, making you gasp.

“Taint me, noona,” Jungkook murmured.

You pressed your lips against his and Yoongi pressed his finger against your clit. You whimpered into Jungkook’s mouth, hand slipping inside his shirt to hold his waist, kissing him deeper. Jungkook’s hand came up to cup your face, holding you close as you moaned, feeling Yoongi stroke your sensitive bundle of nerves slowly, working you up. His other hand was holding your ass, squeezing it hard. In comparison, Jungkook’s lips were soft, tongue hesitantly sliding into your lips. You latched around it, sucking on it roughly. Jungkook squeaked, trying to pull away, but you held on, tugging as you bobbed your head back and forth, eyes cracking open as you moaned deep in your throat.

Jungkook was staring at you, fascinated.

You released his tongue and snaked yours into his mouth. Pushing it in, sliding it back out, steadily and deliberately. Jungkook’s eyelashes fluttered, pressing his body into yours, needy cries in his chest, trying to get more. Pleasure spread throughout your hips, spurred upward by Yoongi’s touch. You felt heady and tense, increasing the force you were using to fuck Jungkook’s mouth, breathing in shallow gasps, closing your eyes again, so close, so close. So wrong, making out with Jungkook as Yoongi stimulated your clit to orgasm.

So wrong, but so, so fucking good.

You sucked your tongue back and moaned directly into Jungkook’s mouth as you came, legs shaking, clit throbbing against Yoongi’s fingers as your panties soaked even more, the scent of sex suddenly prominent in this random bedroom. Jungkook gasped, body shuddering and shaking at your exhale, roughly shoving you into his hard chest. Your crotch hit his and you could feel his erection through his tight pants.

The party kept thriving, bass booming the walls, blind to the events about to unfold.

Jungkook drew back, panting. You felt Yoongi withdraw his hand, heard him lick it off. But you were staring at Jungkook, at his swollen lips, at his blue shirt half-pulled off from your touch, revealing his right shoulder covered in black tattoos, blond hair covering half his face.

Beautiful and dangerous, like an angelic incubus.

You felt Yoongi’s hands on your hips again, unzipping your skirt. Slipping it down. Your body reacted, kicking it away. Jungkook’s eyes were fixated on your black panties, pushed to one side from Yoongi’s touch, soaked with your juices.

“Take off your shirt, Jungkook,” Yoongi said as he reached down to unzip your boots.

Jungkook yanked his shirt out of his pants and tossed it aside, watching Yoongi slowly strip you. Taking your boots and setting them next to the bed, gripping your hoodie and yanking it over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, but he dumped it next to him, showing you the phone and keys were still in the center pocket. You frowned at him, but Yoongi shrugged, unhooking your black bra. You held onto it, covering yourself. Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“Let him see the tits.”

You clicked your tongue. Then you turned back to face Jungkook, challenging him.

“Jungkook can come and see for himself.”

Jungkook swallowed, taking a step towards you. Chewing on his lip, eyes fixated on your hands holding up your bra. You felt Yoongi’s fingers hook around the sides of your panties. Jungkook stopped right in front of you. Reached forward and gripped one of the bra cups. You held tight, not letting go. Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he yanked at it, pulling it out of your grasp.

You lowered your hands.

“Fuck…” Jungkook breathed. “They’re prettier than I thought.” His hand raised, but then he stopped, looking at you hesitantly. “Can I… touch them?”

You arched a brow. “Never touched tits before?”

“I want to ask you,” Jungkook replied softly. “I want to know you want it too.”

Chocolate eyes framed in gold, enchanting you.

You reached up and took his wrist, guiding his hand to your chest. You were breathing hard, making them bounce a little. Pressed his palm into your hard nipple, shivering at the different hand, the different feeling. You felt Yoongi slide your panties down, down. You slid Jungkook’s hand down, wrapping his fingers around your nipple. He gasped, rolling the nub between his fingers, watching your face as you moaned, Yoongi’s fingers crawling between your legs once again.

You pointed to your other nipple.

“Mouth, here.” Stared into Jungkook’s ravenous eyes. “Please.”

Jungkook bent down and licked your nipple, coating it with saliva. Your hand slid up the back of his head, tangling in the soft blond locks, pulling him closer.

“More, Jungkook…”

He whimpered your name, pinching your nipple as you said his. You gasped softly as his lips closed around your nipple, sucking lightly, tongue pressed against the tip and moving it around, rubbing the other at the same time. You sank your teeth into your lower lip as you felt Yoongi slide two fingers into you, so easy because he had made you cum beforehand, fucking you as Jungkook made out with your tits. You stared down Jungkook’s muscular back, admiring the way his muscles rippled as he moved. Your hips bucked in Yoongi’s hand, leaning forward so he could finger you deeper, shoving your nipple into Jungkook’s mouth. He sucked hard, nipping lightly, and you threw your head back, pleasure flowing all over. Jungkook switched sides and hands, rubbing your wet nipple with his thumb as he teased the other, flicking the hardened nub with his tongue. Rougher, matching Yoongi’s pace in your pussy, shoving his fingers so far into your pussy that you felt his knuckles.

Yoongi against your back, purring your name.

“Cum for me,” he murmured, low and raspy. “Cum all over my hand as Jungkook abuses your nipples.”

Fuck, his satoori, his words.

Yoongi had you wrapped around his fingers in all senses.

“Mm, fuck, fuck…”

You moaned loudly as you came, legs shuddering, rutting your breasts into Jungkook’s face as your hand pressed him into your tits, grinding your hips into Yoongi’s hand as your pussy clenched around his fingers, drenching them with your orgasm once again. Jungkook moaned into your chest, burying his nose into your tits, tongue pressed against your skin.

“Ah, fuck, you taste so good, noona…”

Yoongi chuckled, slowly pulling his fingers out of you.

“You haven’t tasted anything, Jungkook.”

And then Yoongi fell back against the bed, taking you with him. You had to release Jungkook’s head, whining at the loss of his warmth. Yoongi dipped his knees down and shoved them between your thighs, spreading them wide. He slid you down his body, forcing you to expose your wet pussy to Jungkook’s wide, voracious eyes.

“Have a taste.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered to you. At this point, it was doomed. You wanted Jungkook’s tongue and your needed it now. Your voice was grating, tainted with lust.

“Get on your knees and taste me, Jungkook,” you growled.

Jungkook obeyed immediately, kneeling before you and crawling up to your thighs, extending his pink tongue, nearly drooling. Chocolate eyes watching your face.

Yoongi shoved his wet fingers into your lips.

You grunted in protest, but then Jungkook’s tongue touched your wet slit, lapping greedily as he watched Yoongi’s fingers slide in and out of your mouth. You moaned around them, licking off your taste as Jungkook moaned into your pussy, coating his tongue with your sweet, thick juices.

“O-oh, fuck, hyung, noona…” he panted hotly into your core. “Tastes so fucking good.”

“Told you,” Yoongi chuckled triumphantly, slowly fucking your mouth.

“Wanna be in here so bad, hyung…”

You make a gargled noise around his fingers and he pulled them out, humming in his chest so your head vibrated with the sound.

“I’m not taking him raw,” you gasped out as Jungkook’s tongue swiped over your clit. Your breathing hitched as he lapped at it experimentally and he continued after witnessing your reaction. Your hand slid down and gripped Yoongi’s wrist, moan torn out of you as Jungkook’s licking intensified. Almost too much, forcing you to tighten your core, juices leaking out of your slit and onto his chin.

“Don’t worry. I came prepared.”

Your jaw tightened as you neared orgasm. Of course, Yoongi came prepared.

“You planned this.”

“Did I?”

Far too amused and teasing to be innocent. Your back arched as Jungkook increased the suction, your head tipped back against Yoongi’s chest, barely being able to see him upside down, mouth open as you panted. Yoongi smirked at you.

“Or did I simply assist little Jungkookie in convincing noona to take his virginity?”

His words and your orgasm hit you like a truck, hands flying up to grip Yoongi’s shoulders as you nearly screamed Jungkook’s name, thighs threatening to clamp his head if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s strong legs spreading them out. Your body fell limp onto Yoongi’s chest, flooding Jungkook’s mouth with your orgasm. Jungkook groaned, drinking it up, hands coming up to hold your hips down as he sucked it out of you.

“Not all of it, Jungkook,” Yoongi warned. “Keep her wet for you.”

Jungkook whined, drawing back, lips shiny and glossy with your cum. His pink tongue snaked out, swiped over his lips, scooping it all into his mouth, the action obscene and arousing all at once.

“Fuck, noona’s pussy tastes so good…”

Yoongi lifted your limp body and dragged you up the bed, placing his head on the pillows and positioning you on top of him. You scoffed, back and ass pressed against Yoongi’s still fully clothed body.

“You want him to fuck me on top of you?”

“Of course,” Yoongi answered smugly. “I can help him get into position and he can get back at me for fucking you on top of him.”

“You didn–”

Yoongi pinched your nipples, cutting you off as he flicked the sensitive nubs, turning you into a moaning mess in seconds. Your legs tried to close, but once again Yoongi hooked his around yours and spread them out for Jungkook, who was stripping off his pants. Your eyes widened seeing Jungkook’s cock straining against his boxer briefs. Yoongi had a great dick. The best dick. But Jungkook had never been in a woman before and he was impossibly hard because of it, gasping as he pushed his underwear down, leaking pre-cum everywhere. Either that or he really was very, very turned on by you.

For the first time throughout this entire night, it really hit you that Jungkook actually liked you. That he was not a fuckboy and he genuinely wanted you to take his virginity, so much so that, somehow, he convinced Yoongi, your partner-in-crime, your other half in this long-winded sexual escapade of pushing each other closer and closer to the edge, until one of you fell.

Yoongi clasped his hands around your upper arms, sucking in an excited breath.

Your breathing caught in your throat.

Or maybe.

Maybe both of you had already fallen.

And both of you were twisted enough to be ridiculously turned on by Jungkook crawling onto the bed, eyes glazed with desire, desperate to fuck you. Yoongi tapped your arm and pressed a condom into your palm.

“Put it on him.”

You motioned Jungkook forward and he scooted up, sucking in his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath quivered as you ripped open the condom, reaching awkwardly to roll it down his thick cock. You inhaled sharply, feeling his warmth against your fingers. Your eyes flickered up to him and he swallowed, chest rattling nervously.

“H… How do I…?”

“Hands on the bed,” Yoongi said behind you. Jungkook placed his hands on the bed, on either side of Yoongi’s arms, next to your head. He stared into your eyes. You placed your hands on his hips and scooted him down so he was positioned above you.

“Give me one of my legs, Yoongi,” you said softly, still keeping eye contact. Yoongi let go of your right leg and you raised it, Jungkook moving his hand so you could place your calf on his shoulder.

“Do I just…?”

“Down.”

He missed.

“Try again,” Yoongi whispered gently. “Hyung will help you.”

Jungkook chewed on his lip and lowered his hips again, gasping as Yoongi’s fingers wrapped around his cock and led him to your pussy. You lifted your hips so Yoongi could see better. The head pressed against your entrance.

“A-ah…” you breathed. “There.”

“Push,” Yoongi instructed.

Jungkook slowly slid in. He winced. “She’s too tight.”

“Relax,” Yoongi chided you. “He’s not me. He can’t handle all that yet.”

“I am,” you shot back. “He’s not pushing hard enough.”

Yoongi huffed. “Fine. Shove it all in there, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Won’t that hurt you?”

Instead of waiting for Yoongi to answer, your hands came up and grabbed Jungkook’s hips, forcing his cock deep into you. He yelped at the sudden rush of pleasure, eyes rolling back into his head. You held him down, not letting him move, trying very hard not to tighten around his dick because, holy fuck, Jeon Jungkook had a nice cock, filling you up and stretching you out with his hardness, unforgiving and wonderful, reminding you of Yoongi’s.

Except, well, Yoongi usually didn’t look like he was going to pass out.

You had to bite your tongue so you wouldn’t laugh. Yoongi pinched your arm, already knowing your reaction. You hissed, pulsing around Jungkook’s cock. The younger man moaned, lowering his head, blond hair falling like a curtain. His eyes found yours. Jungkook’s gaze so intense it made your shiver, nails digging into his hips.

Outside the locked bedroom door, someone was yelling at someone else about cheating or something frivolous like that.

“You can move whenever you’re ready, Jungkook,” Yoongi finally said.

“Excuse me, I’m right here,” you interjected.

“Shh, don’t complain.” Yoongi’s hand stroked your red hair, flaring it out on his chest. “Let Jungkookie use you.”

Your chest tightened.

You felt yourself get wetter around Jungkook’s cock.

“What did you say to me?” you breathed. One of your hands lowered from Jungkook’s hip and gripped Yoongi’s wrist tightly. The tone of your voice changed, not quite so harsh anymore, turning needy and thin, breathless. Jungkook was watching you curiously. You felt your ears heat.

Yoongi’s free hand slid around your waist. You couldn’t see his face, but you saw Jungkook’s eyes slide upwards, observing his hyung. A mischievous spark suddenly appeared in those dark brown eyes. Yoongi cupped your breast, stroking your nipple lightly. Shallow, tight breaths, waiting for Yoongi’s response.

“I said,” Yoongi drawled. “Let Jungkookie use you.”

Oh no.

Oh shit.

Why were you suddenly so horny? It suddenly got so hot, suddenly so aware you were sandwiched between Jeon Jungkook’s hard dick and Min Yoongi’s fully clothed body, and Jungkook was going to fuck you into this random bed and into Yoongi himself. So very wrong. So very bad.

And you wanted it.

Jungkook raised his hips and pushed back into you, clenching his jaw. You were so wet that it was easy, not enough for your sudden hunger.

“Not too far,” Yoongi instructed. “You’re going to fall out if you pull out too far.” Yoongi nudged your hip. “Up.” You raised your hips and pressed your thigh against your chest. “Jungkook, angle yourself higher.”

Jungkook shifted and got more on his knees. “Like this?”

“Mhm. Go harder.”

Jungkook slapped his hips into you and you gasped, pressing your head into Yoongi’s chest. He stopped, looking worried.

“She’s fine.”

“Are you su–?”

“Jungkook,” you snarled. “Listen to him and just fuck my damn hole so I can get off.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened at your dirty words. Yoongi chuckled.

“She’ll be fine, Jungkook. Focus on yourself for now. Don’t go faster or you’ll cum too fast,” Yoongi cautioned. “At least for the first time. Go harder so you can feel it all.”

Jungkook bit his lip and began to slowly, but roughly, fuck you. Smacking your hips together with force, gasping at every descent, your pussy squeezing the full length when it was inside you. His gasps turned into moans, your breathy name, eyes closing as he thrust into you.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook groaned. “Fuck, she’s so wet, so tight…”

“Like your dreams?” Yoongi teased.

Jungkook seemed not to notice. “Better. Fuck, so much better, hyung, oh my God…”

“Harder,” Yoongi commanded. “I know you can go harder, Jungkookie.”

You moaned deeply as Jungkook rammed his hips into you, the wet squelch loud and lewd, so obvious if someone was listening outside, even through the music. But none of you cared, none of you noticed the bed squeaking as Yoongi spurred Jungkook on gently, having him increase the pace, making your body shudder with pleasure, mouth opening and tongue hanging out as you gasped for breath.

“You wanna cum, Jungkook?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, becoming hard under you as you cried out in pleasure, the base of Jungkook’s cock splattered with your juices.

“Not yet,” Jungkook whined.

“Alright, stop for a second.”

Yoongi placed a hand on Jungkook’s waist and pushed him all the way into you. You whimpered, so close to orgasm but cut off by Jungkook stopping, clenching around his cock as the head hit you deep inside.

Yoongi dropped his voice, speaking to you.

“Give him a hug.”

You gripped Jungkook’s cock and pulsated around it. Jungkook groaned, throwing his head back as his cock throbbed against your walls, roughly massaged by your pussy.

“Oh, fuck me…”

Jungkook began to move again, harder and faster now, lost in his lust, chasing his pleasure.

“Doesn’t it feel nice?” Yoongi purred to you. Your heartbeat skipped as Jungkook pounded you into Yoongi, biting your lip hard and whimpering as he fucked you mercilessly, lack of practice making it an erratic rhythm, watching his thick cock pump in and out of you, so good, so rough, using you.

Your name drifted from Yoongi’s lips, smokey and devious, driving you insane. Your head tipped back, staring at the ceiling, gasping as Yoongi’s words worked into you.

“You love it, don’t you?” Yoongi drawled. “You love Jungkook using you, fucking you like his own personal gloryhole, hm?”

Oh, fuck.

You whined pathetically, liquid gushing down Jungkook’s cock as you came, core tightening, Jungkook fucking you harder, grunting as he clenched his jaw, feeling you massage his length harshly. Yoongi pinched your nipples, lengthening your orgasm, and you squeezed your eyes shut, pleasure overwhelming your senses, consuming you, feeling nothing but Jungkook’s cock, Yoongi’s hands, and Yoongi’s words corrupting you.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy letting Jungkook use you like this,” Yoongi growled. “So generous, letting Jungkook fuck your tight little hole with his big cock, hm?” He rolled your nipples in his fingers and rubbed them hard.

“A-ah, Yoongi!”

“No, no,” Yoongi scolded, pinching them firmly and making your squeal. “Tell Jungkook how good he’s doing. Tell him how good he feels inside you, naughty girl.”

You opened your eyes to see Jungkook’s sweaty face, brows furrowed, jaw tight as he smacked your hips together over and over, veins popping in his neck and forehead. His cock was jerking inside you, close. So close.

“F-fuck, Jungkook,” you gritted out, feeling Yoongi release your nipples and bounce your tits in time with Jungkook’s thrusts. “Fuck, you’ve doing so good, can’t believe this is your first time, you’re so fucking strong and so fucking big, fuck…”

Jungkook’s dark eyes fixated on you, your bouncing tits, your open mouth, your glazed eyes, hips fucking him back as he fucked you.

“It’s because you have the perfect pussy, noona,” he growled, leaning down, pressing you into Yoongi, getting a deeper angle, nearly hitting your cervix. His breath was hot and erotic against your face, eyes flickering up to Yoongi before boring into yours, capturing you, dragging into his pace and his cock slamming into your hips.

“The perfectly tight little gloryhole for me to use.”

You cried out, something inside you snapping, cumming again all over Jungkook’s cock, your juices sliding down your thighs and his thighs, smearing into Yoongi’s jeans, dripping everywhere, so much, oh, God, so fucking intense that your pussy clamped around Jungkook’s cock. He moaned your name right into your face, thrusting one last time, pumping the condom full, stretching it out against your walls, so much you could feel it and his cock throbbing against your walls, trying to get it all out.

Yoongi didn’t even bother to ask. He simply reached down and pushed Jungkook back a little, feeling for the bottom of the condom and pushing him out of you. Jungkook whined, but Yoongi pulled you away from him.

“It’s too much,” Yoongi mumbled. “How long have you been holding out? Fuck…”

He pulled the condom off him and it was still dribbling out. Yoongi grabbed your hand and wrapped it around Jungkook’s cock, holding you in place with his. You were too tired to focus, too exhausted to realize what was going on.

Yoongi began to pump Jungkook with your hand, slowly. He was still so hard, veins imprinting into your palm, cum dripping all over your and Yoongi’s fingers. Jungkook whined, wincing at the sensitivity, but Yoongi was careful, sliding your palm up to the head and squeezing it firmly but not too tightly. Slowly, slowly, bringing Jungkook back down.

“Party’s dying,” Yoongi breathed. “We gotta get out of here.”

You were naked. Jungkook was naked. Your lower back was killing you. Yoongi’s blood alcohol level was far too high to drive even if he sounded sober. You sucked in a breath and shoved your face into the unknown sheets, groaning.

“Give me a minute, fuck.”

Shit, you just wanted to sleep.

third act. was it a dream a–dick–ted au

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #yoonkook smut #yoonkook x reader #bts smut #yoongi x you #jungkook x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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kentos-filmcamera · 3 years

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10 times, 1 occasion - Inumaki Toge

7. Festivities

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: hi hi! soo a few things: I would like to warn that this chapter shows a more feminine side of the reader so if anyone is uncomfy,, you've been warned. this chapter is just friendship and ships (there's nobara x maki and yuuji x megumi if you squint a bit) and it's 3.0k words (new record!!!!!) so buckle up and enjoy! also, next chapter is my favorite so far so go read it as soon as you're done with this.

Toge persisted you to rest for the past three days, as you were indicated. He sat by your bedside so you wouldn’t go anywhere, always keeping your injured ankle raised and your head comfortable, helping you to change bandages from time to time. Even then, you persisted to go as normal and continue with your duties.

“So hot…” Maki complained from your green couch, her glasses set aside as she covered her eyes from the sun with her forearm.

“I think you should stop hugging Kugisaki, then” Megumi suggested, the redhead laying on top of her, but he just received a death glare.

“Shake” Toge agreed with Maki, laying on top of Panda, who was snoring loudly. You, on the other hand, were on top of Yuuji’s shoulders, working on your damaged air conditioner.

“Gimme the flat screwdriver, ‘Gumi” You extended your hand, the other one holding one of the filters of the AC.

Your air conditioning system broke down once a year, and you knew it was because of the dirty filters. For some reason, everyone decided to hang out in your room, so extra help was usually given out to you. Maki and Nobara cleaned the filters, Panda and Toge first assisted you and then the help shifted to Megumi and Itadori. The last one was more than glad to have a pair of thighs wrapped around his neck, and his smile displayed so as Inumaki and Megumi both stared him down to oblivion. With the screwdriver now in your hand, you pressed each filter well to its original place. You closed the lid and Yuuji plopped you down on your bed, making you laugh.

You reached in to click on the air conditioner, it turned on normally and after a few minutes, it wasn’t leaking water anymore. “It’s fixed” You heard a collective sigh you let out yourself, feeling the cold air fill the room.

Itadori laid down on the floor by your mini-fridge and Megumi sat at the edge of your bed, next to your feet. You were all so overwhelmed by the heat, no one really wanted to speak, just take in the fake rise in temperature to calm down their sweating and corporal heat.

Just as you were falling into pure, calm bliss, you heard bass thumping from down the hall. You opened your eyes and raised your head towards the door, at the same time everyone else did, confused. Queue in Gojo with a boombox from the 90s, playing ‘Congratulations’ by Post Malone. There was now a collective groan in annoyance as he walked in and faced the bunch of sweaty teens.

“Good afternoon my amazing students!” There was another collective groan in response. No one didn’t even bother raising their heads once more to look at him, and Megumi just turned his face away slightly. Everyone was grumpy or simply not in the mood “I am here to give out great news! Everyone who has tried for first-grade sorcerer has been officially promoted! Congratulations!”

Suddenly, the aura of the room shifted. Everyone was upright, in a mix of shock and happiness. Nobara started screaming out in happiness with Maki, while you, Megumi, Gojo, and Itadori started jumping on your bed in a circle, holding hands. Inumaki was hugging Panda.

“Let’s throw a party! A fancy one!” Itadori suggested, and everyone cheered. Gojo seemed very fond of the idea, as he laughed.

“Dress code is suit and tie, I’ll see you all in the common dining room at 8! Now if you excuse me, I have a party to plan!” Gojo jumped out of the bed, picked up his speaker, and sprinted out of the room. You came down from your bed and threw yourself into Toge’s arms, who pulled you closer in by your waist. You laughed and nuzzled into his neck happily; he was smiling proudly.

“Oh my god! We need to go shopping!” Nobara realized, grabbing Maki’s wrist and snatching you away from Inumaki to head out the door.

“Wait, I need my wallet!” You screamed, but Toge ran after you to give you the tote bag you carried for trips outside the school. You blew him a kiss as he waved you goodbye.

“I’m dressed so inappropriately to go out” Maki groaned as Nobara rushed you on.

“Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand so no one flirts with you” Nobara beamed at her and then wink, making Maki fluster. You laughed and elbowed her in the ribs, wiggling your eyebrows.

“I can’t believe I'm going to have to third wheel today!” You laughed, watching as both women turned crimson.

Nobara insisted on shopping in the Harajuku district and looking at her eyes gleaming while passing different stores was like watching a kid in a candy store. Surprisingly, she was the pickiest one out of the three. Maki found her outfit first, a black blazer and pants combo with a black mesh button-up that had Nobara drooling. You found a black silk slip dress that reached down your calf, a slit on one of the legs with a loose neckline that reached down your collarbones. Nobara found a black dress that reached a bit down to her knees, it was strapless with a see-through long sleeve with roses. She laughed at the irony of it, considering the poison she was infected with last week manifested in roses on her skin. After that, you went to grab a bite, the three of you talking about everything, anything and nothing at the same time. You noticed the flirtatious remarks between your companions, happy that both had decided to move their attraction to flirting, rather than just staring at each other all the time. You returned to Jujutsu High around 3 PM, more exhausted than ever, you threw your bag to a corner, kicked off your sneakers, and threw yourself on the bed face down, falling asleep in that same starfish position.

“Aw, she’s asleep” You heard a voice comment. You thought it was only a dream and continued on napping. “Let’s just let her rest”

“Are you crazy? They promised to do our makeup! That’s three people already!” Another hushed voice chimed in.

“Tuna mayo” A third voice hummed. You were already back fast asleep as someone tried to shake you awake gently, only to fail miserably.

Toge sighed and squatted down, his face to level yours. Even with your mouth ajar, your duvet darkening from your saliva, and your slightly loud breathing, he loved how you looked so serene that what he was about to do next he found very cruel.

Delicately, he moved your hair away from your ear, swooping it to the other side of your face. Right there, he was taken away by your sleeping beauty; purples, oranges, and blues chiming into light your face as the sun went down. He sighed, half-smiling “Wake up”

He watched as your eyes popped open and you sat up, rigid. “What day is it?” You wondered, scratching your head and yawning, disoriented after the sudden surge of energy running through your body. Toge sat down by your side and placed his hand on your bare waist. You noticed lately he was even more touchy than usual.

“What day is it?” Nobara mocked you, a vein in her forehead palpitating. “You need to do our makeup! Hurry! You haven’t even showered!” She snatched you away from Toge and pushed you inside your bathroom. You heard a light ‘Tsk!’ outside from Inumaki, who has proven time to time really appreciate you being snatched away from him. “And you! Get out!” Kugisaki ushered him out of the room, slamming the door in his face.

“A little harsh, huh?” Maki said, turning to Nobara, who just rolled her eyes.

“I don’t care” She shrugged before taking out her hair straightener and a heat protector. You chuckled from inside the bathroom before taking your phone out of your pocket and connecting it to the Bluetooth speaker on the wall next to the bathroom mirror. You shuffled the playlist Toge made you a while ago and turned on the faucet.

“I hope you’re not going on a world tour right now! We don’t have time to listen to you all the way to your fiftieth stop in London!” You heard Nobara knock and shout at you from the other side of the door.

You rolled your eyes “Maki, keep your girl in check!” You shouted back before stripping and stepping into the shower. You were in the middle of your third song, washing the suds away from your body and giving your rendition of “Cognac Queen” by Megan Thee Stallion when Nobara opened the door and dragged you out of the shower. It became a struggle, and you were only able to grab the pink fluffy robe that hung on your door.

You fixed Maki’s hair by pulling it half up with a small claw clip, leaving her bangs out. Then you applied the lightest layer of makeup, with the dark eyeliner she requested. Nobara, on the other hand, asked for a full face with a red lip. On the other hand, you went for a light look, with a striking eye and a glossy lip. Then, the three of you rushed to get changed as you realized it was almost ten minutes before 8. As you exited the dorm, you wrapped a white ballerina-style cardigan, taking one last look at yourself at the entrance mirror before Nobara dragged you out of there. The three of you walked to the common room carefully, the door opened slightly.

You heard a couple whistles as you entered the room, you humored the boys, Nobara looked slightly mad while Maki ignored them. You realized that for the occasion Toge wasn’t wearing anything that covered his mouth, and made it evident it was a bit ajar watching you arrive. You said hello to the staff, greeting Nanami happily, who seemed pleased with your recovery and being slightly confused at why Utahime was there. You then headed over to greet your classmates, ending up with Toge.

“You look very handsome” You chuckled, and reached in to fix the strands of hair that fell on his forehead. He was wearing a sage green shirt, black trousers, and thin black suspenders. He shrugged a little and blushed as you touched him, leaning slightly into your touch.

“Shake” He nodded, and held your hand briefly, accepting the compliment. You blushed and looked down before taking your hand away from his face, afraid you were overstepping.

The party was light, everyone chatted and conversed lightly. Itadori seemed very busy on his phone, while Megumi spent all his energy trying to grab his attention. Yuuji called out for you, making you pull away from your conversation with Toge and Panda, who looked dashing in a yellow bow tie. He also called out for Panda. “I need your help,” He said nervously “I saw a speaker with lights in your room, can you go bring it here? Also, please wait at the entrance for someone. Panda, I need you as a distraction”

You excused yourself and left swiftly, fitting your cardigan once more. You walked the way up to your room, taking the squared-shaped, medium-sized speaker with half spheres on top, grabbing the aux cord just in case. Holding the speaker by its handle, you followed the trail to the entrance quietly.

“What is this?” You frowned upon seeing the students of the Kyoto sister school facing you. You raised your brows and Mai and Momo narrowed their eyes back to you, but the rest didn’t. Your eyes fell into the liquor store bags Todo held in his hands, then it all made sense. A smirk crept onto your face as Todo watched your change of expression and laughed. A party with the Kyoto students didn’t seem half as bad, and hey, maybe the stone-cold Soju can solve things out between everyone there.

Soon, you heard a couple of explosions and fireworks and some commotion coming from the common room. “Let’s go” You picked up the skirt of your dress a little to run a little easier, the rest following after you. You noticed everyone outside watching an impromptu firework show as you sneaked in the Kyoto students to the now dark room. Slowly, the rest of the Tokyo students sneaked back to the common room, Itadori locking the door in.

“Okay Panda, that was fun, but can we— huh?!” Gojo realized the locked doors and drawn windows. He tried to force the door open but it was closed shut.

“Oh finally. Can we go to a bar now?” Shoko sighed “Let them be Satoru, they’re in the blink of death every day, let them party”

“Can we all pretend they didn’t do that and we were here all the time chaperoning?” Gojo gave in easily, changing his usual blindfold to black, round sunglasses. Everyone made a noise in agreement and the staff left, feeling the bass pumping under their feet, the surges of different colored lights leaking out of the shut windows.

At first, the party was tense. Everyone was just staring at the other from across the room. You were busy in the background trying to plug in your phone and sync it to the speaker’s Bluetooth. Then, Todo gave a lengthy speech about sorority and brotherhood, and how you should all solve your differences so you could… get drunk and nasty together. In fact, it didn’t take long for the party to lighten up and turn into a club scene. By the third round of shots, mostly everyone was hot and bothered, all the tables moved aside to create a makeshift dance floor. Surprisingly, Panda was an incredible bartender, and he was out to kill; his drinks were packed with alcohol, but fruity and candied flavors hid it all and made it even more addicting. By your third drink, you ripped open the seam of the dress, creating another slit for you to move better.

You, Nobara, and the Zen’in twins were incredible dancers, but you didn’t really expect it from Itadori. He had all the spice down in his hips and the way he could shake his ass like his name was Cardi B. He joined in after his third shot with the song ‘Up’

“Broke boys don’t deserve no pussy!” Todo shouted to the song for the rest to respond.

“I know that’s right!” Everyone answered, except for Toge, before you continued dancing. Now more than ever you felt the euphoria of having money. First-grade sorcerers gave you a considerable amount of money, even if you were just a student.

“Yuuji!” Your mouth dropped to the floor, looking at him, before cheering him on along with the others. By the makeshift bar, a flustered Megumi joined by a sober Inumaki watched him dance, not knowing what he should do in that situation.

Then, as if you were reading his mind, you showed him what he should be doing; standing behind him and grabbing his hips. Soon as Nobara did the same with you, followed by Maki, followed by Mai, followed by Todo, making a train. On the other corner, there was some smoke coming up. You never thought you could have this much fun with people.

Another song started playing “It’s my homegirl, we got the same tattoos!” Itadori pulled you close to him while Todo recorded, and you laughed.

“Don’t accuse me of shit if you ain’t got proof!” You sang along, pointing to the camera, following along.

“What if we got matching tattoos?” Itadori turned to you, and you both frowned to think it hard.

“I think that’s enough” Megumi pulled your drink away from your hand.

“‘Gumi, relax. Go take a shot or a hit from Kamo in the corner, it’s a party! C’mon!” You pulled him to the dance floor, both him and Yuuji as you both threw it back on him to the song. This time, Megumi caught clues from earlier and shyly placed his hands on Itadori’s hips. You stopped and nodded, patting him on the back and walking away, a bit clumsily.

“Do we have any more water left?” You asked Panda, feeling your throat and eyes dry from the intoxicating substances. Panda nodded happily and gave you some water. You had reached your limit and decided it was time to sweat off the drinks and hydrate yourself.

“Oh my bad, that’s vodka,” He said as your mouth went into a thin line as you recognized the strong taste and scent. Inumaki snickered “Here”

“Tell me it’s not vinegar this time” You joked, taking a loud sniff of the liquid, and it was in fact, water. You took a large gulp, as you heard thunder followed by the soft pitter-patter of the rain. “Oh, it’s raining” You turned to Inumaki, who looked stunned at your drunken beauty. Your eyeliner was smudged, and so was your lipstick. There was some hair sticking to the nape of your neck due to the sweat. He could swear he saw some drops running down the small of your back. He gulped and looked away.

“You’ve been here all night, love; c’mon, let’s dance” You set your cup down and took Toge’s hand, pulling him out of his seat. The only reason this party was going along all well was that alcohol made you more straightforward, which made you all sultry towards your evident crush.

You noticed he was paler than usual “What’s wrong? Do I make you nervous?” You whispered in his ear, your hand slowly climbing from his hand all the way up to his neck, where you caressed the area. You never could have known alcohol made you that bold, and such a, well, maneater. At his lack of an answer, you just chuckled and took his hand, guiding him elsewhere.

Everyone at the dance floor greeted him more than enthusiastically, and suddenly, every insecurity Toge was holding deep inside of him throughout the whole party had disappeared. He blinked several times as you smiled at him as radiant as ever. “Let’s dance!” He nodded and smiled back. I love you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk inumaki #inumaki toge #toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #jjk fluff #10times1occ

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bbangsoonie · 4 years

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find me in your memory

member: sangyeon genre: angst word count: 10,200 synopsis: when you return to korea in hopes of recovering your lost memories, one of your new housemates seems oddly familiar. warning(s): inaccurate depiction of amnesia

Prologue:

You had locked yourself in a bathroom stall to run away from everyone’s obvious trying-not-to-stare glances. Your hand clenched around your phone as you stared at the top trending news article. Your father had officially announced his plans to advance his political career and alongside his name were the names of the rest of your family. Your mother, a renown actress. Your brother, a retired swimmer and a rising musician. And you, a rookie model who already walked in various fashion shows.

You were annoyed that your father chose today of all days to release the news. Today was White Day, meaning that boys were throwing you sweets left and right. You hated the extra attention and hated that you had to maintain elegance through it all. It was already bad enough that tonight was some fancy party your father arranged for the purpose of publicity and networking. You would be hiding under a mask all day and night now.

You sighed at the sound of the bell ringing to notify the students that lunch time was over. You dragged yourself out of the bathroom and braced yourself before you returned to your classroom.

People had already whispered about you in the hallways but your classroom erupted into full blown gossip. You heard guys discussing the news and girls expressing their jealousy.

“I guess the princess might actually become a princess now.” one girl said rather loudly. “Look at her. Pretending not to hear all of us. She must think we’re too lowly to even converse with.”

Her friend’s eyes widened at her bold outburst and tried to shush her.

“What? I’m not saying anything that isn’t true.” the girl freed herself from her friend’s grasp and blatantly stood in front of your desk. “Tell me, Y/n, am I wrong?”

You looked up to meet her eyes with a neutral expression. You wanted nothing more than to grab the opportunity to pick a fight with her. But you knew you would face repercussions with your parents so all you could do was force a small smile.

Before the girl could say something more, your homeroom teacher entered the room. Everyone quickly dispersed and found their seats.

“Y/n? Your father’s secretary is here to pick you up. You’ll be leaving school early today.” he said.

The statement prompted more hushed whispers as your classmates speculated the reason why you were being pulled out of class. Without a word, you grabbed your backpack and left. The secretary led you out of the building and into a black car.

You pulled out your phone and earbuds to accompany you for the ride. Closing your eyes, you rested your head on the window and increased the volume of your music. Your brother had sent you the guide for the song he was working on and asked for your opinion. You had grumpily agreed, slightly irked that he only contacted you for things like this.

You hated Younghoon for leaving you alone in this family. He was your father’s pride and joy when he was a national athlete. Granted, he was miserable his whole life pursuing swimming when all he wanted to do was sing. But still, you never expected him to suddenly retire and switch careers without confronting your parents. He simply packed up and left. Without a warning or explanation, he just moved out. By himself. Without you.

Now, all the burden of maintaining the family’s image was on you. You had been pushed into the modeling industry so your father could have a pretty face to marry off later on. However, with Younghoon leaving the sports scene, your father was furious that your entire family were all entertainers without higher aspirations. It was too late for you to learn a sport so now you were to get accepted into Seoul University’s business school. Your father insisted on having at least one socially respectable child.

Your brother spent the last couple of years cutting contact with the family. He refused to attend events or partake in promotional photoshoots. The only time you could ever see him was when he came to take the annual family portrait. That was the only duty he would now fulfill as the eldest son of the Kim family.

You hated him but you also couldn’t despise him. If your affection for him were to turn sour, you’d truly be alone in this world. Yet you were still upset every time your calls went to his voicemail and he replied with a text hours later to apologize. You knew he was busy making up for lost time but it still hurt that he was able to enjoy his freedom while you remained suffocated.

“Miss, we’ve arrived.” the secretary spoke.

You opened your eyes and saw that the car pulled up in front of a beauty salon. You sighed, realizing you would have to get your hair and makeup done. So you went, sitting in front of a mirror for hours as people hovered around you to make you presentable for the reporters that would welcome you with endless camera flashes. By the time they finished, you were given a white silky dress to wear. It was as if your parents wanted to send you off to get married right away.

Keeping your complaints to yourself, you got dressed and were rushed to the party. Your parents were already inside, meaning you had to face the cameras alone. Reporters shouted questions at you; the topics ranged from your outfit to your father’s political plans to your brother’s absence. Ignoring them all, you put on your capitalistic smile and posed. You then bid them goodbye and entered the venue.

It was packed with politicians and businessmen. You walked around, looking for the protagonist of this event. Your father had organized tonight under the guise of celebrating your mother’s upcoming film but the true celebration was the release of today’s news. He was here to garner support for his political campaign and he sure had a flamboyant way of doing it.

“My daughter!” you heard your mother’s voice call out.

You turned around and saw your mother beckoning you over. You put on another smile as you approached your parents. Your father pulled you in for a light hug and introduced you to the man in front of him.

“Y/n, this is Assemblyman Lee. We’ve grown quite close this past year. Assemblyman Lee, this is the daughter I’ve been bragging to you about. She’s even prettier in person, right?” he let out a hearty laugh.

You respectfully bowed and personally introduced yourself to the assemblyman.

“Yes, she is very beautiful indeed.” Assemblyman Lee agreed, joining his laughter. He then presented the tall male next to him. “This is my son, Juyeon. I believe he is the same age as you, Y/n.”

“He plays basketball and even modeled for Seoul Fashion Week.” your father mentioned. “Perhaps you’ve seen or heard of him before?”

“I think we may have passed by each other once or twice that day.” you smiled. To be honest, it was your first time meeting him.

“Assemblyman Lee and I get along like family and we were talking about becoming an actual family once you graduate college.” your father beamed.

Those words made your stomach drop. You knew you’d never get to choose your own partner but now that it was actually happening, you froze. Reality suddenly hit you like a truck. You were never going to have control over anything in your life. You were nothing but a pawn in your father’s journey to the Blue House.

You looked over at Juyeon who looked just as uncomfortable as you. This was the man who you were probably going to spend the rest of your life with and you had no idea what he was like. For all you knew, he could end up hating your guts. You felt panic taking over and excused yourself for an urgent visit to the bathroom.

Your vision was blurred as you quickly exited the ballroom and desperately searched for a private room. All you could think about was your brother.

Younghoon.

You needed him. His name was the only thing your brain could think of. You needed him to tell you that everything would be okay. That he would come save you. You knew it would be a lie but you needed to hear it anyway.

Once you found an unlocked storage room, your knees buckled and you fell to the floor. With trembling hands, you dialed your brother’s number and waited for him to pick up. You called him five times but only heard the line ring. Fighting back tears, you cursed him in your head.

You spent the next half hour trying to calm yourself down. Squatting down, you rocked back and forth with your hands covering your ears to block out the noise outside. Your hyperventilation was slowing and you weren’t struck by the fear of dying anymore. By the time you settled down, you felt numb.

With a solemn expression, you stepped out of the storage room. Avoiding the crowd, you wandered around until you found a back exit. Before you opened the door, however, you realized how much you’d stand out in your current attire. You called for the secretary and asked for one of your spare school uniforms. You changed into the blouse and skirt but left out the tie and jacket. Not having sneakers to change into, you kept your heels on.

You insisted that he return to the party and not follow you. You promised you’d be home by evening and shooed him away.

Now that you were finally free, you didn’t know where to go. School was already dismissed but the sun had yet to set. Without any plans, you just started walking. As you kept walking, you found yourself in front of your school.

You laughed in disbelief. Apparently this was the only place other than home that you knew. Finding yourself pathetic, you continued to walk up the path to the building.

The soccer team was still on the field practicing. You sat on a bench, watching them run and kick the ball around. You didn’t know a thing about the sport but found it oddly soothing to mindlessly stare.

After a while, you got tired of it and got up. You let your feet decide where to go next and ended up on the rooftop. The sky was now a golden color. You didn’t remember when you last saw such a view.

At that moment, your phone rang. It was Younghoon finally returning your missed calls. You stared at the screen, debating whether to pick up or not. By his second call, you decided to answer.

“Y/n! Is something wrong? Are you okay?” he asked as soon as you clicked “accept”.

You honestly didn’t know how to reply to his question. Looking back, you wondered if you had ever been “okay” in your life. Was this living or was this just enduring?

“I’m so sorry I missed your calls. I was at the recording studio.” he apologized. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” you lied. “I just missed you. A lot.”

You heard him let out a sigh of relief. Then his guilty voice.

“I miss you too.” he paused. “Listen, I’m extremely sorry for leaving you to deal with Father. I just… I couldn’t handle it anymore. I felt like I was gonna go insane. I could put up with everything but his demand to quit music. That was the last straw. It was the only bit of freedom I ever enjoyed and I couldn’t have that taken away from me as well.”

“But what about my freedom?” you wanted to ask.

“I know I’m a terrible brother. And an even worse son.” he admitted.

Not wanting him to feel sorry, you muttered a soft “whatever”.

“Once I finish recording this song, I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to sneak you out for a sibling date.” he said.

This was the seventh time he made this promise. Either he was always too busy or you could never escape the tight schedule set for you. But like the six other times before, you pretended to believe it.

The call ended soon after and you were left alone in silence. The tranquility on the roof contrasted the storm inside your head. You had spent your entire life striving to achieve your parents’ impossible standards. You were never enough. Never smart enough. Never pretty enough. Never social enough.

Everyone at school saw you as little miss perfect. It brought you both unwanted attention and hatred. People saw you as unapproachable and snobby. Some even expressed their disgust at how fake you seemed. At the same time, there were those who wanted to use you and your connections. There was always someone who wanted something from you.

You felt trapped.

The edge of the roof seemed to call and entice you. As if in a trance, you walked over to the wall and climbed on top of it. You sat on the ledge and took in a deep breath. You stared at the sight in front of you. Most of the soccer team had left school grounds by now. You only heard scattered voices here and there. It was probably the remaining students hollering at each other across the field.

The rest of the world seemed so peaceful. It felt like you were the only one unable to escape chaos. You swung your legs, enjoying the evening breeze. You didn’t want to ever leave this spot.

Your phone vibrated, notifying you of a new message.

“You’ll be meeting Juyeon this weekend. I expect it to go better than tonight.” it read.

Your grip on the device tightened. Without giving you a break, another message from your father arrived.

“Also, your exam scores came out. Your ranking dropped to fourth place. We’ll talk at home.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to pull your hair out and cry. Instead, you stood up and glared at the phone in your hand. Your hand was now trembling because of how tightly you were holding it.

By now, emotions were beyond you. Feeling pity for yourself was nothing but a waste of time. It didn’t fix things and it surely didn’t make you feel any better. You were just tired of it all.

Allowing yourself one last angry outburst, you threw your phone down. You didn’t watch it fall from the roof and hit the ground. It instantly broke on contact. Unbeknownst to you, the fall startled a male student passing by.

“What the heck?” Sangyeon exclaimed out loud. He had stuck around after school to watch Sunwoo’s soccer practice. They were about to head out for dinner when he remembered that he left his wallet in his locker. He had sent his friend ahead first as he ran back inside to grab it.

He took a closer look at what almost hit his head and was puzzled to see a phone. Looking for the lunatic who nearly killed him, he lifted his head to see where it came from. After his eyes adjusted to the sunlight, he gasped when he saw you standing on the ledge of the rooftop. Getting a bad feeling, he found himself running up the steps. The whole time, “please don’t die” raced through his head.

By the time he made it up to the roof, he was sweaty and out of breath. He wanted to collapse in exhaustion but his eyes widened as you began to inch towards the edge. His body reacted before his mind and he ran to pull you off.

The sudden grip on your wrist spun you around and you fell in what felt like slow motion. You landed on the boy’s chest that was breathing hard. You could hear his heart pump like crazy and his eyes were still closed in fright.

Realizing what just happened, you quickly got off him and dusted yourself off.

“What was that for?” you asked in a hostile tone.

Finally catching his breath, he opened his eyes and jumped up. His eyes almost bulged when he recognized your face.

“Are you crazy?” he yelled, pretending not to know who you were.

“You’re the crazy one butting into other people’s business.” you frowned.

For someone who was about to jump off a building, you looked eerily calm. Sangyeon searched for any signs of distress in your eyes but could only spot annoyance. Still, his gut told him that something was wrong. The empty look on your face scared him.

“Well while we’re in the middle of crazy anyway, why don’t you tell me what pushed you this far?” he bravely inquired. “Bottling everything inside alone will only make things worse. It’s better to just spill everything to a complete stranger you won’t ever see again.”

It was out of character for him to be so nosy but he strangely felt a strong desire to help you. As for you, you normally would have walked away from this situation minutes ago. Yet you still stood in front of this odd boy who demanded to be your impromptu diary.

He intrigued you. He was knocking at the stone wall you put up years ago. He seemed so bright and innocent. It bothered you.

Despite your irritation, something about his eyes made yours water. The way his eyes softened as he looked at you made you feel vulnerable. It seemed as if he could read you like an open book. It brought a wave of emotions you had suppressed for so long.

He stepped closer and offered you a comforting pat on the shoulder. The second his hand made contact, your tears finally escaped and ran down your face. You hadn’t felt the warmth of another human since you last saw your brother. The sudden consolation broke you. Then, like the domino effect, your sobs turned into bawling as your facade crumbled at last.

Sangyeon was shocked to say the least. He never would have thought the Y/n would be crying in his arms. In fact, he never expected to ever cross paths with you. He had only ever heard of you through other students’ gossip. They painted you out to be cold-hearted but the sight in front of him said otherwise.

Hesitantly, he pulled you in for a hug. Recalling how his mom used to comfort him, he tried to soothe you by slowly patting your back. The two of you stayed like that until your cries eventually faded out. Embarrassment belatedly hit you and awkward silence hung in the air. You felt like you owed him an explanation but you couldn’t even pinpoint the exact reason for your actions.

“Thank you.” you muttered softly while sniffling.

Sangyeon smiled in response and rummaged through his pocket to find something. He pulled out a lollipop and handed it to you.

“Even being sad takes energy. You should recharge your blood sugar.” he said as he placed it in your own pocket when you didn’t move to accept it. “Let it all out from time to time. It’s not healthy to always keep negativity inside you.”

You dwelled on his words for a moment. No one had ever told you that before. Everyone was always telling you to tolerate things. You weren’t allowed to disagree with your parents. You had to accept and deal with Younghoon’s departure without expressing how upset you were. You were expected to quietly receive criticism and never retaliate. You figured it was only a matter of time before the pressure eventually set off the bomb inside you. Like today.

Up until now, you thought the only solution for the explosion would be to just end it all. It never occurred to you that you could begin to disobey everything you were taught.

“Thank you.” you repeated. With that, you got up to leave.

“W-Wait!” he called out, causing you to pause. “Where are you going?”

“To eat dinner. You said it takes energy to be sad, right?” you smiled.

Sangyeon didn’t expect to see you again the next day. Cramming last minute for a test, he opted to skip lunch and study at the library instead. After he settled down, he looked up to see across the table. He had to fight the urge to gape.

Feeling someone’s gaze on you, you lifted your head to see the boy in front of you. Recognizing his face, you quickly shut your book closed and got up to leave. He was left flabbergasted at your blatant avoidance of him.

Meanwhile, you were cursing in your head. You chastised yourself for not realizing that he also went to your school. Stupidly, you hadn’t made the connection the day before on the rooftop. Of course he was only there at that hour because he was a student there. Now you were extremely humiliated. And afraid that rumors would spread.

“Hey, wait up!” he called out as he chased after you, earning him a stern glare from the librarian. You didn’t listen and only quickened your pace.

Unfortunately for you, his long legs easily caught up with you. He gently grabbed your wrist to stop you from running away. You scowled when you realized he wouldn’t just ignore you.

“Why are you pretending that you don’t know me?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I don’t know who you are,” you deadpanned. Your words rendered him speechless and after a few seconds of silence, you turned around to leave.

“Well, my name is Sangyeon,” he persisted, pointing at his name tag.

He spent the next couple of weeks following you around. At first, you found him annoying. He reminded you of your lowest point in life. But slowly, he wormed his way into your heart and established a place for himself there.

He would greet you each morning with a cheeky smile and a carton of banana milk. To be honest, you didn’t even like banana milk. Yet, you found yourself looking forward to it every day.

Eventually, you two formed an unbreakable bond. He was your only friend and all your free time was spent with him. Every time you felt suffocated by your parents, you reached out to Sangyeon for comfort. You never disclosed anything to him but his presence alone cheered you up. He made you focus on him and forget about everything else. You should’ve known that it was inevitable for you to fall for him.

He was that upperclassman that all the younger female students fawned over. You hated to admit it but you were also among the many who thought he was charming. You felt a pang of jealousy whenever you saw other girls swoon over him as he passed by.

Gradually, your personality began to shift into becoming more lively. You were grateful to have him show you the little things in life. You grew to like yourself and the world a little more.

Present:

You stared at the house in front of you. Twelve years ago, you left this house and town to attend school in Seoul. Seven years ago, you left Korea to move to California. Now, you were back as an adult. It felt strange.

Feeling the winter breeze chill your bones, you shuddered at the cold temperature and hurried inside. You were surprised at how neat the place was; you assumed that someone had been sent to save you from the hassle of cleaning.

Trudging up the stairs, you struggled with your large suitcase. You found your old childhood bedroom and roughly unpacked. Having only less than twelve hours until your new housemates moved in, you felt rushed to get the house ready to meet them. You decided to just wash up and sleep tonight and wake up early in the morning to go grocery shopping.

So you slipped into unconsciousness and spent a relatively quiet night. It wasn’t until morning that you were awoken by a dream. It was the same dream that haunted you for the past seven years. Ever since the accident, the same recurring scene appeared to you in your sleep. To be honest, the exact events were fuzzy but it always left you with the same nostalgic and longing feelings. It bothered you how uneasy it made you feel.

You groaned, noting that your alarm clock hadn’t even rung yet. With a loud sigh, you got up and got dressed. With over a decade between your last visit and the present, you relied on the GPS to navigate your way around the unfamiliar neighborhood.

As you walked around the quiet streets, you took the time to enjoy the scenery. You came back to this town to escape the city life but appreciated that it wasn’t entirely in the middle of nowhere.

Luckily, there was a supermarket nearby. There, you picked out a bunch of ingredients you figured would be used often. You didn’t cook much but wanted to change that.

The trip took longer than expected and you picked up your speed to make it back home before your housemates arrived. You let out a breath of relief when you returned and saw that no one was stuck outside waiting. Humming to a song you didn’t remember the title of, your steps were light as you put away the groceries. When you finished, you took a proper look at the house and were displeased at how bare it was. You made a mental note to buy decorations later to fill your new place with signs of human habitation.

At that moment, the bell rang. Suddenly feeling a bit nervous, you ran to the door. When you opened it, you were greeted by four males who seemed surprised at your appearance.

“Hello! Are you the tenants moving in today?” you asked.

“Yes, I believe we spoke with your… brother? On the phone,” one answered.

“It was probably my father’s secretary that you’ve been in contact with,” you said as you opened the door wider to let them inside. “Please, come in.”

They followed you into the house and dragged their luggage behind them. Once they were all inside, you extended your hand towards them.

“My name is Y/n and I will be the one living here with you all,” you introduced.

“My name is Jacob! I hope we get along well,” the one who first spoke grinned as he shook your hand.

You went down the line, greeting and shaking hands with Changmin and Jaehyun. By the time you got to the last person, however, your hand was left hanging. He stared at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher.

“I’m Sangyeon. Lee Sangyeon,” he finally said, taking your hand.

“Nice to meet you, Sangyeon,” you smiled.

You offered them a tour of the house and showed them their respective rooms. While they unpacked, you offered to order food. It was approaching noon and you still hadn’t eaten breakfast. They declined at first but gave in when you insisted on treating them.

By the time the food was delivered, the five of you gathered in the kitchen. You were pouring water for everyone and Jacob began to take out the bowls.

“Jajangmyun is fitting for today, right?” you commented on the Korean tradition of eating Chinese food on moving days.

After everyone was seated, you gestured for them to dig in and began eating. You let out a sigh of happiness at the taste you had missed in the United States. Korean food there just wasn’t the same as Korean food back at home.

“So, Y/n, how did you end up in this town?” Sangyeon asked. Something about his eyes felt intimate yet you still couldn’t pinpoint the reason why.

“I actually just arrived in Korea last night,” you chuckled. “I’ve been living abroad for a while.”

“Abroad? Really?” Jacob perked. “I used to live overseas as well! Toronto, to be exact.”

“I stayed in California for the most part,” you clarified.

“Oh really? California? Los Angeles?” Changmin asked in English. You giggled at his slight accent, finding it cute.

“Yes, I lived in L.A. for 7 years,” you said in English, laughing when Jaehyun’s eyes widened at your pronunciation.

While the four of you chatted, Sangyeon stayed quiet. He watched as Jaehyun asked you about life in America and Changmin told you about the time he visited New York City. He felt a twinge of jealousy when Jacob conversed with you in English.

“It’s definitely Y/n. It has to be. She looks exactly like her and has the same name. But why is she acting like she doesn’t know me? There’s no way she doesn’t remember me,” Sangyeon thought.

The next morning, you woke up early again due to jet lag. Throwing a robe over your pajamas, you headed downstairs to start making breakfast. You rummaged through the fridge, pondering on what to cook. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice someone else enter the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he said, startling you.

With a slight jump, you turned around to see Sangyeon. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and exchanged greetings with him. He spotted the gleam of a necklace hidden under your robe and furrowed his brows.

“That’s the necklace I got her. It’s Y/n for sure,” he thought.

Again, you felt his piercing gaze on you. Still unable to understand why he kept staring at you, you awkwardly turned back around. Sangyeon walked towards the kettle to make himself a cup of tea, still conscious of your presence. With that, he went back up to his room, leaving you alone once again.

Eyeing the bag of sliced bread, you decided to just settle for toast. After the simple meal, you went back to your room to get ready. It was the weekend and you planned on shopping for little trinkets to furnish the house with.

When you came back, you found your new cohabitants watching TV in the living room. You politely refused their help with the bags, setting them down on the table. You pulled out a few small photo frames and held them out to show them.

“Aren’t these adorable?” you beamed. “I was thinking of decorating the place with photos. You know, to add some warmth and humanity. Feel free to take a couple and add your own pictures.”

You placed a handful of the frames in front of them, encouraging them to take some. After excusing yourself for a second, you quickly ran up to your room to grab the printed photos on your desk. When you rejoined the group in the living room, you began to insert them into the picture frames.

“Is this from your high school entrance day?” Jaehyun asked, holding a photograph up.

“Yup,” you nodded. “To be honest, though, I don’t really remember much from high school.”

Changmin, finding a photo of you in front of the Hollywood sign, asked if it was taken during your college years.

“Ah, yes that’s when I first began my life in America. I was both anxious and eager to leave Korea behind,” you said, unaware of Sangyeon's wince at your words.

“Oh… Would it be okay for me to ask why?” Jacob asked.

“Of course. It’s all in the past,” you laughed. “I had some bad memories in Seoul and left abruptly at the end of my last year of high school. That was when I moved to L.A. to start anew.”

Sangyeon recalled the day you disappeared. He had texted you, asking to meet at the playground. After finding out about a misunderstanding you had, he wanted to resolve it as soon as possible. He waited there for hours but you never showed. You missed school for a week before your teacher suddenly announced that you would not be returning.

And that was the end of his friendship with you. You left without a warning or farewell. Now, you stood in front of him again. After seven years, he was reunited with you as an adult. He was both excited and confused. When he first saw you at the door, he wanted to blurt your name out and catch up on all the missed time. But when you introduced yourself to him as if it was your first meeting, he found himself doing the same.

At every encounter, you acted as if he was a stranger. At first, he thought you forgot about him and it hurt. But now, he supposed that you just wanted to forget about him. When you mentioned that you had bad memories of Seoul and that you were glad to start fresh in Los Angeles, he realized that he was nothing but a painful past to you.

So he put on a poker face and went along with your little act. For a month, he kept his distance from you and made sure to stay within the strict boundaries of a landlord and a tenant. While his friends grew close to you, he remained reserved.

“Why are you so cold to Y/n?” Changmin once asked him. Sangyeon never answered the question and continued to keep his facade up.

Meanwhile, you were clueless as to why Sangyeon was so standoffish. You had asked his friends, who were a lot more pleasant, if he was normally inhospitable to new people. At their unnatural attempts to change the subject, you figured it was just you that he disliked.

Still, Sangyeon couldn’t hide his innate desire to take care of you in his own ways. Every time your favorite snack ran low in the pantry, he would stack up on it next time he went to the mart. Knowing you hated the cold, he would make sure to keep the house temperature high—even when Jaehyun went to lower it, complaining that he was hot. When you fell asleep on the couch, he would cover you with the blanket you kicked to the floor.

The boy in front of you was extremely close as he reached behind your shoulders to put the necklace on for you. You held your breath and felt your heart race.

“There,” he grinned proudly. “How pretty.”

“Me or the necklace?” you asked, half joking and half serious. He shrugged, prompting you to playfully punch his arm.

“Now you’re forever indebted to me, Y/n. That’s a one of a kind necklace you can’t find anywhere else. Be honored I made it for you,” he declared. You rolled your eyes at his arrogance but still smiled nonetheless.

“Since I gave you this, you can’t ever forget me, okay?” he made you promise.

Your eyes opened, waking you up from your dream. Finding it odd how vivid it was, you frowned and sat up. You wondered if it was a part of your missing memory.

The view outside your window revealed a white wonderland, reminding you that the weather forecast predicted a snowstorm today. You groaned, remembering that today was also the day that you would be alone with Sangyeon. Jacob was on a business trip whereas Changmin and Jaehyun went to their hometowns to visit their parents.

“The snow just has to lock us inside this house today of all days,” you mumbled as you snuggled back into your blanket.

You closed your eyes, wanting to sleep a little more. After half an hour of trying to fall back asleep, you gave up with an exasperated sigh. You changed into a sweatshirt and went downstairs to make yourself some hot chocolate.

To your surprise, Sangyeon was already in the kitchen with a cup of hot chocolate. You both froze, not knowing how to interact without at least one of the other three guys.

“Here, you can have this one. I’ll make myself another one,” he finally spoke, handing you the cup topped with marshmallows.

You muttered a word of thanks as you wrapped your hands around the warm drink. Looking at the window, you saw that the snow was piling up a lot already. In an attempt to break through the walls Sangyeon had built around you, you mustered up the courage to ask if he wanted to watch a movie together. Taken aback, he nodded before he even fully processed your question.

That’s how the two of you ended up on the coach with a randomly chosen film playing on the TV screen. The movie was better than you thought it’d be. The subtle love line brought a comedic relief in such an action-packed plot. You enjoyed it until the main character ended up with amnesia; it made you uncomfortable as it reminded you of your own accident. Noticing that you weren’t focusing on the movie anymore, Sangyeon paused it and asked if you wanted to stop watching.

Not wanting to ruin the mood, you shook your head. He stared at you for a bit before turning it off. Although you were relieved, you felt bad because he seemed to be enjoying the film.

Trying to make up for it, you offered to make lunch. At his reluctance, you insisted since you both had to eat and delivery would take a long time. He followed you into the kitchen, watching as you surfed the internet for recipes.

You managed to keep the conversation flowing as you cooked. You asked about his job and he asked about your experience as a college student in another country. You were happy that he was finally opening up to you. By the end of the meal, you felt comfortable enough to share a little more about yourself.

“To be honest, I was very hesitant about coming back to Korea. When I left seven years ago, I left behind a lot,” you began.

“Yeah, you left me behind,” Sangyeon wanted to say. Instead, he kept his thoughts to himself.

“I mentioned before that I don’t remember much of my high school years. The only memories I have of back then are whatever my parents told me. Which isn’t much. They were always too busy to know what went on in my life,” you stated.

Trying to piece the information together, he carefully asked what you meant by that.

“I got into a car accident seven years ago,” you sheepishly revealed, making his eyes widen. “Apparently I was in a coma for about a week. When I woke up, I was told that I was suffering from amnesia. I was hospitalized for another few weeks to recover and then sent to California to be with my cousin, Eric. There, I went through physical therapy and attended university. I was hoping to leave behind my trauma in Korea.”

“O-Oh, I didn’t know you went through all that,” he stammered, embarrassed.

“I feel like there’s a part of my life that I’m missing and I hate it,” you confessed. “I get these dreams sometimes and I think it might be my missing memories but I’m not too sure.”

The two of you fell into silence. Sangyeon despised himself for not knowing what happened. He had been too busy pitying himself to stop and think from your perspective. He didn’t deserve to have you remember him. He figured it was best that you forgot him. There was no point in disclosing everything now anyway.

After that day, you thought you had gotten closer to Sangyeon. Contrary to your expectations, however, you grew even more distant. At first, you thought you were overthinking. But as the week went on, it became obvious that he was indeed avoiding you.

Eventually, Jacob confronted him about it. He trapped his best friend and demanded an explanation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sangyeon lied with a straight face. Sighing, Jacob let it go. He knew that he couldn’t force anything out of him.

Despite Sangyeon’s efforts to keep away from you, he still continued to quietly do little things for you. Luckily for him, you didn’t notice. You didn’t think twice about the pot of coffee that was always prepared every morning or your shoes that were neatly put away after you left them scattered at the entrance.

You didn’t know why you felt so disappointed. You didn’t realize that you had grown attached to him as time passed by. Something about him felt familiar and comfortable. Yet, at the same time, he felt like a challenge. He was aloof but occasionally had moments that showed his soft side. He intrigued you.

“Y/n, you can’t keep associating yourself with that boy. Imagine how shocked we were when we heard those rumors about you two dating! You know your father has plans for you and Juyeon,” your mother chided.

“It’s the 21st century! I am not getting into an arranged marriage. Especially not just for the sake of father’s political ambitions,” you yelled.

A slap was delivered to your face. The sound was loud and you felt your cheek throb in pain. Bewildered, you glared at the woman in front of you. Deeming your action as disrespectful, your mother slapped you once again.

“You don’t even deserve to be called a mother,” you spat.

With that, you stormed out of the house. The boy your mother demanded you to stay away from wasn’t even your boyfriend. You had hoped that he would be one day but that hope dissipated when you saw another girl in his arms earlier that day. Tears blinded your vision as you fumbled for your phone. You called Eric, praying that he would pick up despite the time difference. To your relief, he did and his voice caused you to sob.

“Y/n? Y/n, what’s wrong?” Eric asked, concerned.

You barely managed to tell him what was going on in between your cries. He tried to calm you down but it was futile. You weren’t listening. You were too busy running away. Too busy to notice the car that was speeding towards you.

You woke up gasping for air. Your heart was beating fast as you checked your surroundings. Once you realized that you were in your room and not on the streets, you relaxed.

“Was that just a dream? Or a flashback?” you murmured. You brushed it off, blaming your return to Korea for these weird dreams.

Eric was landing in Korea today and you were thrilled. You missed him greatly and couldn’t wait to see him again. You glanced at the clock to check the time. You had to leave soon to greet him at the airport. Quickly getting dressed, you hummed in excitement.

On your way down, you heard the doorbell ring. You cocked your head, wondering if one of the guys had invited a guest. You shouted out that you’d get the door and ran to open it.

“Surprise!” Eric yelled, holding a bouquet of flowers.

It took you a moment to process the scene in front of you. You blinked a few times before you squealed and jumped into his arms. He laughed, dropping the flowers to hold onto you. The noise brought your housemates downstairs with curiosity. You quickly introduced everyone to each other and pulled your cousin inside once they finished exchanging greetings.

“I thought your plane was landing in an hour!” you exclaimed.

“I told you the wrong time so I could come surprise you instead,” he winked.

You didn’t notice Eric staring Sangyeon down but Sangyeon definitely did. He tried to ignore it, assuming that your cousin just wasn’t happy with the fact that you were living with four males.

You spent the rest of the day catching up with Eric and exploring your neighborhood together. You showed him your favorite cafe and feasted on the waffles there. He filled you in on how his parents—your aunt and uncle—were doing. They drilled him to make sure he told you how much they missed you, making you giggle. As proof of his completed mission, he took a selfie with you to send to them.

“I miss them too,” you pouted. “I better video call them soon. It’s hard trying to match the time zone and their work schedule.”

“Or,” he dragged out the word expectantly. “You could just move back to L.A.”

“Eric, you know why I came back. And what it took for me to do so.”

“I know, I know. But I honestly don’t know how I feel about you trying to retrieve your memory. Maybe some things are better left forgotten?”

“For the past seven years, something in the corner of my brain has been irking me. I know I’m forgetting something important. I feel it.”

He sighed and put his hands up as a sign of defeat.

“Just remember that if you don’t find what you’re looking for or if you aren’t happy with what you find, you can always go back to join me in L.A.” he said softly.

It was a hard secret to keep from you for almost a decade. In exchange for calling off your arranged marriage, your parents made him promise to never tell you about what happened the day of the accident. You moving to Los Angeles was the solution your parents came up with to keep you away from that past.

Seeing Sangyeon at your house gave him a bad feeling. He didn’t know what he told you and was scared that it was only a matter of time before your memories returned after seeing him so often.

Before Eric left for Seoul, he pulled Sangyeon aside to give him a warning.

“I don’t know why you’re lingering around my cousin but I know who you are,” Eric glared. “I obviously don’t know the whole story of what happened back when you two were in high school but I don’t quite like you. If you’re simply here for a place to live, keep it that way. Don’t put anything in Y/n’s head. She doesn’t need to remember what you did to her.”

“What I did to her?” Sangyeon repeated, confused. “But I didn’t- wait, are you talking about-”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Eric interrupted. “You led her on and then hugged another girl right in front of her.”

“The girl she saw me with wasn’t my girlfriend. She suddenly came up to me and confessed. That hug was initiated by her and was one sided. I found out about that misunderstanding and was trying to clear it up the day she disappeared.”

“Does it matter anymore after all these years?” Eric sighed. “Listen, you have no idea what Y/n went through back then and what was sacrificed to let her live the way she wanted to.”

“If there’s something you want to tell me, don’t beat around the bush,” Sangyeon frowned. Eric let out an exasperated sigh, conflicted. He wasn’t sure if it was his place to reveal details to him but he felt that it was necessary.

“That day. Y/n’s parents found out about how you two had a thing. There were rumors going around and it reached their ears. I don’t know if Y/n ever told you but they already had a guy in mind for her. Some stupid politics shit. Obviously, she said that was ridiculous but what power does a teenager have over their parents? She was fighting so hard for you but it was all in vain. You broke her heart.”

Sangyeon’s face crumbled at his words. You had never told him about the struggles you had in your home but he should have caught on from the day he first met you.

“That accident took away her memory. For better or for worse. She forgot all about the guy her parents pushed her towards and she forgot about the pain you caused her. And to be quite frank, I want it to stay that way. She came back to Korea to recover her memories but she deserves peace and happiness. She doesn’t need any more dramatic twists in her life. If you still truly care for her, you would agree,” your cousin said before he left.

A figure stood in front of you. You couldn’t see the face but there was a sense of familiarity. It was the same boy from your previous dreams.

“How could you not remember me, Y/n?” he asked.

You wanted to hold his hand and try to recall who he was. You wanted to hug him and tell him that you didn’t intentionally forget him. But your body would not move according to your will.

You awoke to a pounding head and sore throat. Feeling your nose run, you reached out for a tissue. You moaned in pain, realizing you had a bodyache as well. You couldn’t bear to get up and pulled the blanket closer to your body to keep warm. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to fall back asleep.

Downstairs, the guys were eating lunch together. Jaehyun looked at his watch and verbally noted that you still hadn’t woken up.

“Do you think we should wake her up to eat?” Changmin asked, to which Jacob shook his head, saying that they should leave you to rest.

“I wonder if she’s sick? I heard her coughing in the middle of the night when I got up to go to the bathroom,” Jaehyun said.

On the outside, Sangyeon pretended not to care. On the inside, however, he was extremely worried. You always got sick at least twice each winter. After quickly finishing his meal, he grabbed his coat and headed out to the pharmacy. He asked for any and every medicine to help with colds and kept the bag in his pocket when he came back.

He stopped in front of your door with his hand hovering mid-knock. He decided against knocking and left the bag of medicines hanging on your handle.

When evening came around, Jacob went up to your room with a bowl of porridge. Seeing the bag still on the door, he knocked and entered with it.

“So you are sick,” he commented when he saw your disheveled image.

“Jacob, you are an angel,” you gasped at the sight of the food.

“Actually, the medicine isn’t from me. I think that might have been Jaehyun. It was left on your door handle,” he said as he set the tray down on your desk.

You thanked him for the porridge and made a mental note to thank Jaehyun later. Too tired to do anything else, you took the medicine and fell into another deep sleep.

The next day, you felt better enough to get out of bed. Wrapping a blanket around your shoulders, you trudged downstairs. You saw Jaehyun in the kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee and said good morning.

“Oh! I didn’t get the chance to tell you yesterday but thanks for the medicine,” you smiled.

“Huh? What medicine?” he tilted his head in confusion.

“You weren’t the one who left medicine for me outside my door?” you blinked. He shook his head and you assumed that it had been Changmin.

However, when you asked Changmin about it, he was clueless as well. It left you with only one other possibility and your heart skipped a beat at the thought. Wanting to express your gratitude, you went out and bought ingredients to make him some kimbap. You spent the rest of the morning working hard in the kitchen, persevering through multiple mistakes.

You groaned the third time the kimbap popped while you tried to roll it. You considered giving up for a brief moment but shook your head. With a determined sigh, you pulled out another sheet of dried seaweed and began your fourth attempt.

Finally, you managed to decently succeed. You grinned in triumph at your slightly deformed roll. After cleaning up the mess you made, you looked out the window to see Sangyeon reading in the yard with a beanie on and a scarf wrapped around his neck. Hoping to keep him warm, you poured a cup of hot coffee and walked towards him with the food nicely plated.

“Hey Sangyeon,” you said as you held out the plate. “I made you some kimbap for you to munch on as you read.”

“No thanks,” he said coldly. You blinked, not expecting such an answer.

“O-Oh… do you not like kimbap?” you awkwardly laughed. “Here, have some coffee then.”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to mind me,” he closed his book and stood up to leave. You frowned at his rudeness, ticked off.

“You could at least take the coffee if you don’t want the food,” you said, making him pause. “Or at the very least politely decline considering the effort I put in.”

“I never asked you to put in any effort towards me.”

You scoffed and put the cup and plate down to fold your arms. His harsh words were so different from his kind actions. It constantly felt like he was trying so hard to push you out and you didn’t understand why.

“Then what’s with the medicine you left for me yesterday?” you confronted him. He froze, not knowing how he got caught. He then noticed that you came outside with no outerwear, making him sigh. Trying to avoid an argument, he silently took his scarf off and put it on you before turning around to leave.

“What the hell, Lee Sangyeon?” you blurted. You placed yourself in front of him to stop him from leaving.

“What is with you? Literally one day you’re taking care of me behind my back and the next you’re avoiding me like the plague. Is this your tsundere concept or what?” you huffed.

You waited for him to say something back but he kept his lips pursed. Exasperated, you ripped the scarf off and stormed back inside.

Sangyeon cursed at himself in his mind. He could’ve handled that a lot better. Sighing, he bent down to pick up the scarf thrown on the ground. At a closer glance, he saw your necklace buried in the fabric. He held it up and stared at the jewelry in his palm. With a conflicted expression, his grip tightened around it, enclosing it in his fist.

You decided that you were over Sangyeon once and for all. You didn’t care how tired he came home looking every night or if was eating properly. You officially gave up on getting closer to him. If he wanted to push you away with his stupid tsundere ways, then that was his problem and not yours.

Grumbling, you climbed into bed to comfort yourself by watching Netflix. You very much rather preferred having your mind occupied with fictional characters than your own issues.

By the time evening rolled around, you grabbed your clothes and headed to the bathroom to shower. Your hands reached up to your neck to take your necklace off but were met with bare skin. Your eyes widened as you looked in the mirror, realizing that the necklace was gone.

You didn’t remember when or where you got it but you always had a feeling that it was important to you. You felt anxious without it.

You rushed to the kitchen to find it. Changmin was staring at you, perplexed, as you crawled across the floor to check every nook and cranny.

“Are you looking for something?” he asked.

“My necklace,” you tensed. “I can’t find it anywhere. Have you seen it here?”

He shook his head as he apologized, saying he hadn’t. Fretting, you checked the living room hoping it was hidden somewhere on the couch. When it still didn’t turn up, you ran outside to check the yard.

At that moment, Jacob and Sangyeon came down and saw Changmin looking out the window. Curious to see what he was watching, they followed his gaze to see you examining the grass.

“What’s Y/n doing?” Jacob asked.

“I think she lost her necklace,” Changmin answered as he took another bite of his apple. “It must be really important to her. She’s been searching for a while now.”

“I hope she finds it soon. It’s cold out at night,” Jacob said with a concerned look on his face.

Sangyeon stiffened, feeling the necklace in his pocket. He brushed it off, thinking you would give up soon. After pouring himself a cup of tea, he returned to his room. The sky rumbled, warning of incoming rain.

“I’m sure she’ll come back in now,” he mumbled.

Half an hour passed as Sangyeon continued reading his book. It was now pouring outside and the raindrops tapped violently against the windows. He reached out for his tea, only to notice be met with an empty cup. He placed the book down and went to the kitchen for a refill.

He was shocked to see you still in the yard, crouched down with a flashlight. Anger bubbled up inside him and he found himself grabbing an umbrella and joining you outside. Holding your wrist, he lifted you up to face him. The rain ceaselessly attacked the umbrella over your heads and his heart broke at the sight of you. You were drenched and your hair stuck to the sides of your face.

“Let go of me. I need to find something,” you freed yourself from his grasp and went back to shifting through the grass.

“It’s late and it’s raining. You can look for it later,” he said as he pulled you back up.

“No, I have to find it now,” you insisted.

“Y/n, you’re sick!” he exploded. “What’s more important than your health right now?”

“My necklace!” you yelled back. “I can’t remember who gave it to me but I know it was a gift. I can’t lose it. I just know that it’s from someone important. It’s the missing memory I came back to Korea to find!”

His chest clenched as your tears blended in with the rain. He never thought that the necklace would mean so much to you. Hesitantly, he pulled it out from his pocket and handed it to you.

“I’m the one who gave it to you, Y/n,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “Seven years ago, I was the one who made this necklace and gave it to you. This isn’t what I meant when I said that you were indebted to me.”

Puzzled, you stared at the chain hanging from your clasp. You were beyond confused. If you had known Sangyeon, why did he never act like it? Then, the pieces started to come together and his behavior started to make sense. Those eyes that seemed to recognize you from day one. The endless supply of the snacks you never expressed your love for in front of the guys. The dreams that you suddenly understood now.

“You knew who I was the entire time… and you didn’t say anything?” your voice cracked. “You knew I was out here looking for the necklace that you had and you still didn’t say anything?”

“I-”

“Forget it,” you cut him off. You shoved the umbrella away from you and slowly walked towards the house.

“Now you’re forever indebted to me, Y/n. That’s a one of a kind necklace you can’t find anywhere else. Be honored I made it for you.”

You winced at the sudden flashback.

“Y/n, you can’t keep associating yourself with that boy.”

You shook your head as if the memories would shake out of your mind.

“You don’t even deserve to be called a mother.”

You stumbled, causing you to flinch. Sangyeon ran to hold onto you and caught you just in time before your knees went weak. You felt your lungs tighten as the world spun around you and his voice became muffled. Then, everything went black.

“We gave her a fever reducer so her temperature should be coming down soon,” the doctor said as he looked through your patient chart. “She can be discharged once she wakes up and finishes the IV treatment. As long as she rests well at home, she’ll be okay.”

Sangyeon profusely thanked the doctor before he felt to continue his rounds. Sitting down next to you, he sighed. This wasn’t what he intended at all. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy. Back then and even now, his priority had always been you. Even if it meant giving up his own desires. Even if it meant giving you up.

It was taking longer than expected for you to awaken. Sangyeon began to worry but the nurses assured him that there was no problem. He restlessly paced around your bed, praying that you were okay.

When you finally came to, it took you a moment to register your surroundings. In what felt like a long sleep, all of your lost memories came flooding back. Still overwhelmed by the sudden anamnesis, you grasped for the only thing that brought you a sense of familiarity and comfort—Sangyeon’s hand.

“Don’t leave me,” you croaked.

“I won’t. I promise I won’t let you go again,” he whispered, holding your hand tighter.

225 notes · View notes

sweetestlamb · 4 years

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Yoga

Summary: Vincenzo hides his jealousy as well as he hides being part of the mafia.

Author's note: it was supposed to be a cute jealous yoga story I don't know why this ended in angst 😂😂😂 I really need to get my life together. Also Vincenzo rubbed me the wrong way today and some people are trying to convince me that I'm interpreting the show incorrectly and explaining to me why it didn't offend them and why everything was fine and I just need you to know, my opinion isn't changing but listen if you had a great time today watching the episode please don't let me stop you. I don't need anyone to be outraged with me. I'll be mad all by myself I promise! But just to be clear my problem was the creation of yet another gay character who an awful person in a kdrama. I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen gay characters not be predators or abusive.

Anywho I give you jealous aerial yoga fun that ends in man pain!

He probably believes that he's being inconspicuous again, hiding this side of him as well as he'd thought he was hiding being a member of the mafia. But he's just as obvious as he always is in her eyes, much like her he's too theatrical to ever really conceal how he's feeling. He talks too much and reveals his cards too easily- especially to her.

He's attracted to her that much is painfully evident, if her father's nosy assistant hadn't interrupted they would have kissed. She would have been laid across the table and taken apart, his eyes promised a great time as he devoured her. She was just as attracted to him, she wouldn't have stopped him from doing whatever he wanted.

It is getting more difficult to ignore the quiet moments though, when she can feel his eyes on her and it's not sexual at all. He's just looking at her and she feels bare, naked.

Those moments scare her in a way she hasn't felt before. Ergo she presses them deep, deep into the dark corners of her brain behind all the different ways that she has concocted to throw off others, she's used to being strange and having men overlook her for it.

She's never been what others would consider "sexy". But then he appears and suddenly men seem to see her in a new light. Or maybe he brings her attention to it.

It all begins at the coffee shop, they've made a habit of starting their mornings together by getting coffee. She doesn't analyze what exactly they're doing but some may consider it a date, she hasn't giving the outings a title there's no need to.

She feels comfortable with him and he hasn't been resistant to her pushing her way into his life. She has always been like this, too much and overbearing. Usually it drives people away and she pretends that it doesn't hurt that she's something that people need in doses, she's heard that so often that it's etched in her brain.

Friends in college, boyfriends and her colleagues to name a few.

But for some reason he keeps coming back for more doses, regularly smiling at her shenanigans even egging on her antics with full body laughs.

So he'd taken her to get coffee grinning once again as she dragged her caffeine deprived body dramatically like a puppet with its strings cut to the counter, plopping herself on the surface before crying out, "If I don't get a large sewage water in five minutes my death will be on your hands!" The barista behind the counter grinned over at her, used to her dramatics. He was young, barely nineteen and he'd tried his hand at flirting with her a few times. She had promptly laughed in his face the first time, spewing coffee everywhere before strutting out of the shop.

Laughing and punching a stranger in the arm, ignoring the loud "Hey! What are you doing," before she danced down the sidewalk, hand on her hip as she flipped her hair before shouting to the sky, "I've still got it, baby!"

That day he had glanced at Vincenzo before walking over to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I didn't realize I had so much power over you. What if I say I won't give it to you unless you let me take you on a date?" She remembered her eyes widening in shock and then disbelief and finally landing on bemusement, he was persistent she would give him that much but she was no cougar so his flirting was futile.

She opened her mouth to let him down easy- laugh in his face again and remind him that he had to be this old to ride her ride but suddenly her Italian was leaning across the counter, all cool lines with a deadly smile on his face.

With a his deep voice he chillingly said, "If you don't give it to her your death will be on my hands."

There was heavy silence.

He continued, "I know how to kill a man with only a coffee cup and a string."

The barista, Heon, stared at Vincenzo with all of the blood draining from his youthful face. She didn't blame him the man did sound unnervingly serious and the look in his eyes was a little too real to be purely acting. Plus there was conveniently a coffee cup and a string right there on the table, it was an oddly specific thing to say.

Then after a pregnant pause, he started laughing loudly filling the entire shop like a mad man and she looked over at him as if he had lost his damn mind but this was her favorite coffee shop, she couldn't be banned so she started laughing with him, guffawing and pushing the idiot on the shoulders.

"He's just joking! HahaHAHAHA, laugh it was a joke! LAUGH!!" She leaned across the counter to pat the scared boy on the back but then Vincenzo leaned into her, draping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her back until she was no longer touching him. His laughter static and too robotic to be anything other than a hoax.

She'd never seen anyone brew coffee that fast before. It was impressive what a person could do when they felt as if their life was in danger she'd thought, she gave him a generous tip before leaving.

Heon mysteriously stopped working when they would normally come to the coffee, another barista informed her that he had switched his hours. A certain Italian was really cheerful upon hearing the news, whistling an unknown tune as he sipped his tiny cup of espresso- double shot, traipsing away with a pep in his step and the wind beneath his suit coat.

His random violent outbursts continued.

Bartenders. Businessmen. Traffic officers. Other lawyers. A librarian who had flirtatiously whispered that she wouldn't need to be quiet when they were alone. Suddenly there were men everywhere and she was the hottest thing on the menu, her lower back probably had an imprint of his hand by now from all the times he would steer her away from her suitors.

Every time his excuses were the same, "I'm just protecting you. Guys like that are scum, you deserve better."

Well the one she wanted had no intention of staying so why was he blocking anyone else from trying?

Thinking about it makes her chest feel tight and she welcomes the weekend, she has booked an aerial yoga class to release some of the stress and tension just being around the Italian causes.

It's a warm day so she dons a small set, a light blue sports bra with matching shorts throwing a light jacket over in case the temperature drops at the end of the day. Looking in the mirror she scoops her hair into a low ponytail, pushing back baby hairs that frame her face.

She swipes a thin layer of chapstick across her dry lips before grabbing her phone, keys, gym membership card and her gym bag with a change of clothes.

The drive to the studio is short, she listens to BlackPink on the radio happily screaming about her dududududu complete with car choreo that consists of arm shakes and a lot of hair whipping. It's another miraculous day where she does not cause a car accident, she gives herself a high five for the small victory.

She parks her car haphazardly driving onto the sidewalk several times before getting it right. With a satisfied sigh she hops out of her car, opening the back door and bending over to grab her gym bag.

"Cha-young ah?"

A familiar voice surprises her and she jumps bumping her head into the roof of her car with a cry, she drops the gym bag and leans out of the car rubbing her throbbing head with a pained grimace.

Vincenzo is standing in front of her, in what is the most casual outfit she has ever seen him wear. A pair of navy blue sweatpants, a plain white t-shirt and expensive looking black sneakers, leave it to him to wear Balenciagas when trying to look casual.

Her mouth becomes very dry as she takes in the unexpected but very much welcome sight.

Shaking herself out of her stupor she raises an eyebrow at him, "What are you doing here?" She asks once again leaning into her car to retrieve her gym bag. When she turns around slamming the door shut she watches Vincenzo peel his eyes away, quickly looking away from her direction.

Had he been checking her out?

She smirks at the thought before openly checking him out. Eyes perusing his body up and down in a slow and thorough examination.

"Are you checking me out?" He asks amused as he folds his arms across his chest, making his already impressive biceps look even bigger and more enticing. She knows exactly what he's doing, he's about as subtle as a bulldozer.

"Yes, I am. Do you need me to turn around again so you can check me out?" She laughs easily as he sputters and tries to deny her claims, once he realizes that she doesn't believe a word he's saying he finally stops, admitting defeat.

"Those are...great shorts." He drawls, gone is the embarrassed act. Now he's freely eying her shorts clad body, eyes hot as they trail up and down her legs.

Shaking her head she smiles at him, "You never answered my question. What are you doing here?" He struts over to her prying her gym bag from her hand and throwing it over his free shoulder. She tries not to get too affected by his sudden closeness, his cologne filling her nostrils with the fresh earthy musk.

"My gym is here. I came to work out. You look like you had the same idea, you should have called me." There he goes again, making space for himself in her life although he has no intention of staying with her. It was cruel and she knows she should cut him off before it's too late.

"I don't think you'll be interested in what I'm doing." She answers walking ahead, holding the gym door open for him. They both show their card to the attendant at the front and the young worker smiles at her before saying, "Your aerial yoga class will be starting in five minutes. It's best to go early and secure a good spot."

She can see Vincenzo's questioning face in her peripheral but she ignores him to nod at the younger woman, tugging her bag off his shoulder and nodding at him in dismissal.

"Enjoy your work out." She climbs the stairs leading to the huge studio where the aerial classes are held. His eyes are like lasers on her back and she already knows that he's going to follow her, he's too intrigued to stay away. That's what she was banking on.

She would get him back for all his jealous tantrums this past week. There were so many places they were probably going to be banned from and all because he didn't know how to play well with others. She's wasn't some toy he could claim. Especially when she couldn't claim him back.

Finding a spot in the corner she puts her bag down on one of the mats that are provided, taking a few moments to do some light stretches. She bends over touching her toes before dipping her head and elongating her neck, then she does a few squats and jumping jacks just to get her blood pumping and her heart racing.

She can feel the exact moment that he comes, it also helps that all the women gasp and she can hear coy giggles about their new guest. She pretends not to notice him, stretching backwards into a perfect handstand holding it for a few minutes before tilting back and planting her feet until she's upright again. She almost loses her composure when she catches his expression in the large windows.

He looks shocked and aroused, neck redder than normal.

All the women settle down when the instructor comes to the front of the room, they have reached the point where he no longer shows them what to do instead he walks around the room correcting their form and giving tips or words of encouragement.

He's a beautiful man, with mocha colored skin and a lean muscled build and the most gorgeous head of coily hair. She has been coming here for months and they've become quite closer as they have a lot in common, most importantly they both love men. When they had run into each other and realized they were staring at the same guy's ass, it was love at first ogle.

When he comes over to greet her she immediately steps into his space with a mischievous grin. Sean grins back looking exasperated already but he still says, "What are you up to? I know that smile Ms. Cha-young." She leans closer certain that Vincenzo is avidly watching her every move. Trailing a finger up his thick bicep she whispers, "Nine o clock, don't look but I need your help to teach him a lesson. Are you up to it?"

Sean starts to turn his head before processing her order and stopping, he stares at her before a devilish look gleams in his bright eyes too.

"You know I'm always up." He replies voice full of innuendos and she fake swoons, bringing her hand to her forehead. "Don't tease me."

He chuckles at her before walking back to the front of the room, none of the other women react to their flirtations used to their antics and everyone already knows that Sean is as gay as the pride flag. Everyone except one fuming Italian.

She can feel his waves of anger crashing across the room and she tugs at the cloth in front of her testing the weight before easily hoisting herself up, letting it cup her bottom as her feet dangle.

She's ready to put on a show.

He hadn't stalked her per se, he'd merely overheard one of the tenants say that they'd seen Cha-young in a nearby studio on weekends so he'd went to see if she really did go there. And then there she was bent over in her car, pert little bottom sticking out the car and he wanted nothing more than to smack the flesh and watch it bounce and jiggle under his hand.

This was why he was so protective, not jealous. Protective. She was too careless with her body and there were salacious men out there ready to take advantage of that, she needed someone like him who had a pure heart to look out for her.

He was allowed to fantasize about spanking her while having a pure heart, it was called having duality.

So he'd followed her into the gym, a little peeved when she abandoned him without a word to attend something called "aerial yoga", he knew regular yoga and if it was anything like that he was very much interested.

In watching her do it.

Turning to the young worker who had been staring a hole in his face, he sent her a charismatic smile before leaning nonchalantly on the counter, he could tell that he had her full attention by the way her mouth fell open.

He almost felt bad, she seemed a bit wet behind the ears. But he wasn't really trying to seduce her so it was fine, he wasn't some old creepy predator.

"Hey, that aerial yoga class am I allowed to watch it? I want to see if it's something I might be interested in." He lies to the younger woman, watching her process his words before answering.

"Well technically that class is restricted for those who signed up..." She trails off looking at him and he smiles brightly, pushing his curly hair off his forehead he had forgo his products today and the way her eyes follow his fingers make him thankful that he did so. "But you won't do any harm by watching, I'm sure it'll be fine. Go on up." She finishes and he throws a mental fist pump, he still had it.

Outwardly he smiles serenely, thanking her before walking up the stairs that Cha-young just disappeared up. It leads to a spacious studio with a wall of gleaming mirrors and huge bay windows overlooking the city. He looks around before his eyes land on her, the reason why he's here.

He swallows a groan as he watches her stretch that slim gently curvy body, she's all smooth lines and feminine appeal. When she starts squatting he can't help but watch those firm cheeks tensing and tightening, he lazily leans back hungrily watching her.

Then he almost swallows his tongue when she bends backwards into a perfect bridge before lifting herself into a handstand, damn she was strong and deliciously flexible. Looking her in the eye was going to be even more difficult now.

His heckles raise when he sees another man approaching her suddenly, a Black man who seems way too familiar with his Cha-young based on the way they both grin and invade the others space. He sneers as he watches them whisper and grin at each other, who was this guy and why were they so close? He releases a sigh of relief when the man finally backs up, going to the front of the room before pressing a button and light soothing music begins to play.

He must be the instructor then. Wonderful. He prays that was the end of the unnecessary touching and standing too close to his lawyer. He doesn't want to have to make a scene.

It isn't the end. Not by a long shot.

The instructor who had introduced himself as Sean easily walked around, stopping every once in a while to correct someone or praise them for having good form. The ladies would preen and thank him and that was it, he would nod before moving on.

Cha-young was the only exception to this rule.

He watches mesmerized as the limber lawyer bends herself into a graceful pose that resembles a swan and he can't fight the images that start flashing in his mind of them in bed, her twisting around him with pieces of cloth. Tying him up and showing him just how flexible she is all night long until they both sore and sated.

When she suddenly releases the cloth and starts tumbling to the ground he finds himself jumping into action shoving the fantasy to the crevice of his mind, legs already moving to catch her before she saves herself with her ankles, her body swinging freely with her face only inches from the floor. His heart skips a beat before it starts chugging along again.

Why was she always worrying him?

"That was perfect Cha-young! You've finally let go of your fear of falling!" Sean praises her walking over and patting her legs, but he doesn't let go after the quick touch. He keeps those grabby hands on her thigh and helps her back up onto the cloth, he thinks that will be the end of it. He's wrong.

He moves her body into a new pose with the cloth wrapped around her shoulder and he glares when a hand runs down her back precariously close to her bottom before rolling back up. He pushes her gently on the cloth harness and she laughs gleefully before she whispers something to the instructor, it's hard to read her lips from this distance but he can make out, "with me."

He understands what she asked for when Sean nods and moves into position.

Sean wraps his arms around the same cloth and suddenly lifts himself off the ground, his face level with her groin and he wants to go over and rip the cloth from the ceiling and strangle the man with it. Then Sean pulls himself up and Cha-young slides out of her seated position, grabbing the cloth too until they're face to face and spinning in lazy hypnotic circles. They both have huge grins on their faces as they move together in perfect harmony, the last straw comes when she wraps her legs around his waist and their bodies are pressed together- he sees blazing red and disconcerting white and then finally pitch black.

He's fleeing before he's even aware of it. Bounding down the stairs, two steps at a time then shoving the entrance door open and letting the surge of cool air ease his anger. If he stayed another second the instructor would be dangling out the window much like that thug before except he wasn't sure if he would be able to pull him back up.

Why was he so anger? She'd looked fine, happy even. She clearly wasn't being taken advantage of. But his rage is bursting at the seams and he jolts when a hand suddenly grips his wrist. Instinctively he turns grabbing the person and slamming them into the nearby wall.

Cha-young looks up at him, face flushed and sweaty.

That will also be burned into his retina.

"You should know better than to sneak up on me." He warns taking deep breaths to suppress some of the frustration he feels looking at her, the memory still fresh in his mind.

"What's wrong with you?" She counters bringing her hands to his shoulders rubbing in a calming motion, "You look pissed. Did something happen?"

He watches her for a second, taking her in seemingly harmless question and recalls her legs wrapped around another man who wasn't him and he wants to punch that fucking handsy instructor right in his smug fac--

Wait.

She was smiling. No, smirking. Right up at him like she knew everything that was racing through his head.

He'd been played.

"Did you have fun?" He asks voice laced with snarkiness and he shoves her harder into the wall, red hot fury brewing in the pit of his stomach. She knew that he was part of the mafia but still acted like this. Did she not have any sense of self preservation?

"Were you jealous?" She asks in a ostentatiously cutesy voice like this is all a hilarious joke and he wants to kiss that damn smug look right off her face. No one has ever dared to treat him like this, acted like he was a joke.

She's playing with fire and he's not opposed to burning her up.

"Do you still think you have the upper hand right now?" He looms over her pushing his pelvis into her and she squeaks at the hardness that pokes into her. To his surprise she eagerly presses back, pulling him in by his waist until they are flushed chest to chest. He doesn't know if an upper hand exists anymore.

"Yes. I do, getting to see you jealous was the highlight of my day. Cute little jealous mafia lawyer."

He snarls at her feeling stupid because of how easily she can play him, and without thinking he wraps his arms around her.

"You looked really cozy with him."

She sniffs before pouting at him, "Yeah and you didn't fight for me at all. Where were the death threats and cold glares? Sean would have pissed his pants." Her giggles only make him angrier because she's seen through him all along.

He stares at her blankly before throwing caution to the wind and leaning down to capture her tempting lips, he runs a hand through her ponytail tugging her head closer to him and she moves easily with him standing on her tiptoes. He closes his eyes ready to put himself out of his misery when he feels a finger in his lips, he blinks his eyes open staring at her perplexed and a bit offended.

"What?"

"Are you staying in Korea?" She talks over him, her finger firm on his mouth.

They both stare at each other and her question spins in his busy mind, thoughts too full of her seductive moves earlier and how badly he wanted to destroy anyone who dared to look at her. He doesn't know why that question is coming up now, at this particular moment when he just wants to kiss her breathless. They can leave the rational thoughts for later, right now there should be more frenzied kissing. But when he tries to push her finger away she grabs his face hard, adamant.

He stares at her and finally he sees the chinks in her armor, gone is the overly confident Cha-young that he's so used to seeing and there's something softer in that stead, the vulnerability that always shrouds over her eyes when they have this reoccurring conversation is back and it leaves him feeling cornered as it always does.

He can't answer that question. The answer should be easy and it had been before her. He was going to take his gold and get the fuck out of this God forsaken country.

That had been the plan pre: Cha-young.

Now that plan was muddled and he could admit that he was jealous of other men stealing her away from him, at least to himself. Could admit that he wanted to wreck her completely, have her screaming in his bed those nimble limbs wrapped around him as he thrust into her over and over and over. But he wasn't ready to admit that he might feel something more than just intense attraction to her. That she had changed all his plans and made him consider settling down, with her. It was insane, he barely knew her and they weren't even in a relationship.

"No. I told you, I'm leaving."

He's a coward. He can admit that too.

She sends him a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes before ducking under his arms.

"Then leave and don't confuse me. I'm not yours to get jealous over. I'll see you Monday."

She doesn't look back, walking straight to her car and speeding away without checking any of her mirrors as she's wont to do despite him constantly reprimanding her for it, he's certain she's over the speed limit.

He punches the wall with a yell, the pain in his fist nothing compared to the pain in his chest. It was a huge mistake coming back here.

#vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #hong cha young #aerial yoga #don't try any of things I wrote about #you might die #i made this all up #man pain #emotional constipation

89 notes · View notes

scribblingfangirl · 4 years

Text

CANDY CANES & SPIDER WEBS | Julie and the Phantoms - Luke Patterson

not my gif!

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Author’s Note: First things first, let’s not start the scene in reverse but with the mention that: Yes, I am aware that Halloween was a few months ago, but since I’m stuck studying for two upcoming exams and procrastinating on my Billy Russo fic I mindlessly wandered through all of my unfinished and forgotten WIPs and found this one - and it spoke to me! So, I hope you have fun with this little, weird and late Halloween thingy.

word count: ~ 1.2k

summary/prompt: alive!AU (2020) - Luke has to wear a Dirty Candy outfit and gets scared by a fake spider

warnings: english is not my first language, therefore, typos and long sentences (this was not beta-read), tw: a teeny tiny mention of being puffy (said in a joking manner and later on confirming that she (you) feels amazing in her (your) body) [if that’s inappropriate for many people I will of course take this fic down and/or change it to something else]

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The entire school was decorated. From the halls and classrooms (yes, much to the suffering of a certain brunette lead guitarist, even the music room) down to the cafeteria and the gym. Black cloths were covering the windows, fake spider webs were put up in all sorts of nooks, crannies and corners, bowls with candy could be found all over and the lights were dimmed. The music was so loud the vibrations did not only move the floor but the bones of the students as well. Well… maybe it wasn’t just the volume, but the fact that the music came from a certain band called Julie and the Phantoms and it was almost impossible not to move your body to their tunes. Or maybe they just felt bad for the lead guitarist who was struggling to jump around in his... rather sparkly Halloween costume.

Earlier during the week, the principal had made an announcement, saying that everybody had to wear at least some sort of Halloween costume to be invited to the schools annual night of terror. Of course, Luke being Luke was not even thinking about the possibility of separating himself from his beloved sleeveless shirts and/or his flannels. Which is why he was very adamant on dressing up as you on Halloween.

“Going as your significant other is going as someone else as well!”

“Fine…but only if I get to choose your outfit.”

“Deal.”

Much to his dismay, he seemed to have forgotten that, in contrast to himself, you did not only own band-shirts, flannels and vans, and looked rather dumbfounded when you handed him the mountain of clothes you chose for him.

“That’s…. no. A definite no from me. This sparkles and has sleeves.”

“I’m sorry, what? There must’ve been a miscommunication. Last time I heard you wanted to go to Halloween as your girlfriend… and well, said girlfriend does not walk around like a wanna-be rockstar from the 90s all the time but is also a member of a girl group called Dirty Candy. So, say hello to a wonderful blue glittering crop top and matching see-through blouse! At least you get to keep your sneakers and the colour matches your eyes. Now chop chop! You promised Julie to fit in one last rehearsal before tonight!”

You could've sworn that you heard him mumble “And that’s why you don’t mess with your enemies” before he closed the bathroom door behind him. Five minutes later you were almost crying from laughter.

“I can’t believe it actually fits you, at least more or less!” you giggled, looking him up and down as he twirled uncomfortably in front of the mirror, staring disbelievingly at himself. “Wait… does that mean that I’m puffy or are you just small?”

“Do not worry Y/N. Even though you obviously actually are the Witch you're dressing up to be, I love you the way you are”, he answered quickly, pecked your lips and ran out of your room, hoping to bypass the looks from your parents. “See you tonight! And don’t be too jealous when I make Dirty Candy look good for once!”

You opened your windows and watched him struggle into the car. Before he could drive off you frowned, as you realized that he never actually answered your question. “Hey! Wait! You are small, right?!” But he just dismissively waved out of the car window as he disappeared from your view.

“He called you puffy?” a shocked Fynn shouted at you over the loud music.

“No, I said it as a joke, but he didn’t exactly call himself small” you shouted back.

"I mean, come on girl! My body is amazing!"

“Nevertheless, that screams for revenge!”

Expectantly you raised your eyebrows and smirked, it was Halloween after all. A night of mischief. “And… oh mighty Flynn. What exactly do you have in mind?”

“Wait and see, wait and see”, she chuckled evilly. “I hope you’re not afraid of spiders.”

An hour later the gym was filled with the steady beat of Flynn's music as she took over as DJ for the rest of the night, while the four band members fled into the safety of the music room.

“They can’t do that! My poor six-string! So broken! So dirty!“ Luke whined as he wiped off the fake blood someone had accidentally spilled onto the guitar when they were pouring it out and smearing it all over the room and windows.

Alex nodded absentmindedly. “This is a mess… I don’t want to be the cleaning personnel tomorrow. All this, just for one lousy night?”

Reggie threw an arm around his friend and patted his shoulder soothingly. “I’m sorry Willie couldn’t make it tonight, but you know what? Julie and I can be just as fun!” he said, linking his other arm with one of Julie’s and dragging both of them outside, into the corridor leading to the gym.

Turning around to face Luke you let out an exasperated sigh and threw your hands to your hips at the scene in front of you. He was sitting, legs crossed (which worked surprisingly well somehow, considering he was struggling to rock out on stage just a few minutes prior), surrounded by the other guitars and basses inspecting them for more fake blood mishaps. “Really Luke? How come you care more about instruments made out of wood and metal, than about a real, warm and loving person waiting for you?”

He didn’t even look up. “I care about you!”

“You wouldn’t even kill a spider for me, but for your six-string, you would touch real spiderwebs”, you protested, suppressing a giggle, when Luke promptly stood up to take some steps towards you and walked right into some fake ones, moving his arms all over the place to get rid of them. "You look like a blue disco ball."

“I do not and I would for you!” he corrected you, as he finally was able to get rid of the majority of the spiderwebs and made a motion to hug you. “The spiders should know better, anyway. I’m the one with the big hands and feet and they’re the wee ones with all the breakable legs!”

As his arms were almost enveloping you, you quickly put a fake spider onto a piece of spider web on his shoulder that he had missed and pushed him away. “Ew! Don’t touch me, you’re sweaty and... bloody! Go wash away the sweat and the spiderwebs first. And while you’re at it, gently pick up the spider on your shoulder, please? Before you throw my clothes into the cleaner and kill the little wee one with the breakable legs.”

“Sp… spider?” It seemed as if he turned his head in slow motion and when he saw the black thing just slightly outside his peripheral vision, he screamed.

He probably didn’t even think clearly when he started to jump around, frantically patting himself on his shoulders. After a while, he just took off the blouse and crop top, threw them on the ground and started to stomp on it. Breathing heavily he then said: “Did I just scream like a woman?”

“Don’t flatter yourself”, a giggling Flynn said, coming in through the door, followed by Reggie, Julie and Alex who were doubling over at the sight of the topless guitarist. “You might have been wearing the clothes of a woman, yet you still screamed like a little girl.”

Now you couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore either. “Do not worry Luke” you mocked him, “I love you just the way you are. Small and full of fear.”

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davidpastrsnack · 4 years

Text

three times brady stayed quiet, one time he didn’t - brady tkachuk

a/n: i have such a soft spot for brady and this is the result. some really soft friends to lovers, but i also left the possibility for a smuttier part 2 if you guys are interested. i hope you enjoy (especially my fellow brady girls) and please let me know what you think!

word count: 5618

one

After just barely getting through your final assignments of the last grueling week of school, it was finally time for the best part of the year: summer with the Tkachuks. Your dad grew up with Keith outside of Boston, the two maintaining a close relationship despite the distance that kept them apart for so long. For as long as you could remember, you and your siblings had spent the majority of the summer months with them, either on the lakes of Missouri or the oceans of Cape Cod.

The busy hum of voices and speakers was all you heard, your tired body dragging through the airport, iced coffee in hand hoping it would give you even just another ounce of energy. You finally reached your gate, sitting down on the cool leather seat to wait for your boarding call.

Your siblings were already in St. Louis, having finished school before you, and you were the last one to arrive before the commencing weekend of the summer. You knew you were in for a wild ride if the Snapchat stories of your older brother and Matthew getting up to no good were any indication.

Just as you adjusted your headphones and felt your eyelids flutter shut, your phone buzzed, pulling you from your daze.

Brady: I got held up here for another day, but should be there tomorrow

Brady: Don’t miss me too much

You rolled your eyes at the screen, laughing as you saw his words and your brain automatically translated them into his voice. You considered all of the Tkachuks to be like family, but Brady was different, he always had been. Since day one he was constantly looking out for you, even more so than Matthew and your brother. He always had an eye on you, that eye becoming more and more threatening to everyone else as he grew into his now 6’4”, 200lbs frame.

Don’t worry, I’ll have Matthew to keep me company :)

You smiled as you typed out your response, throwing back exactly what he had dished out. You couldn’t deny that your relationship had become more flirtatious over the recent years, but you always assumed it was just the teasing nature of the Tkachuk household. If he was going to chirp you, you were going to chirp right back. But the banter had always flowed seamlessly, both of you knowing the other so well. You weren’t always clear on the motivation behind some of his comments, but it didn’t hurt to have a little fun with him.

You finally boarded the plane, your flight not taking long before you were stepping out in the thick Missouri air. To say you were exhausted was an understatement, your eyes barely staying open as you searched for the black Audi you knew would be arriving any minutes. Just a few moments later you saw the luxury sedan turn the corner, a brown mop of curls sitting behind the wheel.

“There she is,” Matthew yelled, pulling you in for a hug after stepping out of the front seat.

“Hi Matthew,” you hummed, “Thanks for getting me.”

“Of course, Y/N, anything for my future sister-in-law,” he teased, that cocky smirk on full display while he grabbed your suitcase.

You didn’t even acknowledge his comment, moving right along to get in the car and ask him how his season was. You were far from a stranger to his jokes, but you were not in the mood today and he seemed to pick up on it. So he gave it up for the ride, instead catching up on how you were doing otherwise since he had last seen you. All jokes aside, Matthew truly cared for you like family, especially considering he was dead serious about you eventually being his sister-in-law.

After stopping for food on the way, you finally arrived at the house, Matthew pulling into the lit driveway as you took off your seatbelt. Chantal was waiting by the front door, immediately giving you a tight hug when you walked in. She was basically your second mother, always taking care of you as if you were one of her own.

“Y/N! How are you, sweetie?” she exclaimed, urging you to follow her into the kitchen.

“I’m good,” you responded while sitting down at the counter next to Matthew.

“She’s exhausted mom,” Matthew deadpanned before you could continue.

You rolled your eyes at his words, a smile growing on your lips as you quickly fell back into the comfort of this home.

“I’m okay, really,” you assured Chantal.

“Oh honey, come on,” she grabbed your backpack and gestured for you to follow her upstairs. “All of the guestrooms are full right now with Matthew’s friends but they’re leaving tonight. Just go ahead into Brady’s room, I’m sure he told you he’s still in Ottawa until tomorrow.”

You nodded, “Yeah, he did.”

She led you down the hall, as if you didn’t know exactly where you were going, and opened the door to his room. The same hockey memorabilia was scattered across the walls and the closet was slightly open, the clothes he left here during the season poking out.

“Just relax in here, sweetie. The sheets are clean and there are towels in the bathroom. I’ll check in with you in a little bit, okay?”

“Thank you so much,” you smiled, pulling her in for another hug before she headed back downstairs.

No matter how much time you had spent in this room, something about being in there without Brady felt wrong. But the exhaustion of the travel day and the past week didn’t let you think about it too much, instead telling you to go take a shower and change into fresh clothes. You didn’t mean for it to happen, but the second you laid across the bed you were down for the count.

-----

When Brady opened his door after arriving home the next morning, his jaw nearly hit the floor. Chantal told him that you were in there, but there was no preparing himself for the sight in front of him. You were still fast asleep, but the covers were mostly thrown off your body. He smiled to himself as he remembered that you always get too hot while you sleep. The oversized t-shirt you were wearing was bunched at your waist, your tiny sleep shorts riding up your hips giving him the perfect view of your ass. Your head was nuzzled into his pillow, your hands resting in front of you as if you should be holding someone and your lips pouted as you slept. He had seen you asleep countless times before, but something about you being in his bed waiting for him like this was taking his breath away today. He thought about what it would be like if things were different. He could slide under the covers behind you, slip his rough hands around the soft skin of your waist, kiss your collarbone and neck as you giggled in his grasp, moving one of his hands lower and lower until-

“Fuck,” he mumbled, losing grip of his phone as he was distracted by his awe of you, the metal slipping out of his hand and falling against the hardwood floor. He scrambled to grab it without dropping his bags or waking you up. But it was too late, your sleeping frame stirred at the sudden noise, lifting your head to see what it was.

“Brady?” you questioned, your voice laced with sleep and your eyes squinting as they adjusted to the morning light pouring through the windows.

“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry I just- mom told me you were in here,” he spoke, afraid it looked like he had just been staring at you, which of course he had been.

“Don’t be sorry Brades, it’s your room,” you laughed as you sat up, adjusting your shirt when you realized how exposed you were.

He laughed too, trying to shake off whatever awkwardness had infected him this morning and not let his eyes trail down your frame.

“Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to come give me a hug?” you grinned.

Brady shook his head smiling as he made his way towards you, sitting on the edge of the mattress and pulling you in. His body relaxed as you wrapped yourself around him, your touch and scent overwhelming his senses.

You could feel the tension leaving his shoulders as your hands traced the curls at the base of his neck, “You okay?” you whispered.

He pulled back at your words, piercing blue eyes meeting yours. “I’m fine,” he paused, wondering if he should come clean about everything right now. But he decided it wasn’t worth freaking you out on day one of the summer, “I just missed you, that’s all.”

A soft smile crept on your lips, hearing him say that he missed you as much as you missed him warming your heart.

“Come on, I’m hungry,” you said as you grabbed his hand, a playful scoff leaving his mouth as he trailed behind you towards the stairs, the energy between the two of you starting to return to normal.

two

After everyone had finally arrived and settled in, it was time for the first house party of the season. The mere thought of this moment had given you the motivation to finish your exams, so it went without saying that you could not be more excited. Keith and Chantal were out of town for the weekend, putting Matthew in charge of making sure everyone stayed safe. You were finishing getting ready in one of the guest rooms, which you had almost moved into for the summer after the one night in Brady’s. You went for a simple outfit, a white top with jeans and sneakers before heading downstairs to join the growing crowd.

You were surrounded by faces as soon as you made your way down, some familiar and some not. Your eyes scanned the room for your friends, knowing your close friend Emily had already arrived. You finally found her standing in one of the corners and you turned to go meet them.

“Long time no see,” you beamed when you arrived at their circle, the girls jumping to hug you as they saw you for the first time since last August. It was great to catch up with everyone, but you quickly realized that you forgot to get a drink.

“Em, I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you spoke to which she nodded.

“I’ll come with,” she urged, reaching for your hand as you both walked towards the kitchen.

“So you look hot tonight,” she grinned, speaking in your ear so you could hear over the music. “I bet he finally makes his move later.”

“Who?” you challenged, but she didn’t need to say another word for you to know who she was talking about.

“Y/N, please just save it,” Emily rolled her eyes, “Look, he’s already drooling over you,” she gestured towards where Brady was sitting around a table with Matthew and some of their old friends from hockey. She was right, he was looking right at you, waving when you made eye contact. You gave a small wave back before quickly turning your body away from him to face Emily.

“He always watches me at parties,” you reasoned.

“Yeah, because he’s in love with you,” she scoffed, pouring two drinks into red solo cups.

“Because he’s a good guy, Emily,” you rebutted before taking a far too large sip of whatever she made.

Meanwhile, across the room, Brady was facing the same kind of comments from his friends. As soon as he saw you cross the room with Emily he couldn’t peel his eyes away. You were practically glowing, your smile wide as the stress from the school year finally seemed to disappear from your mind.

“Really Tkachuk?” he heard from next to him, his head snapping away from you to look at the voice.

“What?” he questioned, his challenge laced with attitude.

“Y/N? Still?” his friend Jack responded.

Brady just shook his head in annoyance. He didn’t have the energy for this conversation tonight.

“As long as the sky is blue, Brady will be falling at the feet of Y/N,” Matthew chimed in, a smirk gracing his lips as he hid behind his solo cup.

Brady maintained his silence, hoping they would get bored and move on, but not so fast.

“So you aren’t hitting it?”

He thought he was mad before, but nothing compared to the pure anger Brady felt at this comment. It was Nick, a kid he had never liked through all the years they played together in St. Louis. He was fuming, Matthew swore he could see smoke coming out of his ears as he waited for his brother's response, getting ready to step in if necessary.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Nick?” Brady started, turning his body towards him and sitting up straight. “Am I hitting it? You’re talking about my childhood best friend, show some fucking respect.”

Nick looked stunned, his eyes wide as Brady glared at him. “Dude, I-,”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, moving to stand up so he towered over him. “You wanna know why no girl will ever come within ten feet of you? It’s because of shit like this, Nick. You’re a complete asshole and you don’t deserve a thing from any woman,” he scolded.

By this point, Brady had drawn the attention of many, nearly all of the guests staring at the commotion, including you.

Your face dropped as you saw him yelling, concern written all over your face as your brows furrowed in his direction. He finally seemed to calm down, his eyes looking defeated as they locked with yours. With one more look at Nick, he shook his head in disgust before walking towards the back of the house, the door slamming shut behind him.

The room was nearly silent, everyone looking at each other to see if they knew what just happened.

“Everything’s fine guys,” Matthew urged, the party resuming at his words. Your eyes met his and before you could even make it over to ask what that was he was gesturing towards the door for you to follow Brady.

You nodded, discarding your drink on the counter and rushing to him. You slowly opened the backdoor, searching for his blond curls. You quickly found him alone on the patio, sitting on the outdoor couch with his head thrown back against the cushion, and his eyes closed.

“Brady?” you whispered.

His eyes shot open at your voice, “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. Even though he knew it was impossible, part of him was hoping you didn’t see that.

You didn’t say anything but rather moved towards him, stepping over his legs so you could sit next to him. He stayed silent, just swinging his arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his frame. You sighed as your head rested against his chest, waiting for him to talk when he was ready.

After almost ten minutes, Brady finally spoke, “Nick is an asshole,” he muttered.

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at his words, lifting your head to look at him, but he was still staring straight ahead. He didn’t know if he could keep it together if his eyes met yours.

“Brady,” you muttered, “What happened?”

“He just said something I didn’t like.”

“Come on, Brades,” you pleaded, hoping he would finally give in and tell you what happened.

But instead, he shook his head, “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” he snapped, instantly regretting his reaction when he felt your body flinch at his tone. He sighed, letting out a breath it felt like he had been holding for hours, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just-”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. You had no idea what was going on with him, but regardless, it was clear that he needed you. You laid your head back down on his shoulder, smiling to yourself as you felt him press a kiss to the top of your hair.

three

It had felt like forever since you had been on a proper date, the college lifestyle not always being conducive to it. But now here you were, getting ready to go out to dinner with the guy next door, Tommy. The two of you had been friendly for years, getting to know him more and more with each summer you spent with the Tkachuks. You definitely were surprised when he asked you out, but you didn’t see the harm in taking him up on his offer.

And to be completely honest, part of you was getting frustrated at your situation with Brady. It was a cycle that started over each summer. You entered June denying that there was even a hint of anything more than friendship, but by July you were sucked right back under his spell, until August came and you were ripped apart from each other yet again. Clearly nothing was different about this year, so it was time you tried to move on and enjoy your summer in, well, other ways.

You slipped into a dress, casual but still cute, and tied your white sneakers. You walked over to your window to see both Matthew and Brady’s cars sitting in the driveway. Great, you thought. This would be much more painless if they weren’t home, but of course, the world was not on your side. You did one last hair and makeup check before grabbing your bag and heading down the stairs, feigning total confidence as you grew closer to the boys.

They were laying across the couch playing video games, both of their eyes darting straight to you as you tried to sneak out the front door.

“It’s rude not to say goodbye,” you heard Matthew yell from behind you.

“Fuck,” you silently mouthed, turning to move into the living room where they sat.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you guys there!” you lied through your teeth.

Matthew’s face scrunched up at your excuse, knowing there was no possible way you didn’t see them.

“Where are you going?” Brady asked, his voice much softer than his brothers, almost like he knew what he was about to hear.

“Um, I’m going to dinner with Tommy,” you said, trailing off at the end as the awkwardness set in the room.

No matter how much you tried to deny it, you saw the way Brady’s face fell at your words. The guilt suddenly hit you like a truck, but then again it wasn’t like he was doing anything to change the status of your relationship.

“Tommy?” Matthew questioned, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah,” you stalled, “I don’t know, he asked me and I said yes.”

“Interesting,” he muttered, looking at his younger brother who was pretending to be enthralled in the game.

“Alright well, I’ll see you guys later,” you said, standing as you waited for Brady’s response, but it never came.

Matthew sensed the obvious tension, doing whatever he could to break it, “Have fun Y/N, but not too much,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, finally moving to open the door, not at all minding that it slammed behind you.

As soon as you were out the door, Matthew pulled the controller out of Brady’s hand. He couldn’t watch this anymore.

“What the fuck, Matt?” he shouted, his emotions high after watching you leave.

“No, I should be asking you that,” he threw back. “What the fuck are you two doing?”

Brady sighed, running his hands over his face before holding his heavy head in his palms. He didn’t know what he was doing. For so many years he was terrified of telling you how he felt. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, he didn’t know if your friendship could ever recover and he was not taking that risk. But this year it was all too much, you were perfect for each other and everyone around you knew it too. How could he blame you for trying to find someone else when he couldn’t even muster up the courage to tell you the truth?

“I don’t know, Matt,” he started, his words muffled by his hands, tears prickling the back of his eyes.

Despite teasing him about you for so long, Matthew’s heart broke as he saw his brother in so much distress over this.

“Just tell her. I promise you it will work out,” he encouraged, placing a comforting hand on Brady’s shoulder. “Anyone with eyes can tell that you two are made for each other. It’s gross, actually.”

Brady let out a laugh at Matthew’s chirp, finally picking his head up, “But now I have Tommy to worry about.”

Matthew scoffed, laughing as he spoke, “Yeah, because Y/N really seems like the type to throw away her entire relationship with you over one date with Tommy, of all people.”

-----

Your night was going well, but you just couldn’t shake the look on Brady’s face from your mind; he was hurt.

Tommy was sweet, making you laugh throughout dinner, but you knew you had no intention of seeing him, like this, again. After leaving the restaurant, he suggested you got ice cream and walked around the city, to which you agreed. You felt bad for leading him on, but part of you was dreading arriving back to the house. You were sitting on a bench taking in the view of the city and talking about plans for the year when you felt him shift his body closer to yours. His intentions were clear, and your heart dropped at the realization that you were going to have to let him down much earlier than anticipated.

Just as you were trying to find the right words to tell him, he placed his hand high on your thigh and he leaned in to kiss you. You immediately flinched, pulling your face far away from his.

“Tommy, I- I’m sorry,” you whispered.

A dark chuckle came out of his mouth and you could feel the energy change, the air growing thick with tension.

“Seriously?”

His much larger frame than yours suddenly became quite intimidating as he leaned over you, clearly not taking the rejection well.

“I’m sorry,” you continued, “I just don’t think this is going to happen.”

“Unbelievable,” he shook his head at you, your body pushing back into the bench in an attempt to get as far away from him as possible. “This is about Tkachuk, isn’t it? I should have known you would only be interested in the fame and money,” he mumbled with another laugh.

His words slapped you across the face, your eyes burning as you felt the tears try to push their way out. In all the years you had known him, you never had the slightest idea that Tommy had such a cruel side to him.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you rebutted, “Get away from me, Tommy.”

“No problem, darling,” he smiled, standing up and walking away, leaving you stranded on the street downtown.

Your head fell into your hands, the cold evening breeze riding under your dress. Your mind instantly started listing all the reasons why this was your fault, but deep down you knew it wasn’t. After sitting there in defeat for a few moments, you finally pulled out your phone, dialing the only number that ever mattered.

It seemed like hours later when you finally saw the black SUV pull up on the street in front of you. Before you could even stand up, Brady was running out of the car towards you. Your emotions got the best of you once he was by your side, your body collapsing into his as the tears fell.

“What the hell did he do?” he questioned while rocking you back and forth in his arms.

You couldn’t find the words to answer.

“Y/N, you’re freezing,” he spoke as he felt your cool skin against his, “Come on,” he urged, grasping your hand to guide you to the car.

Once you were inside the warm car, he reached into the back seat to find a sweatshirt, handing you the soft material.

“Thank you,” you whisper, scared your voice would betray you as you slipped the fabric over your head, the scent of his cologne comforting you right away.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Brady hissed, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.

“No, you’re not Brady,” you warned, “I had a good night until I didn’t. We just had different ideas of how it was going to end,” you scoffed, a sarcastic laugh slipping through your lips.

Brady shook his head, pausing to glance over at you while he was stopped at a light. You were resting against the cool glass, his sweatshirt pooling around your hips, the fabric of your dress peeking from beneath it. The light finally turned, your face now illuminated in green and he only had one thought.

He would never treat you like that.

plus one

Despite his conversation with Matthew, Brady still had yet to say anything to you. You assured him time after time that you were okay after Tommy, but he didn’t want his confession to seem reactionary. You deserved more than that.

The plan tonight was for everyone to go out to one of the hotspots in town, but you weren’t feeling it. Everything that happened the night before had you even more consumed with your thoughts about Brady, and you needed a night of just nothing. The voices from downstairs carried while the boys were getting ready to leave, their laughter making you smile as you walked into the kitchen. They were so wound up all year long and it was refreshing to see them truly relaxing.

You drew their attention right away as you entered the room, their brows furrowed in confusion as they took in the sweats you were wearing.

“Y/N!” one of them howled, “We’re going soon, hurry up!”

You laughed as you turned to face him, the voice belonging to Jack.

“I’m not going Jack,” you explained, opening the fridge to look for something to satisfy your late-night craving.

“But you have to come, you’re so fun,” he whined.

“I promise I won’t be that fun tonight. Just go enjoy yourselves, I’ll be here waiting to make sure you all get back in the house alive,” you jested.

“I’ll stay,” you heard from behind you. You didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

You finally rotated your body, meeting his gaze right away. He looked good. His black jeans hugged his thighs perfect, the matching black t-shirt fitting around his biceps like a glove. He towered over your, those bright blue eyes piercing into yours. He was close enough for you to take in his cologne, the scent immediately clouding your senses.

“I’m fine, Brady,” you reasoned, shaking yourself out of your daze, “Seriously, go.”

He didn’t speak right away, instead he gave you a knowing look. You gave him the same look right back, challenging him to go against you.

“Matt,” he called, not breaking eye contact, “I’m gonna stay.”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness but you were just thankful that you had a reason to look away, praying that the heat you were feeling hadn’t made its way onto your cheeks.

“Alright,” Matthew responded, not even bothering to question the two of you at this point.

The boys flooded the front door, all yelling goodbye before they piled into the Ubers waiting outside. A heavy silence fell over the house, your body leaning against the kitchen counter as you waited for Brady to say something.

“I’m just gonna change,” he spoke, gesturing to the staircase. “Put a movie on, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Just a few minutes later he returned, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. You were laying across the couch, the movie already playing as he sat down next to you.

“Cold?” he asked, already knowing that you were by the way you wrapped your arms around your middle.

“A little,” you mumbled, smiling as he covered the two of you in a blanket, squeezing your frame as he pulled it closer to his own.

You stayed like that for a while, your body resting nearly completely on top of his, your leg swung over his lap and your head nuzzled into his chest. Any tension that was there before seemed to have disappeared, both of you returning to your normal states.

But just seconds later, the screen flashed to a bedroom, the two main characters in the middle of what could be referred to only as a passionate, graphic sex scene. You immediately felt Brady tense beneath you, your cheeks flushing bright red at his response. It took everything within you not to react in any other way, but it felt like your entire body was on fire, begging to be touched. The sounds of the woman’s moans echoed off the walls, her face contorting in pleasure as the man continued. There was no denying that the image triggered a throbbing pressure between your legs, your brain fighting your body’s instinct to grind against his thigh.

Brady’s stomach dropped when he processed what was happening, the woman undressing on the screen making his mind wander to doing the same thing with you. He wanted to touch you like that, he wanted to make you scream his name like that, make you fall apart like that because no one knew you as well as he did. But his imagination was far too vivid, and he internally cursed himself as he felt his pants become tighter and tighter.

This has to be the longest sex scene in the history of all film, you thought to yourself as it continued, seemingly never-ending. Your hand was growing sore from its position under your head, so you gently shifted your body in hopes of getting more comfortable, but what you got was something else entirely.

Your breath hitched when you felt it, unable to disguise your reaction. You were situated over his lap, your lower thigh brushing against his crotch and you could feel just how hard he had become beneath you. You froze, not knowing what to do or say, if anything at all.

“Y/N,” he whispered, preparing to apologize, afraid he had made you so uncomfortable that he couldn’t recover.

You knew he was beyond embarrassed, but something inside you had been ignited and you couldn’t ignore it any longer. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you swung your hips over his, moving to straddle him while you grabbed his face, pulling it to yours. He tensed again in pure shock, but it didn’t take long for him to relax against you, his hands circling your waist as he pushed you back down into his lap. Your lips moved together in perfect synchrony, a small whimper slipping out from your mouth as he bit your bottom lip between his teeth. He groaned into you at the sound, his hands sliding lower so he could grind you into his length, in desperate need of hearing you more. You had one hand tugging at the nape of his neck, the blond curls feeling like silk between your fingers, while the other slipped underneath his shirt, running your cool fingertips across his flexing abs.

You were both so lost in the moment, ready to rip each other's clothes off at any second when Brady finally pulled back.

“Wait,” he gasped, running his large hands across your thighs as he gathered his thoughts.

Your breathing was labored, trying to catch your breath as you took in the sight below you. His lips were pink and swollen, his cheeks had a bright red tinge, and his blues eyes were staring at you in awe.

“What?” you questioned, insecurity suddenly flooding your mind, your body separating from his as you leaned away.

“No no no,” he cooed, urging you to come back close to him. You obliged, your eyes scanning his face in hopes of deciphering what he was thinking.

“I just- if we’re going to do this,” he gestured between your bodies, “We have to do... this,” he whispered as he looked up at you, what he meant perfectly clear to you. “I want you, but I want all of you.”

You smiled at his words, the anxiety washing off his face as he saw your reaction.

“Brady, I have wanted this for longer than I can even remember,” you beamed, your hands cupping his cheeks, thumbing running over the soft skin. “I want all of you, too.”

“Yeah?” he grinned.

“Yeah,” you laughed.

He pulled you back down to meet his lips, your teeth clashing as you both smiled into the kiss.

“Well then,” he smirked, “If you don’t mind, I’m taking you upstairs.”

He wrapped his palms around your thighs, holding you as he stood up. You shrieked at the sudden movement, laughing as your legs circled his waist. He held you impossibly close to his body, terrified to let you go now that he had you.

“Please, Brady,” you whined against his skin, “Take me upstairs.”

“Fuck,” he breathed out.

That was all he needed to hear to rush up to his room, more than ready to show you exactly how much he had loved you since day one.

part two here

#brady tkachuk #brady tkachuk imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #my writing

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awhphooey · 4 years

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Ok so I feel bad bc the design team probably worked hard on this but I just... really don’t see it as a Lena outfit so here’s my redesign thing to make it more like Lena? Or what I think Lena would wear?

I kept her hair one color like her original design, but used the blue from her new hair. The eyes are still blue but less sparkly bc it was throwing me off.

I used the blue from her shirt thing over the light grey of her og sweater bc... Lena in a skirt or flowy shirt doesn’t vibe w me for some reason?

I let her keep the fingerless gloves and pants (but made the pants the dark grey of her og sweater) and I gave her white boots like the new design but made them lace up like her sneakers.

#dt spoilers #ducktales spoilers #lena sabrewing #redesign #i actually feel like really bad doing this please dont attack me or smth #im not trying to say the design is bad #i just dont vibe w it personally #if you like it thats great but i just cant

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callmeelle22 · 3 years

Text

Blue Dream VII

Pairing: Iris West x Barry Alen

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count: 9, 034

Summary: A series of sporadic dates between Iris and Barry turn into something more, a story in its own making.

Chapter I: Primetime

Chapter II: It's Cool

Chapter III: Anything

Chapter IV: Comfortable

Chapter V: The Way

Chapter VI: Say Yes

Chapter VII: Brave; They fuck with the rain like a soundtrack behind them, like a song that swells and stretches, telling their story, but you're so brave; stone cold crazy for loving me; yeah, I'm amazed; i hope you make it out alive, a song that rises and rises, that sounds too good to be real, that might destroy you, but only in the best way. (Read below or on AO3 linked on the chapter title.)

Chapter VIII: Blue Dream

Brave

Broken hearts are made for two

One for me and one for you

Tell me have you heard the news

We are now in love

Fall break from school is scheduled during the last three days of the last week of October. Before she can take some time off, Iris has midterm articles to write and grade. Barry is busy testing DNA samples or whatever it is CSIs do so they don’t see each other for several days after he leaves her house the morning after Wally’s party.

On the Wednesday of Fall Break, the first day off, Iris lets herself sleep in until almost 10, and then she packs up her bag, stuffing a notebook, a couple of pens, and her laptop in, before dressing comfortably in a pair of dark leggings, and a white oversized CCU hoodie she stole from her brother. Throwing on a pair of white low-top Chuck Taylors, Iris heads out to Jitters. It’s a rainy day, and other than workers who’ve no choice, not many people are out. A storm is brewing for later in the night, the sky dark and cloudy, but for the moment, it’s just a steady rain that has Iris walking carefully to her car and driving a lot slower, thanking her lucky stars that she finds a parking spot right in front of the coffee shop.

Back in high school, especially once her dad had gotten her a used car during the beginning of senior year, Iris and Linda would come to Jitters to do homework or stare at the college boys who would come in. The coffee shop has expanded since then, buying the small antique store that had been next door and adding more seating and a bar that specializes in alcoholic coffee brews. It’s still one of Iris’s favorite places to work because now the manager is a young Black woman with wild curly hair always dyed in one bright color or another and a soft spot for mid to late 90s R & B female singers. The shop is comfortable, with couches and overstuffed chairs in mismatched browns and beiges and blues set up near the walls and windows and several tables, two- and four-tops, taking up the space in the middle. Two of the walls are exposed brick and the others are painted stark white and feature framed prints in wild colors. It’s changed since she was a child, but Iris likes to think that she’s changed with it, that as this integral part of Central City has grown and added light and color and comfort, so too has Iris.

Today, her plan is to outline at least two entire stories from interviews she’s completed over the last couple of weeks before she even thinks about leaving the coffee shop. She settles into one of her favorite spots, a soft navy armchair behind a small circular table. She sets up her laptop, her notebook with her notes, her pens, and once a waiter drops off her brown sugar latte and a chocolate muffin, she lets the sound of the rain, and the Erykah Badu playing on the speakers, get her into her work.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Iris looks up just as Barry stops beside her. She’s been at Jitters for just over three hours now, and her shoulders are cramped and she’s coffee high and hungry. The rain is still pounding down, so hard that it looks like it’s raining sideways, and Iris curses her inability to get any work done in her own home. Besides all that, she’s reeling. She’s just outlined a story of a man explaining the story of the woman he’d loved his entire life: from growing up together in a small city in North Carolina, to becoming best friends and de facto siblings when his parents died and her dad agreed to foster him; from not dating but seeming like it in high school, to falling for other people in college; from having other spouses and children to one night of passion before they found their way back to each other when she decided to leave her husband after his wife died. It was a ride from start to finish, such a roller coaster of feelings—of love and pain and joy and heartbreak—that make Iris feel a bit heavy with them, a little loopy with them.

Barry stands to the side of her, towering above her, in as simple an outfit as what she’s wearing, a pair of black joggers and a white sweatshirt. She’s startled that he's there because she figures that he should be at work, but her heart does tick up at the sight of him. That is, until she lets her eyes rake over his lean frame. He looks a little...down, like a physical manifestation of the story she’s just outlined. His hair is messier than usual and his eyes aren’t carrying their usual sparkle, in addition to the darkening bags that frame them. He’s also a little stubbly, his jaw covered in a fine layer of coarse hair, his pallor a bit ashen.

(Iris will also admit that she thinks he looks sort of, well, good, like this; but that’s neither here nor there and she feels terrible—and maybe a bit perverted—that she’s lusting after him when he’s obviously going through something.)

“Hey,” she responds softly, and she stands up to assess him further. He seems so much taller than her like this, when they’re both in sneakers. She hasn’t seen him since the morning after Wally’s party a week ago when he dropped her back off at her car after spending the night at her place. They’ve talked a bunch and FaceTimed once, but she’s missed him. She reaches up into his hair, rubbing at his scalp a little until his eyes close and he lets out a soft little moan. She keeps at it and then touches gingerly at his face, at some of the moles dotting his cheeks, at the stubble he’s grown. He reaches up to stop her, eyes still closed, and it startles her a little bit. She goes to pull her hand back, but then he holds on to her wrist to bring her hand down and presses a kiss to her knuckles.

She’s never seen him like this. He’s always so open and, maybe not happy, but never so melancholy. There is always a pep to his step, as her grandma used to say, a smile on his face that always said that he feels some sort of contentment in his life. And obviously, people are allowed to have days like this. But it does something to Iris, to see him this way. She wants to lash out at whoever has made him look like this, like he’s drowning in emotions that he can’t easily pull himself out of.

“Bear, you okay?”

He nods, a little woefully, and he catches her eyes again. She bites at her lip as she stares back at him and, on impulse, she leans up to kiss him. It’s just a little more than a peck, something to tell him that she’s there with him; but he takes it a step further, kissing her harder, biting at her lip enough that there’s more pain than she’s expecting. She moans at him and he pulls back, breathing labored.

“I’m sorry,” he speaks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s fine,” she says. “You didn’t hurt me. Well, a little, but I didn’t hate it.”

That gets a more real smile out of him, and he thumbs at her bottom lip. “Hmm, I guess my good girl is a little bad.”

Iris rolls her eyes and gives him a look, sobering for a minute. “Bear, what’s up? You okay?”

He doesn’t answer her question. Instead, he nods at her table and asks, “you get a lot of work done?”

She eyes him, wanting to ask again. But she knows how she is when she doesn’t want to talk about something and so she lets it go. For the moment.

“Yeah. Or, at least, I’ve done most of what I set out to do.”

He nods, casts his eyes out of the glass, looking at the rain for a moment, watching it fall in heavy sheets. Normally, Iris likes the rain. It’s soothing and she enjoys how it makes the world take a moment to slow down. When she was a little girl, her grandma (her dad’s mother who grew up somewhere at the bottom of Georgia) used to say that when it was raining, and particularly when it was storming, that the Lord was doing His work and that it was the time to be still. They’d have to sit quietly, usually with the TV and the lights off, and just be. And while life doesn’t allow her to drop everything because it’s started raining, there is always a hushed feeling that comes over her when it rains, something tranquil, but also a little turbulent, a little uncontrollable, quite like the very rain she’s reveling in.

“Wanna come over?” he wonders, voice unsure.

She nods readily. “Okay, yeah. Sure.”

He goes to return her mug and plate while she packs her bag back up. He meets her at the door, opening up a large umbrella and throwing an arm over her shoulder to lead her out into the rain. She walks with him past her own car as he takes her a short black away to where his Jeep is parked. He helps her into the Jeep first, watches as she tucks her bag under the seat, and then closes the door before walking around to the other side.

They ride to his house in silence. He lives far on the south side of town, a good twenty or so minutes from downtown if they hit the highway. Instead, he takes the streets, adding another ten minutes to their drive. Iris doesn’t mind; as she said, she likes the rain, and in this big Jeep, tires sluicing easily through the flooding roads in a way her car definitely can’t, she’s enjoying the ride. He had silently connected her phone to his car’s Bluetooth, so she took it to mean that the music choices were hers. She contemplates finding something that he might like, but she figures he likely wouldn’t even be paying much attention. So she decides on one of her slower playlists, ones with songs that dip and fade, that take listeners on a journey of highs and lows, and she lets it play. The lyrics tell too much, so i guess that i should mention; that i am in no condition; to put you in this position; i might fuck this up, although with the heavy weight on Barry’s shoulders right now, she can’t tell if she’s talking to him or vice versa.

He takes them past one of the major shopping districts in the city, past the Apple store and the Michael Kors shop and the one restaurant her dad took her to when she graduated college where pasta dishes run nearer to forty dollars. These shops, and the nicer mall and a couple business buildings that rise as tall as those downtown, lead into longer stretches of road where trees interspersed with beige or cream apartments begin to take up where businesses once stood. He turns into the familiar subdivision that she remembers; it’s a little older than some, which makes sense if his parents were able to buy and pay it off before they were gone. That also means that none of the houses are the same cookie-cutter versions that tend to make up most subdivisions these days, where houses are identical save for the color and the trim and what children’s toys litter the front yard.

He presses a button on his visor and the garage opens as he maneuvers the car so that he can back up into the driveway. He stays in the driveway, though, the music cutting out—but whatever the case, you're my favorite mistake; more than happy to make you—when he turns the ignition off. She waits for him to come around with his umbrella and he half picks her up to pull her out, holding on to her as he walks her through the garage.

She’s as quiet as he is, taking in her surroundings, trying to get a better sense of who he is by what he’s got going on in his house. There isn’t much in the garage; there are a bunch of boxes neatly stacked on one wall, a couple bicycles in another corner. There is a wall full of tools and a couple tables that have science looking tools on them, like a microscope and several bunsen burners and petri dishes, though nothing looks as if they’re currently being used.

He leads her through a door that opens up into the kitchen as he presses another button to close the garage. His house is as cute on the outside as it is on the inside, although she wonders how he might feel if she were to call it cute. The kitchen is large, done in white, gray, and green, with steel appliances, gray marble countertops, and the look of a place that doesn’t get a lot of use. They both stop to toe their shoes off right outside of the kitchen where a couple other pairs of Barry’s shoes lie. His living room is pretty big: a wide space that features a real stone fireplace as the focal point and a large screen television situated above it; a huge sectional in a slate gray with a few throw pillows; and a big square wooden coffee table. It’s masculine and clean without being gaudy or too bro and Iris wonders if he did this himself because even if she never knew her, she doubts a woman who loved flowers as much as his mother would decorate her living room this way.

The dark curtains on the windows are open wide and Iris can see the backyard but the rain coming down in sheets keep her from being able to make out much besides the patio with what looks like a grill and wicker furniture. Iris remembers being told that his dad had been a doctor and his mom some sort of university researcher and the house matches that.

Barry lets her hand go to tug his sweatshirt off, revealing a plain white t-shirt that rises up over his taut belly. She doesn’t avert her eyes, giving herself permission to track how the sweatpants hang off his slim hips and how he isn’t so much sculpted as he’s hard and tight, with just the beginnings of abs. He catches her staring and he smirks at her before dropping down in the corner of the couch, one leg spread out along the seats of the chair.

“Come here,” he tells her, and she moves toward him, sitting so that her back is pressed against that hard chest and his arms are wrapped around her. She grabs a hold of his forearm with both her hands and settles her head in the crook of his elbow. She’s surrounded by his scent, lemongrass and clean cotton, and for a while, the only sounds are his breathing and the pounding of the rain. He touches her, the hand she’s not holding on to stroking up and down her thigh. Her leggings are pretty thin and she feels his touch fully; if she concentrates enough, she can feel those beloved calluses on his hands. He rubs his hand towards the juncture of her thighs and then over her hip and then back again, and like always, his touch ignites something in her, even as she’s wondering how she might be able to help him out of whatever funk he’s found himself in.

“You ready to tell me what’s up?” she wonders a while later.

“Hmm,” he hums, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Not yet. Tell me about your day.”

She shifts so that she can look back at him, noting the way his eyes have darkened a touch, become grayer like the sky outside, and it’s different from the bright blue-green she remembers from the day of the festival or the wicked blue-gray they always are right before he pushes hard into her.

He blinks down at her and licks his lips slowly. It’s not an explicitly sexual act, even if her body thinks it looks that way, and Iris finds herself lost in it, in whatever he’s emanating. It’s erotic in that it’s intimate, a whirlwind of whatever hurt made him seek her out at Jitters, of whatever still lies unexplored between them, of the attraction that doesn’t ever seem to dissipate.

When she pulls herself out, she tells him, “I was working on a story today. One that made me feel a little bit like how you might be right now.”

“Yeah?”

Wanting to look at him more comfortably, she uses his pause so that she can turn around fully and seat herself on his lap, straddling him. His hands automatically go to her hips, one sliding inside the waist of her leggings so that he can touch her skin.

“Tell me about this story,” he requests. She knows that he’s asking so that he can think about something other than what’s on his mind, so she does, giving a little more than she would originally, working out how she might want to tell the story in her blog.

“It was a couple,” she starts, “that grew up together, in the country. They bonded by playing together in the lake, climbing trees, and playing pranks on each other. And then they start to grow up. Their swimming becomes fraught with tension, the bathing suits showing the same skin, but more, ya know, both of them recognizing the differences, cataloging them, thinking about them, remembering them. They don’t act on it, because they’re friends, and he doesn’t actually understand what it means, that he’s 13 and he keeps dreaming about her at night, waking up with a wet bed and a pounding heart. And then his parents die and her dad, who’s a do-gooder in the community and had been his parents’ best friend, takes him in. Now they’re siblings, but of course not. Regardless, it makes it all harder and odder because she sleeps right down the hall from him, their shared bathroom always smells like her, and he understands now, that he likes her smile and the way she speaks and the curves she seems to develop out of nowhere.”

Barry squeezes at her and she pauses as he asks, “And what about her? How does she feel about him?”

“Well he doesn’t know it, but she’s there too. At first she thinks that she’s just conflating it, confusing their friendship. Because she doesn’t laugh with anyone else like she does with him and she never has as much fun with anyone else as she does him and she never feels as comfortable with anyone else as she does him. He’s her best friend. But she sees him, one night, in his room where the door hasn’t fully closed and he’s, well, he’s masturbating, touching himself, eyes closed and moaning, and for the first time outside of the books she’s read, she feels something. And she knows it’s not just because she’s seen him naked because she’s kissed boys before, she’s felt them hard under her before, but something about this feels different for her.

“But she doesn’t act on it. And he doesn’t either, because remember, he only thinks this is one-sided. They graduate. They go to the same college. But their majors are different and their friends are different. She joins a sorority; he gets into a couple of clubs. Their paths separate, even if they still laugh and talk and be when they’re home for the holidays. Then she gets a boyfriend.”

“She never had a boyfriend before this?” Barry questions.

Iris shrugs. “Sure. But it was high school and the beginning of college. They were mostly hookups that didn’t last. This guy is serious. He’s a couple years older, got his own place, and eventually she moves in with him. Heartbroken, he gets a girlfriend too, one of her friends. That doesn’t last long because she figures out that he’s a little bit in love with the main girl, and then he moves on, to someone sweet, someone who’s been not so subtly hinting that she wants to go out with him.”

Barry seems to be engrossed now. She can’t say that the dark look he was sporting is completely gone, but she can see that he’s not as deep in it, interested in the story she’s weaving.

“They go on to marry these people, even if their hearts are not fully in it. His wife has a kid first, her baby comes next. And meanwhile, they’re still friends. Her dad is still his guardian, so to speak; they are together for whatever holidays they don’t spend with their spouses’ families. They still laugh and talk and be. They still look a little too long and want a little too much.

It comes to a head one Christmas. The gods or fate or just some movement on their parts mean that they both go home to her dad’s house with their spouses and children coming in the next day. But her dad is called in to work so they order take out and watch movies in front of a fire. And they laugh and they talk...and they hug and they kiss and they…

“Be?” Barry tries, a tiny little smile on his face.

She matches it. “Yeah. And it’s beautiful, transcendent. But they’re married. To other people. With kids. So they vow to forget it, to never bring it up again. A couple of years pass. They don’t laugh as much, don’t talk as much. She’s having troubles in her marriage. He is too. He actually consults a divorce attorney because he thinks that it’s unfair to both him and his wife, to live like this. And then the wife dies in a car accident.”

“Oh damn,” he mutters.

“Right,” she agrees. “He’s wracked with grief and more than a little guilt, because he loved her but was never in love with her and she had no idea he was going to leave her.”

“What about her? The one he loves?”

“She’s there for him. She consoles him, cares for him, takes his kid when it gets too hard. Her husband doesn’t like it though. Thinks she’s doing too much, thinks that there’s another reason she’s over at his so much. Later, he learns that this wasn’t a new accusation, that even before she and her husband got married, the husband would question their closeness, would wonder what, if anything, had ever happened between them.

“Eventually she gets tired of it. Her kid is older, in their teens now, and she leaves her husband, packing her things and her kid’s too and moving back in with her dad for a while.”

“And what happens between them?” Barry wants to know.

“He and his son come over more. They hang out more, the four of them, going to dinner and to the movies and to the arcade together. And when their kids are gone, at sleepovers or game nights with their friends, they laugh again, talk again. Fall in love again.”

The ending is implied. Iris closes her eyes when she’s done, letting Barry continue to rub at her back, his fingers so so warm on her skin.

“It's a happy ending,” he says, eventually. “But getting there was a little...depressing.”

Iris chuckles softly, lightheaded again at having gone through that again. It likely didn’t make Barry feel any better, but she’ll take the win that it took his mind away from his own problems, if only for a little while.

“Yeah, it is,” she agrees. “But it reminds me that just because it’s not easy and just because it takes some time, it doesn’t mean that things aren’t worth it.”

He nods, slowly, thinking.

“What about things that are...easy? That come like breathing? That start as a simple dance and just, just keep going?”

She stares down at him and she knows that this is rhetorical. She can see the question in the depths of his eyes, feel it in his hands still kneading her flesh. It would be easy to retreat, to tell him that nothing is ever easy, even if the reality is that it is because they are, because they fall into each other so effortlessly, that she’s terrified. There are always hiccups, obstacles, and the fact that she can’t find any keeps her on edge, waiting, anticipating trouble she knows must be coming. She doesn’t want to believe it, wants to stand firm in them—stand firm in the lyrics she keeps hearing, if you decide to stay, know that there is no escape; there's no one here to save you—and she holds onto that as he asks,

“Don’t you think it’s worth it, Iris? Even if it’s this easy?”

She can’t speak, but his eyes are imploring her to answer. Pleading with her for a response. And however terrified Iris is, or however much Iris tells stories, she is not a liar. So she nods and whispers to him, “yes.”

Without waiting for her to say anything more, he kisses her. He squeezes at her waist and leans up to capture her mouth. She meets him with his same fervor and it’s different, this kiss. She knows the passion of his mouth when he’s high, the boldness when he’s teasing her. But this is new, this is fervor, warmth and agony and doubt and pleasure, all wrapped up together.

(Something also tells Iris that there is another word for this, that this is the part of the story where feelings would be laid on the table, where hearts would be splayed open and she’d say it, or he would, and the other would respond in kind, with declarations of adoration, of infatuation, yearning, of any other word that means what she can’t say yet.

But she feels it, what she’s wanting to say, what she thinks he is saying, in this kiss. It is slow and nasty, all tongue and mouth. Her eyes flutter closed at the feeling, at how he licks into her mouth and then sucks on her bottom lip, at how he licks against her tongue and then holds her face to bring her closer to him. She feels it, she feels it, she feels him…)

He stands, holding on to her, and she wraps her legs around his waist, tightening her arms around his neck as he carries her through the house. The kisses don’t stop, though they become shorter, more mouth now, and he takes her down a long hallway past several doors until he turns into one at the end of the hall. She makes a quick note of the light gray and burnt orange decor, the side tables holding books and knickknacks, the one window that spans nearly the entire wall, but she focuses most heavily on the king-sized bed on which he throws on her, the soft comforter half hanging off the bed.

Her clothes come off first, Barry pulling her sweatshirt over her head and yanking her pants over her hips. He comes out of his own clothes as she discards her underwear, and then he’s between her thighs again. But she wants something else first so she taps his shoulder to flip them and then she’s hovering above him.

She gives him a kiss, slow and sweet, and then she makes her way down his chest, kissing as she goes. She loves the feel of his skin against her lips, likes how his skin tastes as she presses tongue kisses on him. His belly clenches and unclenches under her ministrations, and by the time she’s looking back up at him from her position near his crotch, she can see the way his chest rises and falls with his heavy breathing.

She reaches for him, wrapping her fingers around his dick. It’s long like the rest of him, and thicker than she would have expected just looking at him. It’s a pretty dick, the base the same color as him, the head slightly pinker. It’s a little veiny, but the skin is smooth, and already he’s starting to leak. She lifts her eyes to find him watching her, his own gaze hooded. In her peripheral, she sees his hands grip the bed sheets and she revels in how she hasn’t even done anything and his control is starting to slip.

“Tell me what you want, Bear.”

She says the words softly, but Barry doesn’t miss the cheek that lies under it, if the slight smirk he gives her is any indication.

“Your mouth,” he says. “I’ve been dreaming about that pretty mouth wrapped around my dick.”

She shudders at the tone of his voice, at the vision of her on her knees for him. She likes it.

“I bet you have too,” he guesses.

Without a response, she licks him, holding him at the base and running her tongue up one side of him. She does it again, and then one more time, acquainting herself with the taste of him and the satiny feel of him on her tongue, and then she adjusts and covers the whole of him.

“Fuck,” he breathes out.

She hums around him and she sucks him down, taking him until he hits her throat. Then she pulls back until just the tip remains. She licks around his head and sucks him there, letting the spit pool in her mouth, letting it mix with his own wet. She opens her mouth and lets it slide out, dripping down onto him, and her own body starts to drip at his wrecked whisper, “god, baby, look at you.”

She adds her hands, palming his testicles in one and rubbing her spit down the length of him with the other. She finds a rhythm, sucking him down, inch by inch, hollowing her cheeks as she goes, and then stroking his back up. Barry keeps his hand clenched in the sheets, but he cants himself into her mouth, rocking his hips lightly. She’s getting into it, loving the way he responds to her.

“Come here,” he says, suddenly, reaching for her, and she pulls back with a soft pop.

“Barry?” she furrows her eyebrows in question.

He gives her a gentle smile and grabs at her arm; Iris moves at his request, crawling up his body.

“But you didn’t finish,” she says, pouting a little.

“I know. I want to come when I’m inside you.”

She’s mollified by that, and he settles her on his lap.

“You were so good though, baby,” he says, kissing her. “My good, good girl.”

He reaches down to touch her, slipping his fingers easily into her sex. He groans into her mouth at the feel and he pulls back to ask,

“Is this all for me? Did you get wet sucking me off, good girl?”

She nods, rocking her hips against his hand, against his sex still hard beneath her. “Can, can you…?”

He tilts his head at her, fingers still caressing inside of her. “Can I?”

She huffs out a small laugh because he’s always fucking with her. “You said you wanted to come inside of me,” she reminds him.

“I did, didn’t?” He takes his time removing his fingers, eyes on her as he does. Even with the window curtains wide open, the dark sky has the room dark

(and she doesn’t dismiss the fact that the window faces the side of someone else’s house, where they could be seen if the neighbors were so inclined to watch)

and his eyes look a little like molten lead in the faint rainy light like this. He goes to reach over to his bedside table but Iris stops him.

“I want to feel you,” she says.

He licks his lips and she doesn’t mistake the twitch of his dick she feels under her. “You sure?”

“Yes. I’m on birth control. And I trust you.”

He nods once and again, and then he takes her by her hips and slides her down his cock.

After, Iris decides that this time is the single most erotic experience of her life.

They fuck with the rain like a soundtrack behind them, like a song that swells and stretches, telling their story, but you're so brave; stone cold crazy for loving me; yeah, I'm amazed; i hope you make it out alive, a song that rises and rises, that sounds too good to be real, that might destroy you, but only in the best way.

She rides him, and he’s so full in her like this, so deep in her like this. His back is against his fabric headboard and she’s so close to him, her knees jutting into the headboard, her thighs holding around his hips, her breasts rubbing against his chest, nipples pebbling with each brush on those hard planes.

She holds on to him with her hands holding the back of his neck, softly scratching at the nape. But he’s touching her, always touching her, his hands caressing her spine, and then holding her waist, and then squeezing her hips. He guides her: keeps his favorite pace, smooth and languid; bring her up to the tip and fucks her back down; shows her how he wants her to roll her body when he’s full in her, so her clit is brushing the soft hairs on his pelvis, the sensation incredible.

He uses his mouth too: to kiss her throat, deep tongue kisses that’ll leave marks she knows she’ll have to cover up; to whisper against her mouth, “see how easy this is; see how good, baby; fuck, see how good this is; yes, yes, yes, my good girl.”

And Iris feels so caught up in it. She can’t stop looking at him, loving when the lightning slashes across the room and illuminates those eyes, the constellation of moles on his skin, his wet, pink mouth. Her body hums with pleasure, soaking her thighs and his, tightening around his dick as if it never, never wants to let him go. She voices her satisfaction, in soft sighs and heavy pleas, and his name on her tongue like a chant, or better, a song, “Bear, Bear, Barrryyy.” They’re so close, her skin sticking to his wherever they’re touching, chest to chest and ass to thigh. She feels full and whole and filled...with him and with desire and with, and with love, the thought of it making her shudder and close her eyes.

“No,” Barry whispers. “Don’t. Just let it, just let it...stay here with me. Can you do that for me? Be brave for me?”

She nods, head heavy as her body starts to reach its climax, as her body loosens at the same time that it tightens and she has to fight to hold on to him. “Yes,” she moans again, holding his gaze again.

He touches at her face, holding her cheek and staring back. “Good girl.”

She doesn’t know whose climax triggers the other. She just knows that at the same time that her body explodes, fluttering wildly around him, he comes too, so hard that she feels him throbbing against her walls, that she feels him filling her up with his cum.

He doesn’t let go of her right away. He just holds her, hands at her hip and her face, and then he kisses her, cementing what they’ve just done, cementing what Iris feels for him.

“It’s the anniversary of my mom’s death,” he says, out of the blue. “And when I went to visit my dad earlier, I found out that he’s sick, something with his heart, and I’m-I’m reeling.”

It’s been a long while since they separated and Iris climbed off of him to pad into his bathroom and warm a hand towel under warm water to clean them both. They’ve been lying in his bed, only half under the covers as they let their bodies cool. It’s quiet now, so quiet that Iris has thought he’d fallen asleep; she’d almost fallen asleep. But when he speaks, she blinks wide and then turns her head to face him.

“14 years today,” he adds. He’s looking up at the ceiling as he talks, but Iris feels the hand that’s settled at her waist tighten, the move bringing her closer to him. She understands that he just needs the contact, so she turns so that she’s all the way curled on him, one of her legs thrown across him, her arm tossed over him too, hand settled on his heart. It’s beating slow, steady, and so she strokes his bare chest, right it.

“How’d you find out?”

“I was still at school,” he tells her. “It was a Friday and some of my friends had convinced me to go to a football game, so we were there pretty late. Games could run until 11. I was 17 so I had my own car. It was an old car; we’d bought it from a guy she worked with. By this time, my dad had been gone for a couple years, and my mom was always working late at the lab, so when I got home around 10:30 that night and the lights were out, I wasn’t surprised.”

He shifts a little and continues. “I took a shower, put some leftover pizza in the microwave, and just as I was sitting down to eat, the doorbell rang. It was the police looking for her next of kin to tell them what had happened.” He sighs heavily. “I got lucky. The courts let one of my friend’s parents take me in until I graduated a few months later. I was able to get a work study job in college to pay my bills since the mortgage was already paid off.”

He says it all like he was lucky, but there is nothing lucky about losing both of your parents in that matter, even if one of them was still physically alive. Iris knows from experience that he doesn’t want pity, doesn’t want anyone to feel sorry for his story. But she can’t help the way she wants to comfort him, and so she lets herself do that, tightening herself around him, snuggling even more into his chest.

“How are you feeling about your dad?” she asks, mumbling against his skin.

“Devastated. He looked like, like, I don’t know, like he’s giving up. I don’t get to go see him too often, every couple of months, really. And he looked so different from when I saw him last: smaller, frailer. I think there might be something he’s not telling me. Like he’s been sick longer than he says he has.”

“Is he supposed to get out soon?”

“Another couple years. But I don’t know if he wants to hold on that long.”

She feels them first, the tears. She tries to hold him even tighter, tries to crawl into his skin almost, trying to stem his pain. He doesn’t cry for long, just a few sobs, and then he’s inhaling deeply and wiping at his eyes. But it must be enough because he sounds a little hollow when he says,

“And truthfully, I’m not so much sad as I am mad, that he seems to be giving up. On getting out. On me.”

She hums, not dismissively, but because she understands. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes, I hate my mom.”

He sort of jerks up at that. Not fully, he looks down at her, eyes widened in shock. However inappropriate it might be, she finds herself laughing a little at his expression. Then she explains.

“I know that addiction is not a moral failing. I know that she struggled right up til the end. I know both of those things as completely as I know anything else. But sometimes I wonder why my dad wasn’t enough, why me and Wally weren't enough. I wonder what she was trying to find in those pills that she couldn’t find in us, and I get so pissed that she let it take her away from us.”

She’s startled when he moves. He pulls himself from under her, letting her fall onto her back, and then he’s hovering above her, holding himself up on his elbows. He falls into the spread of her thighs, his sex nuzzling comfortably against her still warm center.

“I’ve seen some of the worst effects of addiction,” he says, “when their bodies end up on a slab of metal and it’s my job to dissect the things around them, to even sometimes help detectives dissect their lives to figure out what happened. And something I’ve learned is that it’s always, always about them. Never about the people they love.”

He searches her face, brushing a piece of hair back from her forehead. “And whatever your mom was or wasn’t thinking, you are enough. You are more than enough, Iris.” He leans down and gives her a kiss, deep and dirty, and she moans in frustration as he pulls back from her. He gives her a grin, one more reminiscent of the Barry she’s used to.

“Repeat after me,” he commands. “I, Iris West…”

“Really, Barry?”

“Yes, come on. I, Iris West…

She sighs, but says it. “I, Iris West…”

“Am more than enough.”

She licks her lips then, blinks, works to not let the tears that have suddenly gathered in the corner of her eyes escape.

“Am more than enough,” she whispers, finally.

Barry’s smile turns fond. “Good girl.”

She shakes her head because she doesn’t know what else to do besides kiss him. Which she does, deeply, reaching down to grip him in her palm. She pauses, just for a moment, to tell him “you know that you are enough too, right?” and she kisses the look of awe off of his face. It’s a long while before she stops kissing him, and then it’s only to moan into his mouth, to let him whisper his dirty somethings into her ear.

“What are your plans for tonight?”

They’ve just shared a shower. Barry is throwing on another pair of sweats and a hoodie and Iris puts her own leggings back on, sans underwear, and thumbs through Barry’s closet for another sweatshirt to put on.

(There’s no reason that she can’t put hers back on, but she’s feeling particularly sentimental and she wants to take something of Barry’s with her, something that smells like him, that feels like him.)

“None, really.” She pulls out a red sweater that reads Central City University Track & Field and throws it on over her bra. “Why? You kicking me out.”

Barry rolls his eyes. “Of course not.” He glances down at the watch on his wrist. “Wanna get dinner? And then go with me to my tattoo appointment? It’s at 8 tonight.”

She smiles at that. “Sure.”

They take the highway back downtown. The rain is still beating steadily and there is still the occasional rumble of thunder, the sporadic flash of lightning. He parks a bit further in the arts district, in front of a restaurant specializing in wood-fire pizzas and craft beers. This time, she knows to wait for him to come around and open the door for her so that she can walk under his umbrella. Once he locks his jeep, he grabs her hand, and they walk the couple doors down and into the restaurant.

The place is brightly lit, in direct contrast to the dark sky and even the faint light that had been on at Barry’s place. The weather assures that it isn’t densely packed, just a couple booths of families and what looks like a couple, so they’re seated quickly and easily. They eat fast since they’ve only got an hour before his appointment. In the meantime, they both keep the conversation light. It’s been a day, for the both of them really, and Iris doesn’t think that she can cry twice in a day.

After he pays, she goes to the bathroom and he tells her he’ll wait at the door for her. She goes in and it’s as brightly lit as the rest of the place and she quickly does her business and washes her hands before heading back out to where he knows Barry is waiting in the little space between the outer door and the door to the restaurant.

She walks through the place and out of the restaurant door, likely too quickly and without really looking. She takes several steps, straightening out Barry’s sweatshirt again, and then she’s bumping into what feels like a solid wall, almost falling backward. A quick hand reaches out to catch her, the hand large, easily wrapping around her forearm.

“Shit,” she says, shaking her head to clear it as she looks up. “I’m sorr..Scott?”

He doesn’t move back right away and so she has to look up, up at the man holding on to her. Scott Evans is the literal definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He’d been her editor when she’d work at CCPN right out of college, and she’d had the biggest crush on him. Tall with dark caramel skin and a neatly trimmed beard, he’d been the one to help guide her in the ways of mass story-telling. They’d gone on one date and Iris is not actually sure why they’d never gone on another.

“Iris West.” He says her name slowly, his grin widening at the same pace. He gives her a once-over, slow and heated. “How’ve you been?”

“R-really good,” she says, stumbling a little at that grin. Even if she doesn’t actually regret never seeing him again, Iris can admit that a man this good looking makes her a little tongue-tied.

“Yeah? I’ve been catching your blog when I can. It’s some good shit, West. I can see why you left our little paper.”

“Please,” Iris rolls her eyes with a little laugh. “There’s nothing little about Picture News.”

He shrugs, humble all the way. “Still, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Scott. I appreciate that.”

“It’s the truth.” He looks down at her, swiping at his lips with his tongue, and she suddenly realizes that they’re still too close. She steps back fully from him, glancing over Scott’s shoulders to see Barry watching them, his expression unreadable.

“Um,” she speaks, catching his attention. “I gotta go Scott.”

“Oh yeah; of course. We should get together soon. Maybe do dinner.” Scott looks back out of the window where rain steadily pours. “It’s still raining out. Can I walk you to your car?”

Her eyes don’t leave Barry’s and he tilts his head, waiting for her answer. “Scott, I’m not alone.”

He turns as if he’s just realizing that Barry is standing there. Barry is still quiet and only lifts his eyes to look at Scott when he mutters, “oh, hey man.”

Barry nods. “What’s up?” Then he looks at Iris. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I am.” Her voice is soft, cautious, and she throws one more glance at Scott. “It was good to see you.”

He graces her with that smile again. “Yeah. I’ll see you around.”

Barry takes her hand and they walk back to the truck. They’re on the road again, driving to a neighborhood near her own. For a second, she thinks he’s going to take her home, but he passes the road to her apartment and goes on to a neighborhood featuring several bars and little shops that cater to the college crowd. He pulls into the parking lot of a place called Black Gold, the lights inside near as bright as those in the pizza place.

Again, she waits until he comes around and turns as if to get out. He stops her though, holding the umbrella high, standing in front of her open legs. He does his thing, his stare like he's trying, and succeeding, to get inside her mind.

“That your ex-boyfriend?” he wonders.

She shakes her head. “Ex-boss.”

His expression doesn’t change. “All your bosses look at you like that?”

She swallows at the sudden feel of his hand on her thigh. The rain is pounding and drops fall on them, but she’s not noticing it. Instead, she’s caught in the storm that’s returned to his eyes, in the feel of his hands inching steadily toward her center.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” she says, instead of responding to him.

One corner of his mouth lifts, and the confident, bordering on cocky, Barry is looking at her now, even if that sparkle hasn’t returned quite yet.

“Nah,” he says. “Not jealous. You’re here right now. And you were with me earlier, moaning for me, coming for me.”

He slides his hand between her thighs and because she is, almost literally, always thirsty for him, wet for him, her legs spread easily. He fingers at the crotch of her leggings, and she knows that he can feel her warmth through the thin material. He thumbs at her until she gasps against him, finding her clit in a way that reminds him that he knows her body better than she knows it herself.

“He ever touch you like this?” Barry asks, voice a whisper above the rain. “Make you whimper even without getting your clothes off?”

She is whimpering, as he keeps his thumb on her clit, rubbing on her in slow circles. That’s all he’s doing: touching her with one hand, looking at her with those eyes that tell as much as they conceal, with his voice a deep rumble that rivals the thunder. He might be turned on, but he’s proving a point, naming himself as someone who, well, who owns her, even if she recognizes that no man should claim any power over her.

Heat spreads through her, a low, simmering sort of heat, but it’s enough that her folds grow slicker, start opening like the flowers of a petal waiting to be plucked. He keeps rubbing at her, staying on her clit, staring in her face, so much that she can’t hold his gaze. Because it feels better than it should, and her wet is soaking through these too thin leggings, and her breaths are coming in longer, coming in heavier.

“Tell me he hasn’t, Iris,” he says, commands, and Iris throws her head back, legs widening at their own volition, hips canting against his hand. “Tell me.”

“No,” she moans, eyes fluttering closed. “He never even touched me at all.”

“Tell me it’s just me,” he adds and she’s too far gone to note the pleading in his voice. “Tell me no one has ever touched you like this.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Just you, Barry, shit, just you.”

“Good,” he groans. “Good, good girl.”

Even if touch is the word he’s using, Iris understands that it’s more. She understands that they’re both wrapped up in uncertainty, never too sure of where they lie in others’ affections, never too sure of where they lie in life at all. She understands that he’s asking her if she feels it too, if she’s there with him, if this too easy, this too natural, feeling is a first for her too.

He’s asking if she’s brave enough to tell him the truth, if she undertands is meaning-understands that I'm no walk in the park; all these scars on my heart; it’s so dark here-even as she’s wondering the same, as she’s feeling the same, wondering if the churning feelings of abandonment make her unworthy somehow. Wondering if he’ll come to see that unworthiness.

Barry leans forward, just a touch away from her mouth, eyes blazing.

“There’s only you too, Iris,” he says, unprompted. “I swear I’ve just been waiting for you.”

He closes the distance to kiss her and that’s enough to take her over. It’s not a powerful orgasm, not like usual, but it does make her shut her eyes tight, make her limbs seize up as she rocks her hips through it. She breathes out, and she can’t stop the little laugh that comes out.

“You really are a dick,” she muses, opening her eyes slowly.

“A polite one, though,” he says, as he stands straighter and holds his hand out to help her down from the car. He holds the umbrella high over her. “See how I’m making sure you don’t get wet.”

“You didn't think of that earlier.”

His grin is devastating but it doesn’t hide the plethora of emotions in his eyes: the simmering lust, the faint traces of insecurity, the grief that’s been hovering all day...the love she doesn’t think he wants to hide anymore.

She hikes up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, and then she walks beside him into the parlor, words flashing in her head like a sign, but if you’re a warrior, there’s nothing to fear; nothing to fear.

And later that night, as she cuddles up next to Barry is his large comfortable bed, she listens to his soft breathing, the sound a melody to the rain still pattering against his windows. She listens and she stares at him, taking in his features, softer than they were before, the stress of today easing away with every second he’s lost to sleep. A flash of lightning lights the room, and it catches her eyes again, the new tattoo, the purple ink bright on his skin, covering the space from a lily on his shoulder to just over his heart. It goes dark again, his room blanketed once more, but in her mind’s eyes, she can still see the vibrant ink on his skin, the pretty drooping petals of an iris.

Cause you're so brave

Stone cold crazy for loving me

Yeah, I'm amazed

I hope you make it out alive

#westallen fanfiction #westallen #barry x iris #iris west #strangers to lovers

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ahkaahshi · 4 years

Text

haikyuu guys n their summer street style [hcs]

characters: kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru, hirugami sachirou, sakusa kiyoomi

genre: is thirst a genre? also, crack.

warning(s): mild thirsting because I can’t help myself sometimes okay

loves the athleisure/sportswear look

and he works it

did he come from the gym? class? or was he just lounging around at home all day with his cute self? the world may never know

I just envision him in red, black, and white like idk why I can't separate him from the nekoma color scheme lol

red t-shirt, black joggers, and black or white sneakers

his shirt is fitted enough to hug his ~ muscles ~ but not so much that it’s a straight up compression shirt

sneakers are strictly adidas ultraboosts or vans (era style)

might wear a lil baseball cap but likes to let his bedhead be free

and maybe some aviator sunglasses if it’s an exceptionally bright day

if his s/o begs him to free his thighs, or the weather calls for it, he will unleash the beasts in some black athletic shorts

likes to be comfy and cute! an athleisure king!

first of all, let’s take a moment of silence to mourn the plaid shorts incident because *inhales sharply* no

pls let him wear his track pants 24/7 (sorry I'm still drooling over how he looked in s2 ep6 where he made takeru take a pic of him with kags bowing to him)

okay but all personal thirsting aside, he low key gives off toorist vibes with his fit (get it??? tooru + tourist = toorist!!! I'm sorry but not really bc I'm kinda proud of that one)

so just humor me and picture this will you

a lil button up, hawaiian style shirt (shades of blues, yellows, and oranges)

with light wash jeans (slim fit, not skinny)

and white nike sb sneakers, specifically (I take my shoes very seriously lol)

would probs flex on us by just casually throwing on a gucci/prada belt

definitely wears a watch so he can make it to all his d*ck appointments on time since everyone wants a piece of his fine self

let’s throw a gold chain in there for extra drip cuz we all know he would if he’s feelin fancy

is a king so must dress like one. he ain’t playin.

why am I picturing him looking like a crime syndicate boss on vacation now??? and why do I love it for him???

okay I picture him dressing like a chilled out skater kid ngl that's just the vibe he gives off cuz he’s immovable ya know

but soft skater boy

by this I mean:

pastel colored t-shirts/button ups (pinks, lavenders, blues, and yellows) sometimes with brands on them. call him a mf ambassador

black, slightly ripped, slim fit jeans that he cuffs at the bottom because his legs are too long for them and he wants to make the length look like a ~ style choice ~ rather than an unfortunate thing he must deal with bc he’s tall as hell

white nike crew socks

and black/pastel colored vans (high top or era styles)

wears a watch so he knows when he has to be home to feed his dog

probs has a custom made lanyard hanging out of his pocket with pics of him and his dog on it

has little round sunglasses that are just too cute on him

disclaimer: doesn’t actually know how to skate

I mean, he’s basically a sequoia tree with a long way to fall so it’s understandable that he’s a lil hesitant about it (note: gao is a redwood)

avoids skate parks because of this

a very aesthetically pleasing person to take pics with for the gram because of his outfits. his presence always does your feed justice. 11/10.

I feel like omi’s the kinda guy who doesn't try super hard with his looks

like, he’s fine with just a t-shirt, track pants, and sneakers

but I have a feeling that he secretly loves collecting cool sneakers and just steppin tf out to flex

komori is shook when he goes over to omi’s place and sees his secret collection

asks to borrow a pair. sakusa says no.

so here’s the fit I'm feelin for him:

a crew neck tee that’s white/black/soft yellow/soft green (again with the school colors lmao but he looks good tho so why not keep it goin???)

black track/running pants with a tapered fit

crew socks with a funky pair of running shoes (totally see him in the nike air max react 270 shoes)

rarely wears shorts bc he feels ~ exposed to the germs ~ but if he does, they’re athletic shorts

will 100% wear a fanny pack cuz he needs someplace to put all his germ-fighting essentials!!

but crossbody, not around the waist. atsumu roasted the sh!t outta him for wearing it like that before

and to finish his fit: a mask. just white or black. no need to get too crazy

another comfy sportswear king!

324 notes · View notes

chogiwank · 3 years

Text

Redamancy - Doyoung

A/N: I have more planned for this fiction so I am planning on a part two. Thank you for all your support everyone, I apologize for not posting for so long but I am so thankful for all of you sticking by me. I hope you guys like this story! Feedback and criticism is appreciated. I am slightly rusty in my writing so I do apologize for shitty writing if so. I will try and post more works!

Word Count: 2K

Genre: Angst, Fluff, NonIdol!Doyoung (Established Relationship)

Warnings: death and mentions of cancer. Future mentions of ghosts/supernatural (possibly).

Summary: Redemancy - an act of loving the one who loves you. She was looking for redemancy, she found it, but she could never keep it. Will she ever get a fate anything less than cruel?

Each morning she woke up to the polaroid covered wall. Plastered with old, once happy, now sorrowful memories. The reminisce of goofy, romantic dates: road trips, plane travels, stay at home dates alongside many others. Five years together gave a lot to remember with promises of marriage, a forever home, and children. The vows proved to be vain. On her nightstand lay the last Polaroid of their final date. The last Polaroid of his smile, she would never see again. His signature gummy smile, big and bright as he sat on the bench. A plaid green shirt, paired with his jeans and sneakers, a simple exterior. The background lit up from the strings of carnival lights, and behind were strings of the multiple events that happened prior and after. It brought despair, a lost future, he who had captured her heart, now a mere memory, broke her.

She pulls the white duvet covers over her face out of annoyance, from the bright warm light rays shining in her face, through the crack in the curtains. She rolls over successfully escaping the light, but the covers were too hot to burrito under. Eventually giving up, she throws the covers to the side, and sits up on the side of the bed. Her legs dangling over the edge of the bed, she scoots forward to stand up. Stretching her body and yawning out of her cozy slumber. She checks the time on the wall clock, 9:15 AM - a perfect time to wake up for the weekend and start having some fun. She walked off to the bathroom to get ready and prepare herself for the day.

She brushes her teeth with mint flavoured toothpaste and brushes out her bed hair. Brushing out the hair gently, to soften it and take out the fizziness, and settling down flyaways. Through her process of fixing her looks and picking out clothes, she got hungry, craving something such as French toast with a drink on the side and some fruits - not too heavy and not too light of a breakfast. And so, she puts on her outfit of choice, sliding on her shoes at the door, but her ears perk up hearing a ding at her apartment door.

Who could it be? She wondered. She did not make plans with anyone before, its so out of the blue. She opens her door and sees a familiar face - her boyfriend, Doyoung.

“Dons! Hey, love, what are you doing here? “She embraced him warmly and flashed a welcoming smile.

“Don’t you remember Y/N? It’s the special day today!” She was confused, she furrowed her brows at Doyoung’s words. Doyoung caught on at her confused expression and chuckled, “OH! Do not tell me you forgot! It’s our five-year anniversary, baby!” Her eyes grew wide at his words, and cheeks flushed from embarrassment. Frantically apologizing to him, as she completely missed the date and did not even have anything to buy him. He told her not to worry, and to follow him out. He knew she must be hungry, so they caught a bus over to their favourite café in town to buy breakfast. She thanked him and happily dug into her breakfast, her stomach was growling throughout the car ride, and Doyoung kept teasing her about it. She couldn’t help it, when a girl has to eat, she has to eat!

And so, the couple finished their breakfast and Doyoung suggested that the two catch a bus and head over to the annual summer amusement park. She gleamed with joy, excitedly grasping his hand in hers. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she quickly dug through her bag, left a tip on the table for the workers, and tugged him out of his seat, dragging him along, running towards the bus stop, “well then we better get going, or else we’re going to miss the bus!”

And so, the two ran as fast as they could, laughing as they catch the bus last minute, thankfully the driver was kind enough to stop the bus and open up the doors again for the two. They thanked the driver and walked to grab a seat. Panting and quietly chuckling catching their breathes after running, they sat at the back of the bus. “wow, that’s about all the exercise I need today“ Y/N laughed at Doyoung’s comment. Hitting him with a witty response, “you do not even exercise, do not even say that!”

The bus ride was about a thirty-minute (30) ride to the amusement park near the pier. Doyoung and Y/N made non-stop conversation the whole way, these two never stopped talking when they were together – honestly, that is one of the best things ever. When you have someone, you can continuously talk and talk and talk to, without either of you getting bored or tired. And that is the same person you can have a couple moments of silence with without the awkwardness which occurs. – These two were meant to be. Friends, best friends, and girlfriend and boyfriend. There was nothing more either one could ask more for.

The two walked across the pier decorated with food, tickets, and game stalls. The waves of the blue coloured water below hit the pillars of the pier lightly. Doyoung stopped in his steps to play one of the pier games, a ring toss game. If he gets all of the rings in, he wins the big prize. He played the game and ultimately won, asking Y/N to pick out the prize and she got the giant stuffed plushie, “ I don’t know how we’re going to carry this around but for you, anything. Don’t lose it though you air head.” Doyoung teased Y/N, messing up her hair. She pouts at him for doing so, and turned her back on him, until she felt his fingers creep up her sides to tickle her. She laughed her lovely laugh and begged him to stop, and so he did – after a couple minutes that is.

They carried on with their day at the amusement park, playing many of the games, winning multiple prizes, no more big ones though, they did not even have a car to carry them, or the luck. The couple walked around and at the end of the pier they reached the rides. Roller coaster, ferries wheel, teacups rides, all that fun amusement park stuff. They were both thrill seekers, so of course, they ran to the biggest roller coaster first. The waiting line was 45 minutes though, but worth it - the ride was amazing and gave them great excitement. They moved on to the other rides, like the teacups, Y/N messed around and spun them faster and faster, until the two got dizzy. They walked off that ride with wobbly legs, holding on to one another to make sure they did not fall. That was enough for the rides for them today.

After a while, they moved on to trying the different food stalls – hotdogs, nachos, cotton candy, ice cream. All of it, until the two began to feel sick. They were not going to return to the rides after this, neither of them needed to throw up today and inconvenience themselves. They took a break and sat on one of the benches decorated with potted fern plants at each side. They talked and cracked jokes, admired the beautiful, coloured lights lit up around them, all around and throughout the amusement park. Basking in the cheers around them and the darkness of the night lit up from stringed lights, the twinkling stars and smiling moon.

There was a photographer taking pictures near the fountains, which switched through purple, blue, green, and red lights, giving them colour. They asked the man and paid their fee to have their photograph taken, he kindly accepted. He told them to pose and Doyoung lifted Y/N up into his arms, and spun her around. The photographer snapped a beautiful picture of them in the dark, fountains behind them in purple, and the couple lovingly smiling at each other. The love in their eyes bright, and true for each other. They thanked him and took their polaroid, amazed at the picture.

Later, Doyoung asks Y/N if she feels good enough to head on to the Ferris wheel, and then head home. It was 10 o’clock of the night, she happily nodded. And so, they walked towards the Ferris wheel and waited in line for their turn. Doyoung helped her step in, teasingly, Y/N curtsied as he helped her in, grabbing her hand, following her in after. They sat on one side of the Ferris wheel box, Doyoung’s arm around her, resting on her shoulder and her head on his shoulder. They slouched in their seats and admired the view of the pier. The shinning lights were so bright underneath them as the ride took them higher and higher. Finally reaching the top the ride stopped, letting them look at the town feeling like they were on top of the world.

The impeccable view of the park and town was breathtaking. The dark night was lit up by the lights in apartments, houses, and the amusement parks rides. The moon was glowing brightly, and the stars were out to compliment it, there was no cloud in sight, a clear night sky. There was something about the nighttime that was entrancing, maybe it was the view they had, or maybe Y/N loved this hour of the day more than the mornings and afternoons. No idea. But this day, this night was different, it was too good to be true and one of the best days she has had with Doyoung in a while. She lift her head up to look at Doyoung and he flashed his gummy smile at her.

That was when Doyoung broke apart from Y/N, reached into his trench coat’s pocket and pulled out a small red velvet box. Y/N was puzzled, furrowing her brows, and tilting her head in confusion. Her eyes grew wide as she sees him get down on one knee, look up at her, pop open the box and reveal a ring, with a gorgeous diamond in the middle, shaped like a circle, two tiny complimentary circle shaped diamonds decorated it. It was a gorgeous ring, and Y/N’s tongue felt like it was caught on something, her chest felt heavy, but she was happy. He flashes his gummy smile again , and asks her for her hand in marriage, to live together as husband and wife. If she was ready for that step. She was, she really was ready. But did not know how to express it. She felt nervous, but why? She did not know but she knew she could not say no. Although verbally that was hard for her, she lost her words. Instead, she took the ring and slide it on her left ring finger. Smiling and crying a couple tears of joy, she says a soft “I do,” and throws herself around Doyoung, embracing him in a tight hug. The two whisper each other sweet I love you’s, holding each other close as the ride starts up again, and brings them down from the top.

Full of glee, the two walk out hand in hand, giving each other a quick kiss. Y/N speaks up and asks, “why don’t you stay over at my place today? It is late, might as well.” He happily accepts, and the couple begins to walk out of the amusement park. They walked together for about 5 minutes to reach the nearest gas station, where the bus stop was. The bus stop bench was empty, perfect for them to sit for the next 10 minutes, until the bus was arriving. Doyoung excused himself to head to the gas station’s bathroom, “I think I drank too much of those sodas.” Y/N nodded and smiled at Doyoung as he heads inside.

She took out her phone to scroll through her social media while she was waiting for him. Laughing at the funny pictures showing up on her Instagram feed. Suddenly, she hears loud noises coming from behind her, in the gas station. She turns around and her eyes grow wide out of fear. She sees Doyoung and the cashier held at gunpoint from the robbers. She did not know what to do, should she call the police? Does she run? Can she jump in to help and save Doyoung? She must save him, but she can’t she’s defenseless. She panics, looking around to see if anyone at all is there she can call out to. No one, no one was there just her, just Doyoung and the cashier. They were held at gunpoint, she was there away from the danger, she had to call the police. With shaky hands, she watches the cashier pull out the money from the machine, and she begins dialing the emergency number. Her breathing was hard, she felt choked up, her eyesight blurring from tears. She heard a voice on the other line answer, and she explained the situation – the lady confirmed they will be sending police over right now, and that Y/N should keep herself somewhere safe.

And so, the line went dead, Y/N eyes frantically shifted, and breath hitched as one of the robbers shot the cashier with their gun, and the same one shot Doyoung. Right in front of her eyes. She screamed out for him and panicked even more. She ran, and ran, and ran far from the danger. She ran down to the trees, to blend in with the darkness – to avoid the same misfortune which she experienced Doyoung face.

She mumbled to herself, angry, scared, distraught. She cried and cried and cried, she punched the ground with her hand. What is this cruel fate? What is this? Why would this happen? This could not happen. Today was so perfect, so amazing, so fun. Why would such a cruel fate take over? Maybe she just passed out after the immense amount of cotton candy and hotdogs she ate; it was just a nightmare in a food comma right? Wake up, Y/N, wake up! She screamed in her thoughts repeatedly.

And then, she noticed her hand. Her left hand and ring finger. She spots the silver diamond ring Doyoung gave her, and she knew she had to face the truth. She had to accept that the universe just took him from her. They took away her love, the one person she invested herself in for five years. Took away someone who loved her in all her best and worst times. He helped her when her mother died from cancer – it was the hardest thing she ever went through. Seeing her mother’s health deteriorate for two years, as she fought a never-ending battle, that kept taking her life away, slowly, painfully. It made Y/N lose her sleep, and it made her school grades suffer, it made her emotional stability a mess. It made her a mess. But Doyoung was there for her, to help her, to comfort her. She was a wreck, and he was her support when she lost one of the people she truly loved and cared for. And then came Doyoung, he began to build her up. He made her believe there was more for her to live for. Her mother’s life was not hers. Her mother would want her to continue and not give up. She needs to continue life and continue happily. That is what he told her. That was six years ago, last year of highschool. And now, she lost the person who built her up when she was broken. That shattered her. It shattered her heart into millions of pieces. The pain she had not felt for five years, returned.

The pain was going to ruin her again. She felt as if the universe despised her, and her happiness. She was always refused to have happiness, true happiness that is. Her happiness with her mother was snatched away, and now her happiness with her boyfriend, her fiancée, the love of her life was taken away. She could not get any of it back. She could not even erase the memories from her mind. It was such a tragedy, she hated it. She hated herself. She hated her fate, and whatever it had planned for her. She knew there could not be anything good ahead for her. Not after this, she can not trust what it holds for her. She does not want to know or experience this anymore.

Out of her anger and sadness, she strikes a hard punch to the tree, her knuckles becoming scratched and bloody. It was her fault. Her mom, Doyoung and any other death she experiences in front of her, was probably going to be her fault. She should have helped them. She should have gone inside to help Doyoung, maybe, maybe if she did, he would be alive. Or she would at least be in his place, or even with him. She would not have to be lonely.

That is what she hated so much, she was always lonely, and when she was not, she ultimately ended up alone again. For once, she felt like she did not need to be, but now it just proves to her, she deserves her loneliness.

And so, Y/N at this point believed not all stories have happy endings, and hers, was never meant to be happy.

#nct #nct smut #nct doyoung #nct x reader #nct imagines #kim doyoung #doyoung smut #doyoung fluff #doyoung angst #nct 127 #nct u #nct fluff #nct angst #nct au

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eryiss · 3 years

Text

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Soulmates

Summary: THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM. A week-long experience guaranteed to find you your soulmate. Laxus had dismissed it as nothing but crap, and brought himself a ticket to prove it. It would have gone well, if it weren’t for the handsome guy running the program who kept catching his eye.

Notes: This was written as part of Fraxus Week 2021, as always hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. Check out their blog to see all the other content.

Links: Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM

Year: 2055

Location: Tokyo, Japan

"Laxus Dreyar," A robotically cheerful voice echoed through the room. "Please step into the preparation area."

Rising quickly, Laxus strode through the reception room and towards the door that had lit up. The animated emoticon projected onto the wall followed him as he walked, and the glass door shimmered out of existence as he approached. Once through the archway, the glass flickered back into place, and the emoticon went back to its unanimated state. So far, Laxus had yet to be impressed by THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM.

It claimed to be an experience that will end up matching an attendee with their soulmate. You paid your fee, gave up a week of your life, trusted in the system that it would work, and supposedly you'd end up meeting the love of your life. Laxus was only there to disprove it.

Well, also because Ever had paid for it, and he knew how much it costed. But mainly he went to disprove it.

So far, he'd undergone a full body scan, had his social media accounts interrogated, and submitted a completed questionnaire that covered everything from best first date ideas to how he dealt with the inevitability of death. This was apparently so the algorithm could create a profile for him, and was not reflective of how the program would be. According to the guidebook Laxus had absently flicked through, the morning of the first day was slightly tedious, so to better match him with potential lovers. It all seemed stupid – as far as Laxus was concerned, romance was born out of coincidence and chemistry, not a list of things you liked and didn't like – but he was willing to undergo it all just to prove how it was a waste of money.

Each day, he would go on an 'Experience' with a match. It was a simulation of a first date, purpose built to the two people's shared interests. Some people went on candle lit dinners, some people went into an escape room, some people were stranded in the middle of the ocean with only each other for company. Every experience was tailored to the participants.

At least it would be interesting.

Laxus walked down the corridor, following the neon arrows that pointed him to another shimmering glass door. The pretentious modernism of the building was obvious, and it showed off every ridiculous advancement in technology in the most frivolous ways. It couldn't be a more obvious money-making scheme if it tried.

As he walked through the door, he saw a man standing at a podium. His date, perhaps.

Well, if that was the case, they at least knew his type.

Tall, long legs with some obvious lean bulk to them. Well dressed, in clothing that clearly was trying to highlight his physique but not in an obvious way. His face, looking down at the tablet attached to the podium, was sharp and angular, with high cheek bones and a slightly jutting chin. A mole rested below one of his vibrant eyes, and a long main of flowing green hair hung down to his waist. He was hot and Laxus grinned; at least he would spend a bit of time with a sexy guy.

As Laxus approached, the man looked up with a polite smile. He didn't make a move towards him, as Laxus expected, and continued to tap on the tablet before him. The lights gained a bright blue and the small room illuminated itself.

"You must be mister Dreyar," The man said in lieu of a greeting.

"Yeah, nice to meet ya," Laxus nodded, stepping forward and offering the man a hand to shake. He took it; he had a good grip on him. "Guess you're my date for the evening."

"Ah, I'm afraid not," The man denied, and Laxus frowned a little. "I work here, I'll be overseeing your simulations throughout the week as part of a quality control test. You'll meet the man who you've been set up with in the simulation itself."

"Thought the system was supposed to be automated?" Laxus asked, retracting his hand, and taking a step back.

"It is. A few times a year someone is called to watch over, to make sure it's as streamlined as possible," The man looked back down to his tablet again and began typing, and a small bubbling of curiosity grew in Laxus. Nothing he'd act on, but the face of concentration on the man was an attractive one. "I'm surprised you weren't informed beforehand; I must admit. It's in the contract you signed that this could happen, but the company does like to warn people before things begin."

"It ain't a big deal," Laxus shrugged, looking around the small room. "I ain't really sure how this part of the process works, so maybe you could help. I didn't catch yer name, either."

"Freed Justine," The man introduced himself, smirking ever so slightly. "In a moment you'll walk through those doors," he motioned to the aforementioned doors, "and the simulation will begin. Your date will walk through another set of doors, and you'll meet then. We like to have dates meet for the first time mid-way through a simulation, as it feels more natural than meeting beforehand. Once you've spoken for a while, the activity of the simulation can begin."

"How do I know what the 'activity' is?"

"It's normally fairly obvious. If you were, for example, white water rafting, you'd be placed on a dock with a boat already attached to the rapids," Freed explained, looking up from the tablet again. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Laxus would have rather known what he was getting into before it happened, he felt like it would give him an advantage. He couldn't dwell on that, though, as the floor below him lit up. Pulses of light seemed to guide him to a corner of the room, where an odd glass cylinder stood. Clearly they were informing him that he was to get inside the cylinder and, after a nod from Freed, he did as he was instructed.

The cylinder closed as he stepped in, and a flicker of nervousness dwelled inside of him as the glass seemed to seal itself shut. He glanced towards Freed, who gave him a short smile, before a flash of light erupted from above. It only lasted a moment, and Laxus took a second to understand what had happened.

His clothing had changed. Where once he wore an outfit he saw as worthy for a date, he now wore a tee-shirt, shorts, and sneakers.

"The hell?" He murmured under his breath.

"That's the outfit that best fits what kind of date you'll be having," Freed explained as the glass unsealed and Laxus could step out. "Partly it's to better round out the simulation, but I think it's mainly so we don't get sued for property damage should your actual clothes get stained or damaged."

"How romantic," Laxus murmured, before looking down at himself. "Am I having a date in a gym or something?"

"Yes, actually. One of your shared interests is combat sports, so you'll be placed in a boxing arena," Freed said after looking towards the tablet. He thought for a moment, then frowned. "I probably shouldn't have told you that."

"Glad you did, I like being prepared," Laxus shrugged. "Boxing's hardly romantic, though."

"For the right person, it is," Freed retorted. The lights around the simulation door lit up green, and Freed smiled. "Speaking of the right person, the simulation is ready, so when you're ready please step through. I hope you enjoy your date."

"I'll certainly try," Laxus nodded. "And if I don't, I get to punch the guy."

Freed laughed, and Laxus approached the door and refocused his attention on his goal on disproving the systems worth. He knew that the guy in the simulation wouldn't be his soulmate. If the company was worth it's price, then they would have understood that Freed was a better match for him than some random guy who happened to like to box. Still, once this was over and he'd disproven their complete success claim, he might get Freed's number. It wouldn't be a waste of time.

---

"So he wasn't the love of your life, then?"

That was what greeted Laxus as he walked into the preparation area outside of the simulation. It had been a day since his first date, and Freed stood before his tablet again as if he'd been waiting for Laxus to approach. He probably had.

"Wouldn't be here if he was," Laxus shrugged. "You saw how it went. Hardly compatible."

"I suppose not."

The date itself wasn't awful, in fact it was pretty fun. As Freed had stated, he'd been taken into a simulation of an old-fashioned boxing gymnasium, where he'd met the guy. He wasn't bad looking, and in pretty damn good shape, but they hadn't been destined for a relationship and they both knew it. Though Laxus couldn't say it was time wasted, as they'd exchanged information and said they'd workout together at some point. Laxus had always found it hard to find a spotter who could match his weight, and the guy could certainly do that and more.

"The first dates don't typically be where people settle," Freed continued, tapping at his tablet, perhaps setting up the next simulation. "The first half of the week has a low success rate, honestly. I believe it's mainly collecting information to better inform the matches later in the week, so don't be disheartened."

"I wasn't," Laxus shrugged. "If I'm honest, I don't believe this is real."

"I thought as much," Freed chuckled. "Though you probably shouldn't have told a member of staff that. It might taint my view of you."

"What are you gonna do. Throw me into a simulated volcano?"

"I could," Freed grinned, and it was a pretty nice look on the man. "But the real danger is that you say it to a member of staff who's gone through the program and who met their partner through it. They can get somewhat defensive, and they'll do whatever they can to make you believe it will work, and they'll be rather annoying while doing so. It's something I know from experience."

"You ain't been through it?"

"No, I'm hardly in a rush to find someone," Freed shrugged a little. "I believe that these things will happen when they're meant to, so why force them? And yes, before you point it out, it's hypocritical of me to say that while working here."

"Never been tempted?" Laxus asked.

"Of course. I know you don't believe it but I've yet to see someone leave the program without meeting someone they eventually fell in love with."

Freed didn't seem like the kind of guy to say bullshit like that for no reason, and the honesty in his tone didn't feel as though he was parroting a line from a corporate memo, so maybe he did believe it. Admittedly Laxus hardly knew Freed, so he couldn't make too many judgments about his person, but the fact he seemed to believe that this could find him true love was a little intimidating. A pragmatist like Freed – that's what Laxus thought him to be, anyway – wouldn't say that if he didn't believe it.

A horrible thought suddenly hit Laxus. He might actually find someone who he might fall in love with. That was… worrying.

"You won't need to change clothes today, your date won't require it," Freed said, looking up from his tablet again.

"Good to know," Laxus nodded, trying to ignore the nervousness that was filling him. "You gonna tell me what I'm doing?"

"No," Freed shook his head. "For all we know, if I didn't tell you yesterday, the date might have been entirely different."

"Nah, I don't think so," Laxus chuckled, walking towards the podium Freed was standing behind and leaning on it. He grinned at the man, who looked up at him for a moment before averting his eyes. "Tell me, I'll complain about you to yer manager if you don't."

"What a horrible threat," Freed said sardonically, though he did look down at his tablet again. "It's a fairground with a circus performance at the end. And apparently your date is something of a gymnast, and so there's a high chance that he'll get on stage and perform for you."

"Is that gonna be impressive or is it gonna make me wanna claw my eyes out?" Laxus laughed.

"He's a professional athlete, so I suspect the former," Freed grinned a little.

They chatted for a few minutes more, and eventually the lights around the door lit up again and guided him towards his second date. Laxus pushed off from the podium he was still leaning on, ignoring the teasing comment that he should adjust his posture if he wanted to impress his future husband, and walked through the door and into the simulation of an outdoor fairground. As he crossed the threshold, he didn't notice how his nerves had disappeared completely.

---

"I'm startin' to think your program ain't as good as you're saying it is."

Laxus spoke as he walked into the preparation area, and Freed looked up with a small grin on his face as he approached. Laxus had the slightest falter in his step as he saw that Freed had his hair tied up in a high ponytail, rather than using the low band he'd had on the two previous days. Seriously, the simulation had matched him with two random men and not the beauty before him and yet still claimed to be the best matchmaking system in history. Ha.

His second date hadn't been bad, exactly. The guy was hot in his own way – and someone with a scene/punk interest would have been all over him – and he was entertaining the entire time. But he was a little too much for Laxus. Constantly wiggling eyebrows and euphemisms. Good for the right guy, but not for Laxus.

"We're still collecting data, every date is an improvement on the last," Freed waved off the complaint. "For example, you seemed to enjoy the games you were playing, so a bit of friendly competition is something you'll like in a relationship," Laxus had to admit, someone who could challenge him was a turn on, so the system had gotten that right about him. "That's certainly been taken into account for this date."

The way he'd said the last sentence, with a hint of amusement and restrained laughter, made Laxus nervous. He didn't push the topic, partially out of fear.

"We'll see how confident you are when the week's over and I've turned everyone down," Laxus shrugged.

"You're determined for this to fail for you, aren't you?" Freed asked with amusement, and Laxus didn't deny it, instead choosing to shrug. "Is that why you're here, do you see yourself as the man to take the system down and prove how much of a scam it is? Because we've had literally hundreds of people try that and we've yet to have an unsatisfied customer."

"How do I know they've not been silenced?" Laxus joked, grinning as he walked closer to Freed. "Or worse, you killed 'em, blended their bodies up and sold it as a health drink or something?"

"Because we're not in a poorly written young adult novel?" Freed chuckled. "We actually just burn the corpses, it's much less messy."

"Knew it," Laxus laughed. "You gonna tell me what you're gonna put me through today?"

"Absolutely not," Freed grinned. "And I won't move on that today. Because nothing is going to please me more than seeing your reaction to it."

"Why, it's not weird is it?" Laxus frowned, looking concerned now.

"It depends on your definition of weird, I suppose," Freed smirked, and if it weren't such an attractive expression on the man then Laxus might have taken issue with it. "I'll simply say, I expect it's weighted slightly more towards what your date will enjoy rather than what you're going to enjoy."

"Or you could just tell me what's gonna happen," Laxus prompted, and Freed shook his head.

"You'll require an outfit change."

Laxus sighed a little, apparently the topic was to be dropped. He walked to the glass pod in the corner of the room and allowed it to close behind him, and he turned to look at Freed in expectation. Freed pressed something on the tablet and the light flash of light filled the cylinder a moment later, the same chill running over him as his clothing was replaced.

When he saw his reflection, Laxus found himself more confused than anything. He was only wearing swimming trunks and a large life-preserver. He could swim fine, so didn't know what the hell the point of that thing was, and turned to Freed again in confusion.

Freed, who had apparently been looking at him, immediately turned away, and Laxus could see his cheeks redden.

Huh. Had Freed been checking him out.

"You really not gonna let me know why I need to wear this?" Laxus asked, stepping out of the pod, and lifting one side of the life-preserver. Freed looked back to him, pointedly looking only at his face, cheeks still covered with the slightest dusting of a blush. Laxus wanted to focus on that, and maybe flex his abs to see if he got a reaction, but instead spoke again in a jovial tone. "You know if I drown in a simulation, I'm gonna get a lawyer right?"

"I doubt that will happen," Freed said, seemingly forcing himself to shake off the blush. "It's just a precaution."

"You wanna tell me what it's a precaution against?" Laxus probed.

"No," Freed grinned again. The lights above the door lit up, and Freed's grin widened. "And it seems you'll be finding out now."

Laxus wanted to push the topic more and find out what he was going to endure, and he very nearly ignored the flashing green lights and did just that. He almost did, if it weren't for the fact that he also wanted to take off the life preserver and give Freed an unhindered view of his chest to see what happened, so he clearly wasn't in the right mind to be making decisions. He was trying to disprove love could be found in this place, flirting with the guy was hardly helping his argument.

As he had the previous two times, Freed wished him luck as he approached the door. Thie time, though, it was tinged with amusement, and Laxus felt a swell of anticipation as he walked through the door.

The simulation was… interesting. It took Laxus a moment to realise he recognised what he was seeing, and a further moment to remember what it was. When he was a kid, his grandfather had watched old reruns of a gameshow: Wipeout. It was a ridiculous set of obstacle courses, where idiot contestants tried to win money but usually ended up looking like assholes, falling into water after being hit by giant mechanisms covered in foam cladding. It was cheap entertainment where the contestants were there to be laughed at, and apparently Laxus was going to be enduring the damn thing.

He turned around quickly, watching as the doors flickered out of existence, Freed's smirk being the last thing he saw.

---

The moment Laxus walked into the preparation room, he was met with a bursting of laughter. He crossed his arms, watching as Freed tried and failed to retain his laughter. It took longer than it should have, and it was tempting to shake the bastard. He would deserve it if he was laughing at what Laxus thought he was laughing at.

"It ain't that funny."

"Oh it truly was."

Laxus grit his teeth. His third date had been the most interesting, that was for sure, but it had also been ridiculous. He'd been forced to go through three stupidly weird obstacle courses, competing against his date, who was a loud-mouthed idiot with stupidly pink hair.

Multiple times, he'd been pushed from the course and into the unnecessarily cold water. The loud cackling from his date seemed to be shot straight into his ears the moment he broke the surface of the water, and the man's amusement at Laxus failing seemed to double each time it happened. During the last round, when he'd been knocked down a slope of gushing water by a barrel of all things, Laxus had to stop himself from swimming over to the man and clocking him on the nose. He'd probably be kicked from the system, so he talked himself out of it and instead put his focus onto winning the game. He had, and the brat annoyingly wasn't bothered at all.

"He was fucking annoying," Laxus muttered as he walked closer to Freed. He leant against the podium again, closing his eyes in exasperation. "Good luck finding him a guy to match with."

"Actually he's on his fifth day here, and everyone other than you said they wanted to match with him," Freed informed him, looking over the tablet. He was being cagey in letting Laxus see the screen surely the next date wouldn't be as bad as the last. "So you're the outlier in the set. He's remarkably easy compared to you."

"Honestly, kinda offended by that," Laxus muttered.

Freed breathed out a laugh, before placing the tablet back onto the podium. Laxus didn't spare it a glance, and instead looked towards the clothes-changing pod to see if he would need a new outfit. Seemingly knowing that, the pod lit up and directed Laxus to enter. With a small sigh, he did.

Once inside, the flash went off and his clothes were replaced by the appropriate outfit. Thankfully, this time he'd been replaced by an actual normal outfit. A dinner suit, perfectly tailored for his body. It was entirely black and white and, while he definitely looked good in it, it wasn't exactly what he would have chosen for himself. He liked his clothes to have at least a splash of colour, and suits could have that in a tasteful way when done right.

"Before you ask, you'll be having dinner today," Freed informed him as he stepped out of the pod. "Fairly simple, but I think that's more than earned. Most people only have one peculiar simulation, you've had nothing but."

"Lucky me," Laxus murmured. "Wanna tell me about the guy?"

"No," Freed shook his head. "Though I should say, it's at this point in the program where the system starts to understand what you're looking for. So it's entirely possible that he might be the person you end up with."

"I doubt it," He rebuffed, glancing at his reflection in the pod.

"Just go in with an open mind, that's all I ask," Freed said, typing on the tablet again. "The gentleman you've been set up with supposedly has a ninety two percent match with the data on you we currently have. There's a good chance that this might go well if you let it."

"You know I wanna disprove this, right?" Laxus grinned. "I ain't gonna help you."

"Well, lets make a deal," Freed smirked. "If you go into your date with an open mind, I'll promise not to put this on YouTube."

Laxus went to ask what, but the lights lowered, and a projection appeared on one of the blank walls. Watching the video, Laxus felt his blood run cold and his body tense, and a glare was soon aimed at Freed for what he'd done. The grin, which could only be described as shit-eating, he got in return only went to further annoy him.

The video was of Laxus' previous date. All the instances of him falling off the course, and into the water, had been put into a montage, with ridiculously obnoxious circus music blaring behind it. Laxus looked like a damn asshole. When the footage slowed down, showing him getting punched in the face by a foam-covered fist, only to lose grip of the handholds and fall face first into a pool of mud, Laxus openly growled.

"Delete this."

"Absolutely not," Freed smirked. "You heard my terms. Give your date a chance and I'll make it disappear. If not, the whole world gets to see you looking like this."

"Yer an asshole, you know that?" Laxus asked, though he couldn't help fighting a grin.

"I do," Freed nodded, and Laxus barked out a laugh. "And your date is ready for you. Have fun."

Laxus waved a hand towards him, walking towards the door and adjusting his jacket as he did so. He supposed he would give this date a chance, just to avoid the humiliation of that stupid video being leaked onto the internet. If it went well, then he'd meet a guy he might be interested in. if it didn't go well, then he could spend the entirety of the next day planning some kind of revenge on Freed for forcing him to endure such a night. That would be fun.

---

The date had been… interesting. Freed was right, the guy had certainly been the closest to someone Laxus would consider getting into a long-term relationship with, and that had somewhat spooked him after the date had ended. He'd been completely certain that he wouldn't meet anyone even close to what he wanted, and hadn't allowed for any deviation from that mindset. Having that belief challenged was worrying.

The guy was smart, silver tongued, and pretty sexy. He wore a suit to perfection, knew all the right things to say, and was flirtatious by nature. Which was all good, and certainly wasn't a turn off, but it wasn't enough for Laxus. He was all too focused on flirting, and didn't show off the other facets of his personality, which Laxus had wanted.

But if he had done that, what then? What if he had a good sense of humour, or was passionate about random things and would happily speak of them for hours? Laxus liked men like that, and his date had been dangerously close to that.

What if he'd gotten Laxus to match with him? What would happen then?

Those thoughts were plaguing his mind as he walked into the preparation room. He hadn't prepared himself for actually meeting someone, certainly not someone he wanted to get serious with. Laxus didn't get serious with guys, he was more of a love them and leave them kind of guy. It was part of the reason he wanted to disprove this place; not everyone was looking to find a guy to settle down with, and Laxus saw himself as one of those people. But the entire selling point of THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM was that it matched people together in relationships that would last.

Who even was he when he was in a relationship? Would he be one of those people who obsessively cleaned their home to impress their partner? Would he have to constantly be thinking about dates and things to do? Would he have to buy the guy flowers? He didn't know how to do that shit. He didn't think he even wanted to do that shit.

"Laxus," Freed asked, cutting through Laxus' growing panic. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, fine," Laxus lied. He didn't say anything else.

Freed didn't push conversation, apparently noticing that Laxus wasn't in the mood for their conversations. Laxus walked to the small sofa that he'd previously ignored, sat down, and listened to the gentle tapping of Freed's fingers against the tablet. He closed his eyes and tried to drown out his thoughts.

He wasn't ready for the date this time, because if they were meant to get better each day, then the guy he'd be matched with next might one day become someone important to him. What if he fucked the date up and the guy didn't wanna match with him? What if the guy was perfect for him and he didn't feel anything? Maybe he'd spent years sleeping around, never being with the same guy for longer than a month, and it'd fucked him up somehow.

"If you'd like to enter the pod," Freed prompted, and Laxus looked up to see the clothing pod lit up.

Doing as he was told, he walked into the pod and waited for his clothes to change. After it happened, he felt that his pants had been replaced by something uncomfortably clingy, and he frowned a little. The frown turned to a grimace when he saw his reflection.

"The fuck?" He demanded.

He was dressed in all green, wearing tights and a slightly sparkling tunic. He looked fucking stupid; even more stupid that he had on the damn Wipeout video. He gaped at his own reflection, not entirely sure what to say. The whiplash from emotional turmoil to embarrassed confusion was overwhelming.

"The fuck!" He repeated.

"You'll apparently be performing as Peter Pan for your next date," Freed informed him, and something close to dread built inside of Laxus' stomach. What the fuck? What the fuck! How the fuck had anyone thought that was something he'd enjoy? Who could think he'd wanna be with someone who wanted him to… to perform on stage while looking like an asshole?

"I fucking am not." He snapped.

"The system states that you'll have a very high matching rate with her," Freed replied, before frowning. Laxus also turned to look at him. "You only wanted to be matched with men, didn't you?"

"That's right," Laxus nodded, voice low. It had set him up with a woman?

Freed looked down at his tablet, face scrunching slightly for a moment as he swiped and tapped at the glass, and Laxus tried not to enjoy the sight. He seemed to understand something, flicked on the screen a few more times, and the pod Laxus had left lit up again. Laxus frowned, looking towards it in confusion before turning his gaze back onto Freed.

"There was a blip in the system. Apparently your date and another man's date were mixed up. If you'd like to step into the pod again it'll give you your actual outfit."

Relief flooded through Laxus. There were certain things that he would have outright refused to do, and making an ass out of himself on a stage, dressed like a glorified pixie was certainly one of them. But the contract he had signed said he was obligated to undergo all simulations if he didn't find a match, as not doing so would harm the reputation of the company unfairly. Would Freed had forced him to do it if he hadn't noticed? Laxus hoped not, but he couldn't be sure.

The new outfit was a lot more simple. It was normal clothing, with a large winter coat and, he realised a moment before he tripped, his shoes had been replaced by ice-skates. He knew how to skate, so it wasn't a problem, and compared to what he'd nearly had to undergo, this was perfect.

"Would I have had to do the fucking performance if you didn't notice it?" He asked.

"I'm sure the system would have picked up the mistake before you went in," Freed dismissed, tapping on the tablet, and lighting the door to the simulation room. "You should go now. Don't want to keep him waiting."

Laxus glanced towards Freed, not commenting on how obvious Freed was being in his dismissal. He walked through the door to see an ice rink empty of everything but one man, who was skating towards him. As Laxus skated towards his date, all he could seem to think of was how much better this was than Peter-Fucking-Pan.

His previous nerves about the date were the last thing on his mind.

---

"So here's the thing," Laxus said as he walked into the prep room. "I think you lied to me yesterday."

"Lied about what?" Freed asked.

"This is supposed to be the most successful, most advanced matchmaking system in the whole world, right? It's unmatched and has years of coding and advancements in technology inside of it, right?" He asked, and Freed nodded. "So it kinda seems a little bit bullshit that it wouldn't understand that a guy who's gay would only wanna go on a date with other guys. Feels like that's one of the basic things it should get right?"

"That would be a fair assumption."

"So, if that's right, then it seems unlikely that it'd just happen to me. Seems even weirder that it'd happen conveniently when there's a guy watching over the sessions to pick up the mistake," Laxus walked towards Freed, maintaining eye contact. "All seems coincidental."

"I suppose it does."

"Yeah, it does," Laxus nodded. "So why don't you admit that you're the reason it happened."

"If you already know, what would me admitting to it do?"

Laxus laughed. He didn't know what he had been expecting when he decided to confront Freed with his realisation, which had happened half way through the date with the guy, but he hadn't thought he'd get an honest admission without a moment's guilt.

He wasn't angry about what Freed had done. If he'd gone on the date wearing the costume then he'd certainly be pissed off, but in reality he'd only worn the stupid clothes for a minute or two, and Freed had quickly replaced them with what he was actually meant to wear. In reality it was just a weird thing that Freed had decided to do for a reason Laxus didn't quite understand.

"You really just wanted me to look like a jackass?"

"No, that was coincidental," Freed admitted. "A happy coincidence, mind you, but not the reason I did it. You clearly had gotten overwhelmed by the possibility that the system might actually work, and you were getting in your own head about it. You needed to be shocked out of your own self-doubts, and it was the easiest way to do it. A simple ice-skating date is hardly a challenge when you've just avoided something ridiculous that you'd never enjoy."

Oh, that was actually kinda nice. Weird, but nice. Not what he expected. It was almost flattering, in a way, that Freed had chosen to help him at all.

Of course he couldn't actually say that. He'd entered the room with a build-up of energy, having expected he would need to force the truth out of him by repeatedly asking him. He had been so certain that it would take their entire time together, and it would end with Freed laughing and Laxus trying to salvage his own pride back. He'd half thought that his costumed self would be edited into the fucking Wipeout video to further add to his embarrassment. A kind, if not slightly odd, action was hardly what he expected.

"So, is it actually automated?" He asked, instead of voicing his thanks because it was the only thing he could think of saying. "Or have you just been saying it is while doing everything yourself."

"No, it's automated, but I can override anything should I want to, which is what I did."

"Show me," Laxus demanded.

Freed nodded, moving slightly so Laxus could stand beside him in front of the tablet. Laxus stood behind him, trying to ignore the fact that this was the closest he'd been to Freed, and he could almost feel the heat radiating off him. It was hardly an appropriate thing to think, particularly when he was going to be on a date with another man damn soon.

He focused on the interface. He saw a quick flash of what his date would be – another meal with a guy – before Freed overrode the system. He pressed a few buttons and ended up controlling the clothing pod. He loaded the program up, and was given a large interface of different outfits, all with pictures to show what they'd look like.

"It's surprisingly user friendly," Freed said, pressing a random outfit and loading it into the system. "Now if you went inside, you'd be wearing that."

"So even I could do it, then?" Laxus asked with a grin, and Freed faltered beside him.

"I suppose."

"What you did for me was pretty nice of ya, but I still ended up like an idiot in a costume because you made me wear it," Laxus mused aloud, and Freed audibly sighed beside him. "So if you think you're getting away without me turning the tables on ya, you're an idiot."

"I probably should have expected that," Freed murmured to himself, and Laxus laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder, and gently guiding him towards the pod. Freed didn't fight him.

"You should have," Laxus agreed, pushing him into the pod before Freed could second guess anything.

He stood at the tablet a moment later, knowing Freed was watching him. He swiped down the hundreds of outfits before inspiration struck him. He pressed the button for the search bar, typed in his idea, looked over the ten or so options before picking the one that looked the most ridiculous. He added it into the system, pressed the apply button, and grinned as the pod flashed with light. A moment later, Freed was revealed, and Laxus burst into laughter.

Freed looked ridiculous. Dressed entirely in an old-fashioned jester's outfit, purple and yellow, with a stupid hat covered in golden bells. He looked at himself in the mirror, crossing his arms unimpressed as Laxus guffawed at him.

"Holy shit," Laxus cackled. "What kinda date would need you to be dressed like that?"

"The system needs to cover all bases," Freed grunted, expression showing annoyance, but Laxus felt like a smile wanted to break through when the bells on his hat jingled. "Can I have my own clothes back, please?"

"We've got a couple minutes before the sim starts, that's enough time to have fun," Laxus grinned, scrolling through the recommended costumes. He found one, applied it to the pod and activated it.

A moment later, Freed was dressed as a circus clown, and Laxus spluttered into laughter all over again.

"Very mature," Freed mumbled sarcastically, though his words were slightly nasally because of the large red nose he wore. "I'm glad you're having fun."

"I am," Laxus grinned, holding back sniggers as he took in Freed for a moment before he began scrolling again.

This was an opportunity that he couldn't waste, and he'd get the man in as many stupid costumes he could before the date began. He quickly settled on a vampire costume that looked equal parts cheap and ridiculous. Once he applied it, he was slightly disappointed to see that Freed managed to pull it off with startlingly good looks. It was twenty-fifty-five, nobody should be able to look good while wearing a cape.

"The fact you're not complaining about this kind of takes the fun out of it," Laxus teased. "You like dressing up or something?"

"Not particularly, but I'd rather you be doing this than stressing about your date," Freed shrugged, seemingly all too comfortable dressed like a vampire. "Night six has the highest success rate. I thought you'd be panicking, this is better."

Laxus paused for a moment, but didn't say anything. He instead found another costume, and grinned when he saw how little it suited Freed. A clean-cut man like Freed didn't make a good caveman.

He fiddled with the tablet for a little while longer, flicking between costumes. Freed managed to make them look better than he had any right to do, but some of them looked ridiculous and Laxus decided to enjoy those as much as he could. A small timer at the bottom of the screen told him the simulation would be ready within the minute, and in a scramble to further annoy Freed, Laxus quickly picked a random outfit from the selection of superhero costumes. He had applied it before the lights to the simulation lit up, and smirked.

The smirk fell when he looked towards Freed. He'd expected it to be a cheap thing covered in cushioned muscles. The reality was… snug. Too snug for Laxus sanity, truly. He'd expected that Freed was hot as well as handsome, but having it clarified wasn't helping things. The guy was muscular, had a tight body, and biceps that strained against the fabric. Laxus pointedly didn't look down. That would be too much.

And he managed to pull off a bright red cape too. How? Capes were stupid. Not hot.

"You've had your fun," Freed said, and Laxus found solace in looking at his face rather than his very, very visible body. "May I have my own clothes back before you start your date?"

"Why?" Laxus asked as he stepped away from the podium. "Can't you do it yourself while I'm in there?"

"No, I can't," Freed muttered, and Laxus grinned.

"That kinda sounds like a you problem," He smirked, and Freed's face darkened for a moment as he stepped out of the pod. His cape billowed behind him and Laxus smirked. He patted the man on the shoulder. "I don't wanna leave my date waiting, after all," Without any reason to, he actually winked at Freed. "Enjoy your walk home, Superman."

As he entered the sim, he was fairly certain those few seconds of seeing Freed blushing unabashedly would be better than any date the system had in store for him.

---

"Is there something wrong with me?"

The high of messing with Freed hadn't lasted throughout the date, and the feelings had been replaced with a maudlin sense of nothingness. That was a feeling Laxus couldn't seem to get rid of throughout the day, and had persisted as he walked into the preparation room for the last time.

On paper, his date was his perfect man. He was intelligent and suave, well lived and happy to talk about his passions. He was hot, had the long hair that Laxus had always favoured on men, and had been pretty good company. He knew the guy was into him, and he felt like he should have reciprocated the attraction. This man should have been ideal for him, and yet Laxus had felt like he was going through the motions. It made him wonder, if that man wasn't right for him, then who the hell would be?

"What makes you say that?" Freed asked, who had been hunched over his table, furiously tapping at it before he'd entered.

"You said most people match with their sixth date. The guy was nice, good looking, we had interests in common," Laxus muttered. "Didn't feel anything for him."

"That doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."

"Maybe," Laxus didn't believe it.

He'd wanted to be the person who ruined THE S0U1MATES SYSTEM'S reputation. He'd wanted to be the person who proved that soulmates were pointless because they didn't exist, and even if they did, a computer program wouldn't be the way to find them. He just hadn't realised that, if he did prove that to be true, it would feel like a punch to the gut.

The system had a complete success rate! Everyone who had ever been involved found love. It was fact. Laxus was apparently going to be the exception to that. He was the first unlovable person to enter the program, and he would be the idiot who couldn't get a boyfriend no matter what.

It was shit. It was just fucking shit.

"Laxus, they're just dates," Freed said softly, placing a hand on Laxus shoulder in a comforting gesture. It felt like fire against him. "We dress them up with fancy technology, and we can explain the science in a way that makes it sound impressive, but a date is just a date. When you get two people together, they can fall in love within a moment, but they could also hate one another. That can happen to anyone, no matter what the statistics say."

"The statistics ain't got it wrong with anyone else."

"And you don't know that they have with you. People wait for the seventh night, and it works out for them," Freed assured him, the hand now gently massaging him. It was electric, and Laxus could almost allow himself to be thrilled by it. "And even if the man isn't the person you end up with, you'll find someone at some point. Don't put this on some kind of pedestal, all you'll be doing is meeting a man for the first time."

"The guy's meant to be my soulmate," Laxus scoffed. "It ain't exactly like meeting for coffee."

"It is what you make it, Laxus," Freed placated him. "Not matching with him isn't a failure of personality. It's just a thing that has happened, and it doesn't shape you."

"I guess," Laxus muttered, not exactly confident in his own words.

"You will find someone Laxus," Freed said firmly. "You're fun, intelligent, confident, good looking. A man is out there, and he will find you. Just give him time."

Freed didn't say anything else, and instead patted Laxus on the shoulder and returned to his tablet to do whatever it was he did. Laxus looked down at the floor, his nerves and self-pity only slightly at bay as he tried to agree with what Freed had said. He had come into the program wanting to prove that it was false, and he should have known this would be the outcome.

Focusing on his own problems, he didn't notice the slight change in posture from Freed. His eyes had widened, and he was tapping somewhat manically at the tablet. His teeth were gritting together and his heart hammering. A moment later, he stood up, and Laxus frowned when he saw how tense he looked.

"Don't overreact to this," Freed demanded, voice too calm. "This is a glitch, nothing else. The system has flaws, this is apparently one of them."

"What?"

He took a moment before speaking again. "Apparently you haven't been matched with someone tonight," Freed spoke quietly, almost under his breath, and Laxus felt as though he had been shot. Freed was quick to speak before Laxus could spiral. "This is the program not being able to work as intended. It is not a reflection of you. Do you understand me?"

"Fucks sake," Laxus growled, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck!"

"It's not you, Laxus," Freed tried to tell him, but Laxus was walking towards the door. He needed to leave, to get out of this damn place as quickly as he could. Why the hell had he gone there? He was an idiot. He shouldn't have gone. "Wait. Laxus, don't leave."

"Why the hell shouldn't I?"

"Because I don't want you to," Freed said quickly. "I don't want you to feel like you're… whatever it is your feeling. Because whatever it is, whatever you're telling yourself, is false."

"How the hell do you know?"

"I've watched every date of yours, Laxus. I know you, and you are a good man, and anyone would be happy to have you," He insisted, stepping towards Laxus, and placing a hand on his forearm. "If I'm honest, I found myself somewhat jealous that those men got to be with you. I'm sure I could find hundreds of men who would feel exactly the same. Truth be told, I had to stop watching you talking with that little blonde ass last night. It's unprofessional, I know, but it must be said. You are a man who, one day, will be adored and you will deserve it."

Laxus scoffed. "Sure."

"You're incredible, Laxus," Freed stepped closer, placing a hand on Laxus' cheek. Laxus blushed at the action despite himself. "And if this program has made you think otherwise, even for a moment, then it is pointless. Do you understand me?"

"You think I'm incredible?" Laxus asked, voice a little raspy as he looked down at Freed.

"I do."

"Then do something about it," Laxus whispered because he needed Freed to do this.

And he did.

Freed leant forward without hesitation, tilting up his head and slowly, cautiously pushed his lips against Laxus'. His hand remained on Laxus' cheek, and slowly he started to move his lips in tandem with Laxus', opening his mouth slightly as he pushed himself up against him. Laxus wrapped an arm around Freed's waist, and felt himself clinging to the man as if he were a lifeline.

The kiss could only last a moment, and when Laxus pulled away and was met with the slightly flushed, kiss swollen expression of Freed in his arms, all of his doubts seemed to flow away. This was more important.

"Damn," He whispered, and Freed breathed out a laugh.

"Yes," He agreed. "Damn."

"Wanted to do that from when I first saw ya," Laxus admitted.

"And I you," Freed confessed, smiling. "I must admit, watching you with those men became somewhat torturous by the end."

"Would've stopped if you told me," Laxus shrugged.

"Then you might not have come back, and I didn't want that any more than I wanted to see you match with someone," Freed chuckled.

They stayed in their embrace for a moment, Laxus gently stroking Freed's lower back with his fingers in a slow and comforting gesture. Freed was still cupping his cheek, and it was a delightful sensation that Laxus didn't want to break. He would have to at some point, and he found himself at a loss of what to do next. For a moment he considered asking Freed to set up some kind of simulation for them both, but he felt he'd had enough of the damn place for now.

"You wanna maybe go somewhere and get something to eat?" He asked, and Freed pulled back slightly with a smile.

"That'd be nice," Freed agreed, though then smirked. "Though are you sure it's not too boring? Wouldn't you rather ice skating? Or maybe a boxing match? Or an obstacle course that you keep failing at?"

"Don't be a dick," Laxus laughed, pulling himself off of Freed. "Or I'll drag you back to the pod and you'll have to go to dinner dressed as batman. Dunno how happy a restaurant is gonna be with the Dark Night's cape falling in the soup."

"I'd rather avoid that. My roommate already thinks me odd after what you did yesterday, I don't need anyone else agreeing with him," Freed laughed, and Laxus grinned at the confession. He wrapped an arm around Freed's waist as they began to leave the room. "Though, if I could get you in the Peter Pan costume again I couldn't complain. Those tights were rather flattering."

"Didn't realise you were lookin'," Laxus smirked.

"I was more subtle than you were, then," Freed grinned, and Laxus laughed.

As they left the room, the simulation unused, neither man noticed the screen of the table lighting up with an updated message.

Laxus Dreyar.

Profile = Matched.

Soulmate Level = 100%

#Fraxus Week #Fraxus #Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #Fairy Tail #Fanfic #Writing #One Shot #Future AU #Soulmate AU #Wordcount 8.5k

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