#yin i’m kissing you through the phone this is so sweet

[itsprincessdianabitch]

Pretty Pictures Pt. 1

“Pretty Pictures on a screen when I’m with you its like a dream,”

No one knows her, not really, not anymore. There is something mysteriously satisfying about being utterly alone in a room full of people who love you. Beth has mastered packing away a part of herself to maintain her anonymity. So she cries in closets and showers, lies awake at night watching the ceiling spin, and stays quiet. 

Beth’s journal lay beneath her, dawning nothing but the date, the end of her pencil tapping silently on the side of her cheek. Today was her birthday. On most birthdays, she’d enter an endless spiral of existentialism, considering her oncoming death and whether or not she’d lived up to her potential. Today, all she can think of is him. 

“I thought you hated your birthday,” he laughed. The playground the two of them occupied was empty, but she felt so full. He dug his hands into her back, propelling her into the stratosphere and waiting for her to return to Earth. The swing creaking beneath her weight was nothing but background noise.

“Yeah, but I love you,” Beth’s eyes traced the stars as her mouth hung open in amazement. Could life possibly get better?

Beth’s journal lay beneath her, dawning nothing but the date and a name. 

“Connor,” you whisper breathlessly. She snaps her journal shut and throws it on the ground. She rolls onto her back, not in the mood to do much, not in the mood to discover why she had written her ex-boyfriend’s name in her journal like a middle school girl. She wasn’t in the mood for much these days, opting for quiet nights in doom, scrolling on her phone over seeing friends and family. A dark cloud of despondency had taken over her life from a young age, and now that she’s older, she has the opportunity to just sit with it. It had become a part of her, the yin to her yang; one could not mention one without the other.

“Beth. Beth. Beth!” She heard coming from the other side of her bed, interrupting her slumber. 

“What, Connor?” she responded groggily. 

“ Love, you have to wake up, you have class.” She peeled open her eyes slowly and pushed herself onto its side, facing the other body on her bed. Connor reached over, running his fingers through her bangs, which had been in disarray. Her face’s rouge was unmistakeable. Since the day they met, he always had a way of making her shy.

“But I want to stay here in bed. With you.” She said while batting her eyelashes.

“I’m not going to fall for that again, babe.” He smiled and kissed her on the nose.

Beth’s alarm rings for the fifth time, waking her from her second nap of the day. If she could, she would sleep forever. She lived in her dreams in a way she couldn’t live in reality. She stands up from her bed, and momentarily, everything fades to black. She pushes her hands out. 

“Wow, I stood up too fast,” She said. She had been wearing the same pajamas for three days and hadn’t showered in even longer. Beth’s pocket began to buzz. She reached in and noticed it was her mother calling. She didn’t pick up. She didn’t feel the need to. Tomorrow, she’d pick up the phone, today, she would write. 

Beth picked back up her journal and began to write anything that came to mind. She let herself spiral to keep her mind away from everything else going on in her life. Instead of focusing on the reality of her situation, she sprialed in the would’ve, could’ve, should’ves that she has had tucked away in her mind for this moment. She wrote about the cardinal in her window cill that reminded her of her grandfather, she wrote about an orange tree garden on the top of a hill she once visited in LA. She recalled the sweet smell of the blossoms and how you could see the entire city from the garden, it made her feel small. Suddenly her writing was interrupted by a knock on the door. 

Knock, Knock. She lifted her head slowly, waiting for another knock that had never come. She lifted her body from her bed and crept toward the door. Looking through the peephole, she says nothing but an empty hall. She opened the door. Looking both ways, she saw nothing until she looked down. Upon her doormat lay a bundle of flowers. She picked them up curiously, looking for the note; when she found it, she looked back to the outside of her doorway, making sure no one was there. All it read was: “Happy Birthday - C."

[critical-thinking-is-mandatory]

Chats and Bags

Marinette and Adrien have been happily married since they left school and she finally feels ready to tell him the truth. She’s Ladybug and Guardian of the Paris Miraculouses. Unfortunately, maybe the cat should have stayed in the bag.

Marinette slumped back against the closed door with a tired, but satisfied groan. She toed off her heels and wriggled sore, sweaty, stockinged toes.

“Honey!” Marinette called into the apartment. The lights were on, casting her home with warm, soft light, and the tv hummed quietly from the loungeroom. She hung her coat on the hook by the door and stretched, padding into the kitchen. “Adrien, I’m home.”

“Princess!” Adrien hopped down from his perch on one of the kitchen’s bar stools and came bounding towards her, smiling brightly. He scooped her up into a hug and span them both around, giggling like a little girl. “How was work?” Adrien set her down with a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“Good, we finally got all the kinks worked out for the Winter bridal line but that’s not important right now. I’ve got something really important to talk to you about.” Marinette smiled and took Adrien’s hands in hers. “How about we talk over dinner?”

Adrien winced. “Oh. I already ate.” Ah. Marinette spied the emptied takeout containers sitting abandoned on the kitchen bench. One person’s serve. Adrien caught her and flashed a blinding smile. With the sparkle in his eye and Adrien’s perfect smile, Marinette couldn’t find it in herself to be annoyed despite the hunger gnawing at her belly. He bounced on his toes. “I can listen while you eat.” Marinette shook her head and smiled, ignoring the tightness of hunger in her belly.

“That’s okay, it can wait.” Marinette took a deep, steadying breath. “Just- just sit down, I need to go get something.” Adrien perched on a barstool, still smiling brightly. Marinette padded away down the hall to her workroom. Tikki floated out of her blazer pocket and smiled encouragingly when she was at eye-level.

“You can do this Marinette!” Tikki chirped. She flitted about, practically dancing in the air. “It’s Adrien! You two have been in love for years, telling him you’re Ladybug will just make your relationship stronger.”

Marinette steeled herself, confidence boosted. “You’re right Tikki. I can do this. I’m Marinette!” Marinette powered into her workroom and burrowed down to the bottom of her scrap fabric chest. She pulled out the wooden box at the bottom and Tikki phased into the lock and the box popped open on well-oiled springs. Inside, cushioned by stained scrap cloth, was the Miracle Box. It had changed as Marinette grew older and wiser in her role as Guardian, turning from the giant spotted egg, into a baby pink briefcase style sewing kit.

Marinette took one more deep breath to steady the shaking of her hands before reaching in, drawing out the case and standing in one movement.

“Okay.” She smiled nervously at Tikki. “Let’s do this.” Tikki gave Marinette one more bright smile before hiding away in Marinette’s blazer again. Tikki’s weight in a hidden inner pocket, nestled close against Marinette’s side, was soothing and familiar enough to spur Marinette on once more.

Marinette left the workroom behind her and with each step down the hall, towards Adrien, her dear, sweet, perfect Adrien, the box in her hands grew lighter. With every step Marinette took she got closer to finally, finally being able to share her burden. Closer to never having to keep another secret between them ever again. Marinette had everything else she’d ever wanted, and the only thing standing between Marinette and Adrien’s future (with three kids and a hamster) was one teensy, tiny, itty bitty little conversation.

“Phew!” Marinette said to break the quiet, too loud, and she winced when Adrien startled.

Adrien looked between Marinette and the case curiously, perfect golden brows furrowed in a mix of obvious confusion and curiosity. “Your sewing kit?” Marinette perched on a stool opposite Adrien, taking her time to straighten the kit on the island between them. She forced herself to meet Adrien’s eyes, suddenly trembling with nerves.

“Not just a sewing kit,” Marinette murmured. Just do it. Like ripping a band-aid off. She opened her blazer and Tikki floated out, giving Adrien a cheery little wave. “It’s the Miracle Box. I’m Ladybug, Adrien.” Tikki giggled and settled on Marinette’s shoulder.

For his part, Adrien seemed unphased. He smiled brightly with that little twinkle in his eye Marinette had always adored.

“Adrien?” Marinette gently pressed. She didn’t want to press him for a response but his silence was making her heart tremble. Adrien’s smile grew to a thousand-Watt beam and he seemed almost to vibrate in his seat.

“I’m so glad you finally told me,” Adrien chirped. He reached out and brought Marinette’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and then another to her sparkling wedding ring. “Now we don’t need to keep secrets between us!” He pressed another kiss to her knuckles before grinning dashingly. “Plagg.”

“Plagg?” Marinette whispered. She felt cold and hot all at once. “So you’re-“

“Chat Noir, yes.” Adrien grinned in that smug, ‘cat that got the canary’ way Marinette had come to expect only from her partner. Seeing it on Adrien’s face made her stomach flip and decidedly not in the butterflies and curling toes and shivers down her spine way. “I’m so glad you finally told me M’Lady, it’s been agony not being able to call you My Lady every day.” Marinette’s blood froze.

“What did you say?” She whispered. Ice crept through her veins and closed her throat.

“I’ve wanted to call you My Lady for years, and now I finally can!” Adrien pressed yet another kiss to Marinette’s knuckles before ploughing on. “Well I’ve known for years M’Lady!” Adrien – Chat – Adrichat? practically purred. “Ever since I saw you leaving my room after gifting me my favourite beret.” He sighed dreamily, apparently totally ignorant of the ice in Marinette’s blood slowly creeping from her blood into her expression. “It was Fate, M’Lady, and look at us! Together forever because you finally saw that we were made for each other.”

That phrase was painfully, heartbreakingly familiar. “Adrien, I don’t understand. Are- what are you saying? Did you only marry me…because you knew I was Ladybug?” Marinette’s eyes burned with potential tears. “I thought you loved me.”

Adrien finally seemed to realise things weren’t completely fine and dandy because his expression fell into that kicked puppy look he was so good at. “Of course I love you Bugaboo! You’re the Ladybug to my Chat Noir, the yin to my yang, the creation to my destruction.” Marinette snatched her hand out of Adrien’s grasp and his expression crumpled like tissue paper.

Marinette stood, her stool scraping and Tikki dislodged from her shoulder. “My name is Marinette.” Her breath hitched and she snatched up the Miracle Box, clutching it to her chest. “You know I hate it when you call me Bugaboo. You know that.” She stumbled back when Adrien stood, still smiling that cat grin.

“There’s no need to play coy anymore, Princess,” Adrien purred. “We’ve been married since we were eighteen.” His stare grew hot, eyes darkening and he circled round the island. Marinette shifted towards the doorway. “You and I know each other intimately.” Adrien pressed closer still. “What are you so upset for? We’re happy together, aren’t we?”

“You lied to me!” Marinette shouted. Her outburst seemed to shock Adrien almost as much as it shocked Marinette herself. “Did you really only love me because you knew I was Ladybug? Would you have even considered dating me, marrying me, if you thought I was just plain old Marinette?”

“Well what was I supposed to do? You wouldn’t let me in as Chat, so when I knew for sure who you were behind the mask how was I supposed to resist?” Adrien demanded and if Marinette had any doubts he was Chat Noir they were thoroughly, utterly trashed on the floor. No one else could be so entitled, so, so pig-headed! That was the last straw. Marinette steeled herself.

“I’m going.” Adrien startled. “I…I need some – some time to myself. Don’t call me. I’ll-“ Marinette’s breath hitched and she forced herself to continue past the lump in her throat- “I’ll call you.” Marinette fled, barely remembering her coat and shoes as she bolted out the door.

“M’Lady!” Adrien called. “Princess!” His voiced cracked, clearly nearly in tears. Adrien’s heartbroken shouting cut off with the closing of the elevator doors. Marinette let out a sob, finally breaking in the relative comfort and safety of the elevator.

Tikki fluttered up to pat Marinette’s cheek sympathetically. “Oh Marinette. It’ll all be okay.” Marinette swiped roughly at her eyes, drawing away the tears that were starting to fall. Tikki gave her a soft, sad-eyed look. “You should call your parents, Marinette.”

“But it’s so late and they need to be awake early tomorrow to open the bakery and if I keep them up too late-“

“Marinette,” Tikki interrupted firmly. “Your parents love you, call them.” Marinette gave in, pulling out her phone just as the elevator doors opened. Tikki hid away in Marinette’s blazer. Marinette dialled her parents’ number, slipping her coat on one arm and her shoes back on as she listened to the dial tone.

“What if they don’t pick up?” Marinette worried. She didn’t have to.

“Marinette, honey?” Her maman answered. “Is everything okay, sweetie? You’re calling quite late.” Marinette sniffled.

“Maman can I- can I come stay tonight?” The doorman gave Marinette a nervous look as she passed and she realised she probably looked awful, with her tear-streaked makeup and her coat only half on. The thought only served to make Marinette feel worse and she gave a small wail that echoed in the empty street. A stray cat hissed and skittered out of her path.

“Oh sweetie, sh sh. Of course you’re welcome, Marinette. Do you want me to come pick you up?” Marinette wiped her nose on the back of her hand.

“No, that’s- that’s okay Maman.” Marinette sniffled again, listening to the click of her heels on the sidewalk as she collected herself. “I’ll be there soon,” Marinette assured her maman. She forced a wobbly smile even though Maman wouldn’t be able to see it. “I promise.” Marinette hung up and turned her face to the sky. The moon was washed out by the streetlights, and any light that may have made it past was smothered by city smog. Altogether a fittingly depressing picture.

In all of Marinette’s fussing, her planning, making contingency plans for her contingency plans, never had Marinette considered that Adrien already knew. Knew and never told her and and and- Marinette paused in the middle of the path and shrieked, stomping her feet and barely resisting the temptation to sit down in the grime of the sidewalk and cry like a little kid. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

[lihikainanea]

i’m shy and get embarrassed easily, so i have NEVER SAID WHAT IVE WANTED but i can’t hold back anymore, I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT. actually, it’s not a want, it’s a need.

i need a really sub tiger (whimpering, spaced out look, needy, sucking on his fingers, etc) and daddy bill. sweet nani. TIGER call him daddy. i need big protector and provider vibes from bill.

also, i’ve read every single one of your posts ATLEAST 15 times. this page right here, feels like a safe space.

much love

ohhhhhhhh thank you bb! I love messages like this <3 I'm glad you submitted an ask, that's a big step--I'm proud of you, boo. This space is open and safe for everyone, it's all I've ever wanted to create, so to hear you say it--to know that you felt comfortable submitting an ask--bubs, that makes me so happy <3

I'm feelin soff and subby tiger these days. Not only because of this deadly heatwave that has been sweeping the entire fucking continent, not only because work has been hell on earth, not only because I'm finally on vacation next week after not taking time off for a year and I feel like I'm crawling towards the finish line, bruised and battered, on all fours pleading for mercy.

Oh wait, that's exactly why I'm feeling soff and subby tiger these days, so small and where she can just disappear into her bubble of safety and just know that she'll be taken care of.

If you’ll allow me to self-project for awhile, as I’m wont to do rather frequently--maybe tiger has had to be Boss Bitch for awhile. She’s not having a hard time at work--no no, quite the opposite actually. She’s killing it. Stepping up when she has to, working long hours. Maybe her boss quit all of a sudden (hello, self-projection again!) and tiger is just stepping in and getting shit done. And ike a Queen, that ‘tude is bleeding into other aspects of life. Bill has a wonky shelf that needs fixing and while he’s usually quick to fix those things, it’s lagging and tiger just thinks--fuck it, and fuck you too. Bill comes home and she’s power drilling the thing back in place. Changing the light bulbs. Replacing the battery in her smoke alarm. Doing all the groceries. Cooking. Working late into the night. Picking up his dry cleaning. Her friend is going through a bad break up--tiger is there, packing her shit up with her, finding her a new apartment.

Tiger can sometimes be a bit of a procrastinator--which Bill likes, because then he gets to step in and do things for her and he loves the smile she gives him when he does that--but lately? Bill can’t get there fast enough. Tiger is handling it all, knocking it out of the park, and making it look easy.

The problem is she also kind of works herself into a tizzy--because tiger doesn’t like having too much control. She can absolutely do everything herself, but part of what she enjoys so much in her dynamic with Bill is that she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t have to be in control, or have all the power. She can give that to him, and she can just float in that place free from all burdens and responsibility and know that she’ll be taken care of. There’s an immense power in relinquishing control. And like everything, tiger swings violently from one extreme to the other--she has all of the control, she’s handling shit, she’s handling shit like a boss--until she gets real small, because she doesn’t WANT to handle this much, she doesn’t want to be the boss bitch anymore, she needs a balance where she can be ballsy and courageous in her professional life but that balance comes from being able to be subby with Bill, being able to be put on her knees and be his good girl.

Yin and yang.

And Bill senses it. He probably knows by the crazy twitch in her eye, her subtle irritability, the way a problem no sooner arises that tiger is throwing some power tool, some 7-step coaching programme, some advice from years of therapy--just something at it. Bill barely has time to mention that something in the house needs fixing, let alone fix it himself--because tiger is all over it and then some.

Bill knows the pendulum is swinging just a leeeeeeeetle too far one way.

And maybe the next day when tiger gets in from work--she has a list of shit she needs to get done tonight, and she’s still tapping away more on her phone: bake brownies for a work potluck, fix the chain on the toilet, scrub the bath tub, build the IKEA shoe cabinet she bought, give Bill head because it’s been awhile, put the final tweaks on a presentation. And her nose is in her phone when she walks in the door, so she doesn’t see Bill standing there in the hallway--doesn’t see the way he has his arms crossed, the authoritative set to his jaw, his pinched eyebrows.

“Hiiiiiii,” she calls out blindly down the hallway as she toes off her shoes, drops her purse on the floor.

Bill doesn’t respond. Her eyes are still on her phone, her thumbs going a mile a minute.

“Did you get the drill bits I need?” she’s still yelling because she hasn’t seen him yet, “That fucking IKEA cabinet Allan key bullshit won’t--oof.”

She walks right into his chest, stumbling back a step or two as she startles. And then she notices--notices how tall he’s standing, notices the set in his eyes, his clenched jaw. His crossed arms.

“Hi,” he says simply, lowly.

“Hi,” she stammers, “I uh, didn’t see you there.”

“I know,” he says--and then he reaches out, takes her phone from her hands. He puts it in his back pocket and crosses his arms again.

“On your knees,” he says.

“Why?” she mumbles it before she can stop, and it’s just automatic when she’s been like this--question everything, oppose everything, demand answers. But Bill just cocks his eyebrow, bends a little at the waist and gets his face in close to hers.

“You don’t get to ask questions tonight,” he whispers, and it’s soft but deliciously menacing and threatening. Tiger bites her lip, and she’s so mesmerized by him, already so turned on, that she’s rooted to the spot and she doesn’t move.

“Tiger,” he says harshly, “I won’t repeat myself.”

“Oh,” she snaps to her senses, shaking the fog from her brain. She drops to her knees. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

“Do you like all of this, tiger?” he weaves a hand in her hair, gently tugging it so her eyes are on him, “All of this control? All of this power?”

“I don’t know.”

“Try again,” he says, “All of this responsibility, fighting everybody’s battles. Taking care of everyone else--but who is taking care of you, hmm? Who’s taking care of my sweet girl?”

And her walls are starting to come down, that pendulum is starting to swing back ever so slowly in the natural direction.

“I am,” her voice cracks, and she says it so lowly he barely heard it.

“What’s that?”

“I am,” she says again, just a twinge louder but even then it’s barely a whisper.

“You are,” he says, “Just handling everything like a big girl. And do you like that? Not letting me take care of you? Not needing me?”

“No,” she admits.

“And is that part of our deal?”

“No,” she says again, leaning forward and bunching his pant leg in her fist. She just wants to touch him, wants to be close to him, and Bill would never stop her from doing so in moments like these. He presses his thumb to her lips, easing it inside. She sighs and her shoulders sag with relief.

“Then I think we need to fix that, don’t we?” he asks, “I miss my sweet girl.”

She whimpers around his thumb, inching on her knees closer to him and resting her forehead on his thigh.

“Do you want me to fix it sweet girl?” he murmurs, “Get you back right again?”

She nods, but he snaps his fingers and he swears that she moaned a little.

“Yes,” she says immediately, “Please, Bill.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” he says, and he withdraws his thumb from her mouth, closing his hands around her shoulders and lifting her so she’s standing in front of him, “I think I need to hear that a little more.”

She whines, but he slams his lips to hers. He kisses the hell out of her, all tongues and teeth, pulling away as she gasps for breath.

“If you want me to fix it kid,” he purrs, “Then you’re going to beg for it.”

[nostalgiahan]

Euphoria

word count: 4k (holy shit)

genre: smut

content/warnings: explicit sexual content, threesome, restraints, pillow humping, oral (both receiving,) anal (m receiving,) face sitting, consent, discussion of boundaries, aftercare :)

pairing: dom!chan x sub!felix x afab/switch!reader

a/n: it is heavily implied that felix goes into subspace at the end! however you can interpret it however you want <3

You never planned on having two friends with benefits at once, but it turned out to be better than you could have ever imagined. You were originally just looking for someone to take your emotions out on after a long day, break them down to the bone and then put them back together again. You found that in Felix, your perfect boy; always obedient and eager to please, even if that meant getting orgasm after orgasm cruelly denied or being overstimulated to the point where his lithe frame was shaking and his eyes were puffy and red from tears. In the end, though, you were always there to calm him down, to rub lotion into his sores and to kiss his bruises better, to run your fingers through his hair as he cries into your chest. That’s what makes it worth it for you.

However, soon enough, you became burnt out. Domming Felix was fun, but it was tiring, and sometimes you just wanted to be taken care of. This lead you to Chan; similar to Felix in some ways but entirely opposite in others. Where Felix was timid and obedient, Chan was outgoing and domineering; ready to degrade you and pound you into his creaky bed or call you sweet names and milk multiple orgasms out of you until you were relaxed; whatever you happened to need that day.

So here you were. You had thought for some time about introducing them to each other; after all, they would fit together perfectly. Chan was the Yin to Felix’s Yang; one unabashedly dominant and the other perfectly submissive. You would love to just sit back and watch their dynamic play out. However, you also felt that doing that would make things more than just casual, and you weren’t sure how either of them felt about it. That was, until after one of your sessions with Felix.

You two were in the bath, his back against your chest, and you thought he was asleep until he turned around to press a peck to the top of your breast, his favorite way of getting your attention.

“What’s up, Lixie?”

“Um, I’ve been thinking about… something. Lately.”

“Yeah? What is it, baby boy?”

You maneuver him so you’re both sitting up in the tub, facing each other. At that, Felix averts his gaze.

“What do you think about, maybe, bringing in another dom?”

It’s silent for a bit before Felix speaks again.

“I mean, it’s okay if not. It’s just… you’re a really good dom, but I’ve been thinking lately about how hot it would be to be dommed by… two people at once. I don’t know. I feel like it’s weird.”

You bring a gentle hand under his chin, guiding him to look you in the eyes.

“Sweet boy, it’s not weird. I’ve been thinking about it too.”

You pull him against your chest again, and your hand returns to his hair.

“I have another friend with benefits, you know. His name is Chan. He’s a really good dom, and I’ve been thinking about introducing you two for a while.”

Felix relaxes noticeably against you, nuzzling his face into your chest.

“How about I text him right now?”

“Mmm. Bath first.”

“Of course. We’ll finish our bath, and then I’ll fix you some tea, and then we’ll text him. Sound good, Lixie?”

Felix nods against your chest, and not five minutes later, he’s dead asleep.

About half an hour later, the two of you are in bed, phone in hand. You’ve already shown Felix Chan’s pictures, and he seemed intrigued, given the way he shifted in his spot and gulped a bit louder than he probably intended to.

“Alright, Lixie, what do you want to say? He already knows that you’re my sub, but not much else.”

“Uh, we should probably get straight to the point, I guess. Something like, ‘Hi, my sub and I want you to fuck us.’”

He giggles, a cute sound that makes the air in the room feel lighter.

“Okay, maybe that’s too forward.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Felix is still giggling slightly as you type out a draft in your Notes app.

“How does this sound, baby boy?”

Hi, Chan. My sub and I were talking about how we might want to introduce another person into the bedroom, and I’ve been thinking about introducing you two for a while. Is this something you’d be interested in?

Barely a minute passes before Chan replies. It’s short, but it’s all the two of you need to hear.

Of course

The three of you settle on a time and date, about a week later. You didn’t have the foresight to set up a group chat or anything of the sort, so you’re going into this completely blind. Whatever. It’ll be fine.

The first one to arrive is Chan, and he has a duffel bag with him. Expected, but a bit intimidating.

“We could’ve just used my stuff, you know.”

“Eh, it’s more fun this way. Then I get to surprise both of you.”

You scoff but walk across the room to hug him. He takes you in his arms and chuckles when he feels you practically melt against him.

“Long day?”

You just sigh and Chan pecks the top of your head, squeezing you even tighter.

“Don’t worry about a thing, baby. Just let go for tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A few minutes later, Felix walks in, carrying nothing but his keys and phone. He sets them down nervously on the table by your front door before latching onto your side like a shy child might with their parent.

“Hi, lovely.”

Felix makes a muffled noise into your shirt but doesn’t move to greet Chan.

“What’s wrong, baby boy? Nervous?”

Felix pulls away to nod, gaze fixed firmly on the floor. Chan coos before approaching Felix slowly, just trying to get a closer look at the boy.

“You’re more… intimidating then I thought you’d be.”

Chan smiles wide and giggles brightly at Felix’s statement.

“Don’t worry, Felix. We don’t have to go faster than you’re comfortable with. Besides, we still need to have a talk about boundaries.”

Felix nods slowly, seemingly pleased with Chan’s statement.

“By the way,” you say, the two boys perking up at the sound. “I ordered pizza, it’s in the kitchen. We can have dinner and talk, and maybe you two can get to know each other.”

Felix jumps up, nervousness seemingly forgotten as he rushes to the kitchen, a big smile on his face. He rips the pizza box open, grabbing a slice for himself and shoving it into his mouth unceremoniously, forcing a giggle out of you. As everyone gets their pizza and settles down, you turn on some soft music and invite everyone to sit on your couch. You figured it would be better to have this conversation on neutral ground. Felix immediately curls into your side, now staring inquisitively at Chan, who’s sitting on your other side.

“So, uh, I figured we should just establish some hard boundaries first. Lix, do you want to go?”

Felix nods and grabs his phone from the side table, seemingly opening something on it.

“I wrote down what I wanted to say so I wouldn’t forget.”

Both you and Chan smile at that.

“So, uh, I can’t really handle intense degradation. I can do it if you mix in nice words, but I much prefer praise. I like knowing I’m doing well. Uh, and no bodily fluids or gross stuff like that. And aftercare is really important for me. I need a lot of it.”

Chan nods, looking attentively at Felix.

“Pretty much anything else other than those things is fair game.”

Chan leans in just slightly.

“So what do you like, Felix?”

Felix looks back at his phone, the tips of his ears and nose turning a light pink.

“Uh, choking. And pain. And, uh, praise, obviously. I like being marked up, too.”

Felix’s face gets adorably redder as he reads off the items on the list. You look over and notice Chan is trying to cover the outline of his half-hard dick in his sweatpants with a slice of pizza.

When Felix is done, Chan asks him another question which makes Felix choke on his own spit.

“What do you like to be called?”

After taking a moment to collect himself, Felix speaks up.

“Uh, I didn’t write that down.”

“That’s okay. If you remember later, just tell me.”

“Okay. Well, uh, Lixie and Lix are always good. And uh, baby boy, or any variant of that, really. And, uh…”

Felix murmurs the end of his sentence and although you already know what he said, you still lift his chin up with your hand and guide his gaze towards Chan’s

“Go ahead, Lixie. Tell him your favorite pet name.”

Felix looks away, and in a very small voice, says,

“Kitten.”

Chan’s eyes visibly darken and he shifts in his seat, clearly trying to restrain himself until the conversation is over. You smile contentedly, and decide to continue the conversation yourself in fear of Felix becoming impossibly more flustered.

Eventually, the conversation comes to a close, and the three of you stand up to head to your bedroom, Chan grabbing his bag which Felix didn’t notice until now. His eyes widen and he grabs your hand, squeezing hard. You squeeze back to offer him some reassurance as the three of you slip into the bedroom.

Turning Felix around to face you and taking both of his hands in yours, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Are you still nervous, baby?”

Felix nods and looks away again.

“You know we can stop any time if it gets too much for you, right?”

He nods again.

“I want to do this. I’ve just never done this before.”

“That’s okay, Lixie, just try to relax, okay?”

He nods and you let go of his hands, turning towards Chan.

“Is everyone good with using the traffic light system?”

The both of them nod.

“What is everyone’s color?”

Everyone says green.

“Alright. Lixie, why don’t you sit on the bed for me?”

Felix, ever obedient, sits with his hands in his lap, fingers nervously picking at the sleeves of his hoodie. You approach him carefully and take his face in your hands, leaning down to kiss him gently. He immediately reciprocates, falling into the comfortable rhythm that the two of you share. Chan watches from the sidelines until you pull away, beckoning him with a small tilt of your head. He pads over softly until he’s standing in front of Felix, running his hand through the younger boy’s hair. Felix tentatively places his small hands on Chan’s waist, and the older smiles before leaning in slowly to kiss him. It starts out slow and sweet, but soon Felix is grasping at the fabric of Chan’s shirt, letting out tiny whimpers into his mouth. It’s adorable, watching Felix fall apart like this.

You decide to sit behind Felix on the bed, wrapping your arms around him for a quick hug before dipping your hands under the hem of his shirt, letting them explore the skin there. Felix whines at the unexpected touch but keens into it, prompting Chan to pull back and pull Felix’s shirt off.

He’s flustered at first, covering his chest with his hands, until you pull them away and start brushing your fingertips over his pert nipples. He lets out a long, drawn-out whine, arching into your touch.

“Does my pretty boy like having his nipples played with?” Chan asks, smirking down at Felix. He nods frantically as you increase your speed, causing him to squirm even more in your hold. Chan hums appreciatively before motioning for the two of you to scoot back on the bed, and when you do, he settles in between Felix’s legs and starts to mouth at his cock through the younger’s jeans. Felix cants his hips up into Chan, but the older is having none of it and pushes his hips down violently, coaxing a gasp out of him.

“Stay still.”

Chan unbuttons Felix’s jeans and and pulls them down, along with his underwear, agonizingly slow, relishing in the younger’s sigh of relief. He’s already fully hard, and it must hurt.

“This worked up already?”

Felix nods frantically, just trying to get Chan to get on with it. Chan walks away, and retrieves a pair of pink leather cuffs from his bag.

“I’m told you look pretty in pink.”

When Felix stays silent, you lean up from where you’ve been sucking gently on Felix’s neck to murmur in his ear.

“Is that true, Lix? Tell him.”

“Y-yes, I look pretty in pink.”

Chan nods approvingly as he snaps the cuffs around Felix’s wrists, securing them behind his back. He assumes his position between Felix’s legs again, hands wrapping around his now bare thighs, shocked to find that his hands are big enough to wrap around almost halfway. He can feel his dick twitch at the thought of being so big that he can literally split Felix in half.

When Chan wraps his lips around Felix’s tip, he can tell the sub is using all of his self-control not to fuck up into his mouth. However, nearly as soon as he starts, Chan pulls off, leaving Felix whining for more.

“Tsk. Be patient, kitten.”

Chan’s ego swells when he sees Felix’s dick jump at the pet name. He looks towards you, where you’re still kissing all over Felix’s neck and shoulders, running your hands up and down his sides, and lifts your chin up, giving you a quick kiss.

“What do you think about helping out our y/n? They deserve it for introducing us, don’t you think?”

Felix nods, but tugs at the cuffs restraining his arms. He wants so badly to touch, but he knows Chan won’t let him.

“Go ahead, then. I’ll get you started, yeah?”

Felix can only nod as he watches Chan undress you to your underwear, rubbing his fingers lightly over your slit and reveling in the low groan you let out, completely opposite to Felix’s whining.

“Alright, go ahead, baby boy.”

Felix looks at Chan, confused. How was he supposed to get your underwear off if he couldn’t use his hands? Chan just shrugs and sits back on his heels, undressing himself and palming himself through his underwear as he watches.

Felix tries to be sexy and pull your panties down with his teeth, but he can only get them down an inch or so before he gives up. He eventually settles for just mouthing at your clit over your underwear, but it’s still not enough. He switches between your clit and nipples before just giving up for the second time and sitting back, looking at his knees dejectedly. Chan sighs before moving Felix aside and huffing in fake disappointment, pulling down your panties and unhooking your bra with his hands.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Felix whines, but he yelps when Chan delivers a harsh slap to his thigh. 

“No talking back.”

Felix sighs and huffs out a “fine” before leaning against you, signaling that he wants you to touch him.

“Poor Lixie. That must hurt, huh?” You gesture towards his cock, angry red and straining against his stomach. He nods and you hum, reaching out a hand to stroke him slowly.

“You remember what Chan said, baby boy?”

Felix nods.

“Yeah? What did he say?”

“Stay still.”

You hum approvingly and continue to stroke Felix lightly, squeezing involuntarily as Chan’s lips wrap around your clit and suck. You try your best to keep going as Chan licks up your slit, making lewd slurping noises that cause Felix to thrust up into your hand. He doesn’t process that he did until he feels another slap on his opposite thigh and your hand move away from his cock. He whimpers to try and get your attention, but both of your hands are tugging at Chan’s hair, and all Felix can do is watch.

Eventually, Felix’s helpless whines catch Chan’s attention and he grabs a pillow from the head of the bed, tossing it in Felix’s direction.

“You want relief that badly, huh? Be patient for us, kitten. For now, hump that. I’m busy. And don’t you dare cum until I tell you to.”

Felix whines but complies, situating the pillow between his legs and rutting into it as he watches Chan eat you out.

Meanwhile, your eyes are screwed shut as Chan picks up speed, letting out loud moans that only make Felix more desperate for you. You can feel your first orgasm quickly approaching, and you make sure to let Chan know. He just hums against you and sticks two fingers inside of you, making you nearly scream in pleasure. Your grip on his hair grows ever tighter as you beg him to let you cum. He pulls away just slightly to give you permission, and almost on command, you’re cumming all over his fingers and tongue. Chan just laps it up eagerly and shifts his gaze to focus on Felix, who’s rutting into the pillow faster and faster.

Chan lifts Felix’s chin up and kisses him hard, almost toppling the poor boy over with the force of the kiss. He slows down, and eventually comes to a stop, panting as tears line his eyes, threatening to fall from how desperate he is to be touched again.

“Come here, baby boy. You were so good.” Chan unclasps the cuffs and Felix takes a moment to stretch his wrists. Chan kisses the spots where Felix tugged too hard and left red marks, causing the younger to look away and blush.

As Chan is leaning Felix back on the bed, kissing down his body, an idea pops into the sub’s head.

“Hey, Chan, uh…”

“Yes, Lixie?”

“I was wondering if, uh.”

Chan cocks his head and rubs his thumb over Felix’s cheekbone as he waits for him to finish his sentence.

“Yes?”

“Uh, if it’s okay with you, I want you to fuck me.”

A short silence passes before Felix covers his face with his hands, trying desperately to backtrack.

“I mean, it’s okay if not! I know some people aren’t really into that, and, uh, it was just a suggestion, but if not-”

Chan silences Felix with a kiss.

“Sweet boy, all you had to do was ask.”

Felix sighs in relief.

“Y/N, why don’t you help prep our kitten?”

You nod and reach towards the bedside table where the lube and condoms are kept.

“Lix, is it okay if I fuck your mouth?”

Felix sputters out an overenthusiastic ‘yes,’ bringing his hands towards Chan’s thick thighs. The older just laughs and discards his boxers before situating himself on Felix’s chest, the sub’s mouth watering at the sight of Chan.

Chan has just started pushing gently into Felix’s mouth when you put your first finger in, slicked up thoroughly with lube. He moans louder than you’ve heard him all night when it’s fully situated, at which Chan groans and pushes in further. You can’t see what’s happening, but the sounds give you a clear enough picture, sloppy and wet and absolutely filthy. When you tease a second finger at Felix’s hole, he groans, causing Chan to buck forward into his mouth.

When Chan sets a steady pace, you push a second finger in, and then a third. You don’t purposefully aim for Felix’s prostate, but you must have hit it because a moan even louder than the ones before it reaches your ears and a gush of precum dribbles out of Felix’s slit. You decide to treat him and wrap your lips around his tip as you stretch your fingers out inside him. Chan just keeps fucking into Felix’s mouth faster and faster, and you can tell he’s getting close, but he pulls out right before he cums, much to Felix’s dismay.

Chan gets off of Felix’s chest and rolls on a condom as you decide he’s stretched out enough.

“Ready, kitten?”

Felix nods, whining desperately. There are tears tracks drying on his face, which must have been from Chan fucking his mouth just moments before.

At first, you just want to sit aside and watch as Chan takes your pretty kitty apart. You do for a bit, reveling in the way that Chan throws his head back as he tries not to cum right away from Felix’s tightness, or the way Felix bites on his knuckles and arches his back as Chan pushes into him. However, once Chan is fully settled inside Felix, resting a comforting hand on the smaller boy’s inner thigh, you have a better idea. Crawling towards the two of them, you give Felix a soft kiss before setting yourself over him, dripping heat right above his mouth. You’re facing Chan and he gives you a look, but when you say in a low voice that face sitting is Felix’s favorite, he nods.

You can feel puffs of air on your cunt as Felix tells Chan to start moving. Then, you lower yourself onto Felix and when his tongue starts circling and gently biting at your slit, you throw your head back in pleasure. Chan grabs the back of your neck and tugs you in for a kiss, and it’s more of an exchange of spit and clashing teeth than a kiss but it works.

Chan starts fucking faster into Felix and the younger lets out a loud, high-pitched moan, his mouth leaving your cunt as he lolls his head back onto the pillow. You reach behind you and grab his hair, pushing his face up into your slit rather forcefully. His licks and sucks get more frantic as Chan thrusts even faster, and he lets out moans into you, wrapping his arms around your thighs for purchase.

You can feel your second orgasm of the night coming on.

“Can you keep holding on for me a bit longer, baby? I’m close too.”

Felix moans frantically, freely fucking himself back onto Chan, nearly screaming when Chan holds his hips up to more easily hit his prostate and wraps a hand around his dick. Chan hammers that spot over and over, Felix letting out helpless moans and screams as he approaches his high. Chan can tell that he’s close, but he knows Felix won’t be able to ask him for permission to cum in his fucked-out state.

“You can cum, Lix. Go ahead and let go for us.”

With a strangled scream, Felix cums hard onto his own stomach. Chan follows soon after, letting out a low, loud groan as he rides out his high inside Felix. You reach a hand down to your clit to finish yourself off, body convulsing as you fall over onto Chan. He pulls you against his chest as he stills inside Felix, the three of you breathing heavily. When you get off of Felix, you notice that he’s fully crying.

“Lixie, are you okay?”

Felix just groans, staring at the ceiling with blank eyes. Chan pulls out and discards the condom as you pull Felix’s head into your lap and stroke his hair. His entire body is limp.

Chan once again returns to his bag and pulls out a big fluffy blanket sporting a paw print pattern and a few extra pairs of clothes. He drapes the blanket over Felix, tucking it in around the sides and brushing some stray, sweaty strands of hair from the younger’s forehead.

Felix’s eyes flutter shut, and you lean into Chan, exhausted.

“That was… really good,” you say groggily.

Chan just nods, putting an arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head tenderly. You busy yourself with threading your fingers through Felix’s hair and trying to get all the knots out. Chan reaches over for the clothes and tugs a shirt over his head, wiggling his legs through some sweatpants. The two of you work together to wipe Felix down and dress him in a similar outfit, before you pull on a sweater and a pair of sweatpants identical to the ones that Chan is wearing.

After a bit of maneuvering, you’re sandwiched in between the still asleep Felix and a very, very, tired Chan.

“Do you want to do this again sometime?”

You laugh hoarsely and nod. “We’ll have to ask Felix when he wakes up.”

“Oh, I’m sure he won’t be opposed.”

You hum, and Chan wraps his arms around you even tighter then they were before, pulling you closer to his chest.

“Pancakes and bacon when we wake up?”

“Absolutely.”

[starbuckie]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

challenge: the cbc 1k writing challenge by @captainscanadian​

prompt: “do you treat all your hookups like this?”

pairing: carter baizen x reader

words: 4.7k words

warnings: fluff, angst, assault, swearing, some degrading comments, and implications of the sexy times 

summary: waling up next to one of New York’s most eligible bachelors brings on a lot more than what you expected.

a/n: what’s up y’all! i’ve essentially been dead for the past two weeks, but i’m back! i lost motivation for a bit, but i feel a lot better now, and what better way to come back then a little carter baizen? i ended up writing a lot more than originally intended, but i like the way it turned out. anyways, enjoy, and thank you for all of your support<3 

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

As you awoke with a long stretch and yawn, memories of the previous night had you smiling like an idiot. Sunlight streamed from the half-closed blinds of your windows and the smell of coffee wafted to your room from the kitchen. You grabbed your lover’s dress shirt from off the floor and slipped a pair of satin slippers on your feet. 

The night before had been amazing. It had started with a beach reception when you had finally caught his eye. The two of you had been playing a game of cat and mouse during the whole wedding, only giving lustful stares and shy smiles, but when you finally had a hold of each other, your night only got better. The rest of the night had the sounds of only tearing clothes, pants, and moans. 

Snapping out of your sweet reverie, you stared at the man in your kitchen. His bare back was faced towards you, giving a great view of his shifting muscles while he made pancakes. A bowl of mixed berries were laid out on the table, along with strawberry syrup and mugs of Peruvian coffee. “Do you treat all of your hookups like this, Baizen?” 

Carter, finally noticing your presence, turned around and gave you a heartwarming smile. He flipped the last few pancakes over and walked over to wrap his arms around your waist. Burying his face into the crook of your neck, he mumbled, “Haha, cute joke. After everything we’ve been through babygirl, this was definitely not a hookup. And I only treat my favorite person like this, so eat up.” He gestured towards the food on the table and with a quick kiss to your lips, turned his attention back to the pancakes.

You sat in one of the chairs and took a sip of steaming coffee and looked out of the ceiling to floor windows surrounding the room. The New York City skyline would never get old from this view, no matter how long you and Carter had had this penthouse. Sighing, you looked down at your left hand, the sun casting light on the diamond on your fourth finger. 

You had been engaged for only six months, but it didn’t feel like anything new. At the age of 33, you didn’t feel any different than you did ten years before or even ten before that. Hell, you always knew that you would be Carter’s friend, but one drunken night had changed that very quickly.

As your fiance joined you at the table, he set a plate of warm pancakes in front of you. Sure, he could have had your housekeeper, Marybeth do it for him, but he also liked pampering you himself. Together, you sat in silence and stared out the windows. Carter tore his eyes away from the city to study your face. He would never understand how after twenty years of friendship, it ended with him finding his one love and putting a ring on your finger. 

“Hey, baby?” He asked, and you hummed and met his gaze. “How’d we even get here?”

You smirked and replied with, “Well, I walked from the bedroom, but I don’t know about you?”

“Don’t be cheeky,” he said, pinching your elbow. You swatted his hand away and smiled. “Anyway, what I meant to say before I was so rudely interrupted, was how did I end up with the most beautiful girl on the Upper East Side?”

“Well, if I recall, it started with me being fed up with your stupid ass, and you finally confessing that you had been madly in love with me since we were thirteen.”

“And I still am.” He moved towards you to place his lips on yours. “You’re mine now, baby.” You grinned against his lips and went to sit on his lap.

“Mr. Baizen, you’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you. With that cute little schoolboy outfit, and your hair! Oh god, remember-”

With a playful glare, he cut you off as you giggled. “We do not need to talk about my middle school style, fiancee, but I will gladly talk about when I fell in love with you.”

“That sounds good.” You smiled at each other and went back down memory lane, into your long, long, shared history.

20 YEARS EARLIER

Looking in the mirror, your maid had finished tailoring your school uniform. When she deemed you presentable she scurried out of the room to help your mother, and you immediately went to call your best friend.

“Carter, are you ready for our first day? We’re finally in eighth grade. Next year I’ll be headed off to Constance and you’ll be going to St. Judes, and there’s gonna be a whole ton of hot guys-”

Your friend’s chuckles were heard through the phone. “Y/N, we haven’t even begun the first day yet.”

“Yes, I know, but we’ll be one step closer to the best years of our lives!” Your mom’s voice called you from downstairs. Oh crap. Only the Lord knew that Andrea L/N did NOT want to be kept waiting. “Okay, my mom’s coming, but we’re coming to pick you up right now. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“See ya soon, Y/N.” You smiled at his voice and responded.

“See ya soon, Baizen.” You hung up the phone and ran to your vanity. Making sure your mascara wasn’t smudged while you had dressed, you spritzed on the Chanel perfume you had stolen from your mother's room. Truth be told, you only dressed up for Carter, but you would never tell him that. 

His parents were two of New York’s socialites, famous and wealthy, so they got along well with your parents. Though your dad didn’t pay too much attention to you, your mother made sure you kept up with your grades and social life. She was always the shoulder to cry on, offering you wisdom and advice. Not to mention, but your mom was a fantastic shoe designer. She was truly the greatest woman you knew. The two of you grew up closely with his sister Caroline, from the time you were babies to now. Caroline had gone to a boarding school in France in the fifth grade, but that didn't tear your friendship, and only made it stronger. However, while you stay poised and polite, Carter had always had a bit of a bad boy streak. Albeit, he was charming and sweet, sometimes too much for his own good, but the two of you were opposites. Yin and yang. Sun and moon. At the age of thirteen he was the Upper East Side’s darling sweet-talker, who had girls and boys alike fawning over him. 

Including you.

You never realized when you had started developing feelings for your friend, but it was a huge shock to you. It helped that he was cute as hell, but you got to see the sweet side of him, that was respectful and caring. He always made sure you were comfortable and happy, giving you a small sliver of hope that he liked you back. You always helped him, whether it was being a wingwoman, or giving him schoolwork, you were always there at his beck and call. 

The next seven years were absolutely painful for you, however. In high school, he charmed the skirt off of every single girl at Constance, and constantly blew you off for hookups and dates. When he was cut off and went to travel the world, you called him to make sure he was okay, though he always seemed fine to you. You stuck with him through everything, and the more you went on, you barely knew the man who claimed to be your best friend. 

Dating Serena was the last straw. You were twenty-one, studying political science and business to hopefully one day become a lawyer. Your father had disapproved of your majors, but your mom fully supported you. 

Sighing and putting your textbook away, you stood up and went to put something on for the party you were invited to. Normally, you would have stayed in your NYU dorm, but Carter had miraculously managed to get you to leave, claiming you needed to meet his girlfriend, who you didn’t know at the time. You grumpily slipped on a champagne sequin dress, and grabbed your white stilettos to match. After hailing a cab, you were off to Blair Waldorf’s house, unknowingly driving to the end of you and Carter’s friendship.

You had to admit that the party wasn’t half bad. Blair certainly knew how to decorate, and it wasn’t hard to believe, considering her mother was the infamous designer, Eleanor Waldorf. You bumped into a lot of old classmates from your high school years, and grudgingly exchanged greetings. When you finally found Carter, he had his arm slipped around the waist of a pretty blonde, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. He turned around, and let out a smile that normally would have made you happy, but instead filled you with dread. 

“Y/N! You made it! This is Serena Van der Woodsen.” As you went in to hug your friend, you were stopped by none other than Serena's hand stuck out for you to shake. 

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you.” You stared into her blue eyes, and were immediately filled with envy and irritation.

You had no right to be mad. You knew Carter could date whoever he wanted, but at this point you didn’t care. Exhausted, you started to yell at the couple.

“Really, Carter? You go off to travel some other goddamn countries and come back to date a high schooler? A child? Who the hell do you think you are?” The entire room went silent, all of their attention focused solely on the college girl who went crazy. Serena stared at you, absolutely dumbfounded. As she came to her senses and started to yell back, Carter stopped her.

“Y/N, let’s go outside,” he gritted out. His eyes were burning red, and you could tell he was furious, which was never a good thing.

However, at this point your emotions were so heightened that it rivaled his anger. Once the two of you were outside the building, he started lecturing you. “What the fuck was that, L/N? I introduce you to my girlfriend, and you start yelling at her. You have no control over who I date, and you have absolutely zero right to insult them. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

He knew he had hit a sore spot there. He knew your deepest insecurities, how you were self-conscious about your body, and how you were saving yourself for the one. No one had ever looked at you throughout high school, and even if they had, you would’ve been too blinded by Carter to see any of them. He had always had you wrapped around his finger.

You chuckled mirthlessly. “You are such an asshole, Baizen. I have been there for you for years. I was always there to make sure you had done your homework, I looked after you, I fucking lied for you. I have done everything for you, and for fucking what?”

“So you yell at my girlfriend? I never knew you could stoop so fucking low, Y/N.” He glared at you, on the verge of tears, and saw that your face was already wet as well. “Oh, poor you. Cries whenever someone raises their voice at them. You had no right to say those things about her. What are you, jealous?”

Your heart stopped beating in your chest. It was the longest five seconds of your life, as tears ran down your face in hot paths, and he stared at you, for once, not knowing what to say. 

“You are.” His gaze turned sympathetic. “Wait, Y/N, I never knew-”

“It doesn’t matter, Carter,” you yelled, “I don’t fucking care anymore. I’m not gonna go on loving you, because it’s never gonna happen and I can’t sit around to wait for you. I’m done.” With that, you left, his last memory of you stomping off into the streets of Manhattan at midnight. 

PRESENT

“That wasn’t my best moment exactly.” You cringed, face flaming from your actions that had taken place that night.

Carter placed his hand on your jaw and rubbed your cheekbone. “It wasn’t your fault, I was kind of an idiot. But in a way, I’m kind of grateful, because that really woke me up to what was happening outside of that little bubble I was in. It made me see what I had lost, and remember that it was you who finally saved me from the hole I was digging myself farther into. You were my hero. Still are.”

You grinned bashfully. “But then we ended up seeing each other two years later at that other party.”

“Oh god, the party,” he smirked, “we had some fun then, didn’t we?”

“I can’t remember, we were both drunk as fuck.” 

10 YEARS AGO

The last two years had changed you. You had still focused on school and kept up with your studies, but the old Y/N was no more. Carter Baizen had ruined your life, and now you were just getting a taste of what you had missed out on in high school. A barrier surrounded your heart, with the one rule of no man staying in your bed for more than a night. You had a reputation to uphold, of course. Every social event now had your name on the attending list, and guys were lining up at your feet for a night with you. Your hair was longer, the clothes you wore out flashier and your style rivaled that of Serena Van der Woodsen’s. You were unattainable and everyone knew your name.

Your father’s private jet flew in on the evening of December twentieth. Merula, your family’s maid, helped carry your bags from the jet and your mom greeted you with tons of hugs and kisses. However, that didn’t last very long, as you had a party to attend. Going up to your old room, you took a quick, yet luxurious bath, and went to fix yourself up. Your old closet was still intact, and you were happy to know that the short red dress you had bought five years before still fit you. After you slipped on the dress and your black heels, you curled your hair in loose waves, and swiped on some dark red lipstick.

You were dead set on getting laid tonight. But then again, when weren’t you?

With a goodnight call to your mom, you ran out to the limo waiting outside your family’s penthouse. Giving the driver the address, you pulled your compact mirror from your Valentino clutch. Flawless. Like any other night. Paying attention to your looks was now tiring. And this life was lonely. You hadn’t had any friends besides Carter at the beginning, but now you were truly by yourself.

Carter. You hadn’t thought about him in a long time. In your furious haze after the incident two years ago, you blocked him on all forms of social media, and ignored any headlines from Gossip Girl including his name. It was lonely, naturally, but you had enough men filling your bed to avoid you from the empty void in your chest. The void that was filled with whispers telling you to apologize, to call him, to take him back, because the truth was that you missed him like hell.

The party was full of college kids, neatly dressed in the chandelier-lit room. Ugh. So far you couldn’t see any lookers. A couple of guys who looked like they were in their late twenties were eyeing you up from the corner, and grabbing a flute of bubbly champagne, you headed in their direction, licking your lips. As you crossed the room, you could feel more eyes on you but you didn’t dare look at them. No, you liked being in charge, controlling the room. Heels clicking against the marble floor, you blatantly checked out the tall blonde in the middle. He was pretty handsome. Cropped hair, a muscular frame, and electric blue eyes that kind of reminded you of Carter. 

Stop thinking about him, go get laid.

You stopped in front of him. “Hey, pretty boy. Can I get your name?” 

He wasn’t even fazed by your flagrant introduction. You were absolutely shameless, and though you received glares from the other women in the room, you couldn’t have cared less. “I’m Steve. What’s your name, beautiful?”

You opened your mouth to speak and Steve’s eyes widened as he saw the figure that shouted out your name, abruptly stopping you. “Y/N?”

Freezing, you prayed that it wasn’t him. His voice that haunted you daily, and made guilt and sadness pool in your gut. It had to have been your imagination. You started again. “Sorry, but I’m-”

“Y/N.” Turning around, you came face to face, well, face to chest with Carter Baizen. He had grown taller since you had last seen him. Even with the noticeably darker bags under his eyes and growing hair, he was still as gorgeous as ever. 

“Hey, Carter.” Steve had walked away by then, not wanting to intrude, but at that moment, he was the only person you needed. Heart beating in your chest, you finally met Carter’s eyes. “How are you?”

His mouth was gaping a little, taking in your form, seeing that it was so much different than it used to be. “I’m good.” Pausing for a moment, he added, “You look great.”

A blush rose to your cheeks and you managed to mumble out, “Thanks.”

“Can we talk?” 

That’s how you ended up outside on an empty balcony overlooking Manhattan. Taxis and honking were heard, but it was fainter due to blood rushing in your ears. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. “Carter, before you say anything, I want to let you know that I’m sorry. I really am. Last time we saw each other, I knew what I did was wrong, and though I was in love with you, I had no right to be upset.” Sighing, you placed your hand in his. “Can we be good again? I really hate how we left things off.”

Silently, he nodded his head, eyes wide and subtly taking you in again. The last two years hadn’t been kind to him, after Serena dumped his sorry ass, and he ended up with no money and nowhere to run to. His mom had allowed him to stay in the family house for a while, and his father was even giving him a second chance at running the company, but it wasn’t easy for him. He was slowly spiraling down, and only when he saw you did he wake up and take a look at himself properly. He looked like a piece of garbage next to you. He hadn’t even gone to school, and here you were, even more beautiful, which he never thought was possible, and a successful law student at Harvard.

“We’re good, Y/N. I brought you out here for another reason though.” He paused and looked at you as you nodded for him to continue. “It’s been a few years, I know, and I shouldn’t be saying this now, but I miss you so much. These past few years have made me realize how much of a fool I am for you, but God, I’m in love with you, Y/N, I always have been.”

You stood up, anger coursing through your veins. Now? When it’s most convenient for him? No. You needed to get drunk. “I’m sorry Carter, but I fell out of love with you one hell of a long time ago.” Swallowing the lump rising in your throat, you continued your lie. “You made your decision, I made mine. I wanted to be friends, Carter, but I can’t have that laying around us.”

Stomping away, you heard the crestfallen voice of Carter. “Y/N, wait, please.” He stumbled his way over to you, and caught your hand again before you ripped it away. “Please, Y/N, please, I’m in love with you. I’m sorry I was such an ass, I was so stupid, please.”

Tears fell from your eyes as you shook your head. “I need a drink.” 

He numbly nodded as you made your way back inside, asking one of the servers for a gin. You needed to get drunk. It was a necessity at this point, and as you got more and more tipsy through the night, you found your way back with Steve. By now the party had started to get crazier, people making out in corners and drunkenly stumbling everywhere. Steve held you up as you grinded against him, but stopped when you felt his hand go up your dress. 

“No, no thank you,” you slurred.

He smirked, giving you a steely glare. “You’re asking for it with this slutty little dress and winding me up.” He forcibly grabbed your wrists and started to drag you to a bedroom. “I own you tonight, baby.”

Before you could scream, someone came over and punched Steve in the jaw. You were speechless, staring at his already bruising face. Once again, you were being pulled away, only this time, out of the party. The person dragged you back to your place, and your drunken mind asked, “You wanna come in?” 

Without another word, the two of you were attached by the mouth, clothes being thrown haphazardly around your room. Earlier events from the evening wiped from your memories, and you could have only hoped that your parents weren’t home. Falling into your bed, you and your unknown lover tore up the bedsheets for several hours until you both drunkenly passed out.

When you woke up the next morning, you looked up. You silently thanked yourself for closing your windows before you had left the other night, and only then realized you were cold, naked, and in your own room. 

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself. Throwing on a robe from your closet, you looked around seeing the scattered clothes from you and whoever you had spent your night with. They were still here.

You flew down the stairs at a record-breaking speed, and slid into the kitchen, risky business style, and saw a familiar head of brown hair sitting at the table. “What the fuck, Baizen?”

Carter calmly turned around, smiling as he blew into his coffee. “Damn, Y/N, good morning to you too.”

Scoffing, you grabbed the newspaper he held in his hands and started to whack him with it. “Ow, what the hell?” He grabbed your wrists to calm you, then pulled out a chair next to him for you to sit. Reluctantly, you sat and frowned at him, raising an eyebrow to ask what happened. “Do you treat all your hookups like this?”

“Did we…” You didn’t even want to finish that sentence.

“Sleep together piss-drunk after you told me you didn’t love me back after two years? Yes, we most certainly did, beautiful.” Though your face burned red at the old pet name, you asked for what had happened. “Well, the asshole you were dancing with tried to get you in bed, but I came over and punched him, while we were both still drunk, and I got you back here, and you offered me to come inside and we fucked.”

Your eyes were comically wide, and he would have found the situation really funny if his heart weren’t beating erratically inside his chest as he awaited your full reaction. “So,” you started, “you're still in love with me.”

He tried not to let his embarrassment show, but his cheeks flamed anyway. You smiled genuinely, but you were terrified of whether he meant it or not. “Do you mean it, Carter?”

You stared into the depths of his eyes and he answered, “Yes. I’m so sorry that I was a horrible, horrible friend to you, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. And I know you already expressed how you felt about me, and let me say, I understand completely. If you want me to, I’ll walk out of that door right now, and you won’t have to see me again. But if you let me stay , I’ll spend every waking moment of my life making sure you feel happy and loved, and making it up to you.”

He stared at you with pleading eyes, and held your hands gently. Suddenly, stinging tears obstructed your vision, and you whimpered. “I love you, Car,” you gave him a watery smile, “never stopped.”

His eyes started to tear up as well, and smiling you finally pressed your lips to his, taking in the moment. The past few years had been torturous for you both, dealing with the loneliness and pain from your broken friendship, but slowly and surely you two built trust. It took a long time, and you took the relationship slowly, but patience was key, and it was all worth it in the end.

PRESENT

“And now we’re here?” You asked. Carter combed his hand through your hair, the soothing action making you rest your head on his shoulder.

“And now we’re here.” He glanced down at you, smiling and pecking your lips.

“Damn, we had one dramatic-ass story.” He chuckled at that and sighed.

“We sure did, baby. But hey, look at us. We’re on top of the world right now. We have a wedding in a few months, you don’t have any cases, and I have the most beautiful girl in the world in my arms right now.”

You smiled against his neck. “Hey, Car?” He hummed against your hair, looking out the window. The sun had fully risen, making the room glow. “I know we haven’t had this discussion in a while, but are we ready to have kids?” His brow furrowed, but he said nothing. “Car?”

“I mean, sure, we’re both doing so well right now, and we could raise a kid here, right? We’ve got an empty bedroom right across from ours, and we’ve got plenty of space here. I think with the combination of me and you, we’d have a pretty great kid. They’d definitely have my eyes though.” 

“They better have your eyes.” You looked up at him. “So pretty.”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead. “The wedding’s coming up pretty soon though, so we can start trying after that.” You laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Before we get too old.”

You smirked and rolled your eyes. “We’re thirty-three, Carter, we aren’t that old.”

He laughed and said, “I guess you’re right.” Heart beating in your chest, you sighed loudly. “What brought this on?”

You cupped his cheek and took a deep breath. When you had taken the test a week before you had been elated, only to freak out after realizing Carter might not feel the same. But you had been okay for ten years, right? When the two of you had finally gotten together, it did take a lot to find that balance in your relationship, but hell, you were getting married in a few months. Carter was your best friend, number one supporter, and fiance, so you prayed that he would be just as excited. 

“Carter, I’m pregnant.” Looking at him dead in the eye, you hoped that he would be happy. You awaited his reaction for a few seconds, and you wanted to scream in anticipation.

And then you saw it. 

His eyes started to water, and his hands moved to your stomach. ”Really?” He asked, voice wavering. You nodded, eyes beginning to tear up as well.

“We’re having a baby, Mr. Baizen.” You laughed joyfully, as he picked you up by your waist and you wrapped your legs around him. Hands found their way around his neck as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

Tears poured from his eyes, as he laughed. “I love you so, so, much, baby.” Hiding your face in his neck, you giggled some more. “God, we’re having a kid. I swear on my life, I’ll do everything to make sure you and this baby are happy for the rest of our lives.”

And he did. Not such a bad hookup after all, now was it?

[spacegirlapollo]

Birthday Party for Two (Aizawa x Female Reader

Title : Birthday Party for Two 

Pairing : Shouta Aizawa x Female Reader 

Genre: Fluff / Smut 

Summary : I’m really bad at summaries but its some fluff then its some smut lmfao thanks for reading ! 

Steam hissed out of the electric iron as you pressed the steaming button. It was warm on your skin in the freezing cold of you and your husband's apartment. It was a simple and small space and both of you liked it that way. You especially loved the feeling of the cold wood floor underneath your feet in the morning, even if other people thought you were weird for that. 

Besides the dimly lit lamp in the corner, the perfectly white button up shirt on the ironing board were the only things lighting up your small living room. Inside the room was a long couch and a desk with a desktop that you and Aizawa shared. It was scattered with a mixture of your work papers and his students papers. 

The red light on the iron turned on letting you know that the iron was ready for use. You thought of your husband as you begin to press the hot metal over his shirt. It was 3 am in the morning and Aizawa had finally gone to sleep in your shared bed. 

You’d left work early to bring him lunch that day, because you were sure he didn’t bring any to work that day. One of his students Katsuki Bakugo had been kidnapped the night before by the League of Villans and, even if he didn't show it to his students, he was a wreck. You were greeted with small tight lip smiles when you’d walked into the teachers office carrying his lunch. Everyone was too busy with damage control and meetings to chat with their former co-worker. 

You’d worked for U.A for years, working side by side with Aizawa before you had the idea to open up your own company. It was still getting off the ground but you wanted to create a safe space for abandoned and homeless children with dangerous quirks. 

Usually Aizawa was able to sense your presence when you were close but today he had his head on the desk. His long black hair was cascading past his shoulders since he had it in a bun. It was your favorite look on him. But you knew that, usually the bun meant business. A single email web page was open on his computer. You softly put the food down on the table and knelt down next to him, placing a soft hand on his back. 

“Shouta?” You almost whispered. It hurt your heart to see him like this. He was always the composed one of the relationship. Always the one to ease your anxieties and be the yin to your yang. If you were freaking out, he was extra calm, soothing even. When he was extra anal you were there to help him loosen up. It was a good system. He opened his slightly bloodshot eyes and looked over at you. You could tell that he had been close to sleep but not quite there yet. 

“ Mei.” He said softly. It was his voice that he used when you were all alone, in your cold little apartment, and you couldn't help but give him a small smile. He was so cute without meaning to be. 

“I brought you some lunch. Come and eat with me.” 

You didn't phrase it as an option, because if you had, he would have declined politely and returned to his current state. 

You could see the reality of this setting into his eyes and he nodded, defeated but not upset. 

You stood up grabbing food you’d brought and made your way out of the room with him. The other staff were still busy chattering nervously about the current situation. 

It was a quiet walk back to your car which you chose because it would be quiet. You honestly hadn't planned on eating there. You were going to just drop off the food and leave but seeing him made you sad. 

In the car he ripped into the food quietly and it dawned on you that he probably hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours. You caught yourself staring at him and you looked down at your own food and started to eat. 

“ I’m sorry” he said after a while, half of his food was gone. You turned, your mouth full of food surprised. 

“For what?” You asked bewildered. He looked up at you and your brows furrowed further. He seemed genuinely upset. 

“ Your birthday is tomorrow.” he said. “ And the principal has asked that I come with him to do the press conferences tomorrow. I won’t be able to celebrate with you.” 

You’d completely forgotten that the next day was your birthday. With all the news and worrying about Bakugo and Aizawa, it flew out of your head. 

“ Shouta.” You said, swallowing your food and pointing your fork at him. You always did this, waiving something around when you reprimanded him and he secretly loved it but he wasn't going to tell you that. He loved that you’d come to see him, even if he didn't have the words to say it outloud. He was drowning in his thoughts and just your hand on his back was enough to pull him to the surface again. And you looked cute, he thought, cheeks full of food waving a fork in his face.

“ You don’t have to be sorry! It’s just a birthday. And of course with everything going on right now, it can wait!” 

He opened his mouth to say something else but you bulldozed on not letting him speak. 

“ And were married, so I plan on spending a lot of birthdays with you. So not celebrating one out of the rest of our lives isn't a big deal. Besides I’m more worried about you not eating! You should really- “ 

You paused abruptly as he cupped your face and brought you towards him planing a small kiss on your forehead. You didn’t know it but you had said all the right words. He loved knowing that you thought about being together until you were old. 

He pulled away and continued to eat his food quietly. You smiled inwardly. It was his way of saying “ I love you, thank you, but please shut up” without having to say anything. And so you did shut up, munching along with him in a nice silence. 

He eventually left, taking the trash with him and leaving with a much nicer, much longer kiss before exiting the car. Even from behind though, you could tell he was still stressed, and a little sad. 

---- 

So here you were 3 am on your own birthday ironing his clothes for his press conference in secret. He’d come home late, and you’d gotten out of bed to see him doing even more work at the little desktop. You didn’t bother him though, and right at 2:30 am he got into the bed with you, thinking you were asleep as well. 

You knew he wasn't thinking things all the way through, and that in the morning, he would be in a flurry trying to get ready and be calm and collected. Ironing his clothes and looking presentable was one less thing you wanted him to worry about. 

When it was finished you hung it up in the room, and proceeded to make his lunch as quietly as you could in the kitchen. 

With food and clothes ready, you crawled back into bed tired, falling asleep listening to the rise and fall of your husband’s breath. 

--- 

It was 7 am when Aizawa rose, feeling his phone alarm vibrating in his pocket. He quickly shut it off and pulled the covers off of himself. He turned to see you in bed, still asleep and not having to wake up for another hour or so. He allowed himself to drink you in for only a minute, taking in your sweet face as you slept and your hair all over your pillow. You were a year older today and he was going to miss celebrating with you. 

He turned away forcing himself to start going over his talking points. What did he need to do to get ready? He needed to get his suit, but he was going to have to iron it, which was going to see him back in time. As he made his way to the closet he stopped seeing his, one and only suit already hanging on the door frame ready for him, wrinkle free and appropriate. 

His heart was swelling in his chest, you’d gone out of your way again to do this for him. He looked again at you in the bed before going to finish getting ready. 

-- 

Night fell and you stumbled into your home, your friends had taken you out on the town for your day and you were just a little buzzed. But not enough to see that your husband wasn't home. You stumbled over to your bedroom, leaving a trail of your items through the house. You’d had an absolutely great time and you were glad to have such great friends. You couldn't help but sneak and watch bits and pieces of Aizawa’s press conferences, but your girlfriends kept you pretty preoccupied. 

You couldn’t get your dress off though, and you remembered one of your friends had to help you into it in the first place. 

“Shoot.” You said twisting around trying to get it off. 

-- 

Aizawa entered the apartment, his coat slung over his forearm. He closed the door with his foot and his eyebrow raised as he saw the two heels, coat and underwear making a trail to your bedroom. He followed it and couldn't control the slightest smile as he saw you hoping up and down trying to get your dress off. 

You turned at the sound of his footsteps and your face split into a dazzling smile. 

“Shooutaa” You drawled a bit lifting your hands up. You were not drunk, you felt good though, really good. 

Then you pouted. “ I cant get this stupid dress off Shouta. It’s cursed.” 

Aizawa chuckled at this putting his coat down on the dresser and coming closer to you, he pulled you into a loose hug and reached behind you for the tricky zipper. 

He was close, very close and his hair was still pulled back, and he smelled good, and damn it that really got you going. 

Neither of you were very forward when it came to sex. You both quickly learned to tell which kiss was a -I love you kiss- rather than a -lets go to bed right now kiss-. You couldnt recall a time either of you had verbally communcicated before sex. It was always a look, a smile, a kiss. But you were feeling good, really good.

You grabbed onto the black tie tightened on his shirt and brought him closer to you, his composure broke for a bit in shock but then he quickly regained his Aizawa cool. 

“You know.. I really like your hair like this.” You said softly. You reached up with both hands and began to loosen his tie. You could feel him messing with the zipper which was down almost halfway, but it was stuck on something and without being able to see he couldn't get it off. 

“Mei.” Aizawa said softly, but it was a warning. A warning that any further, there wasn't any going back. You tossed the tie to the floor and let your flat hands travel down his body, all without breaking eye contact. You were firmly ignoring his warning.

“How was your birthday.” He asked, his voice sounding a little breathier than usual. 

“Good.” You said looking from his lips to his eyes. “ It's better now though.”  

You’d successfully unbuckled and unlooped his belt and it made a small clink when it hit the floor. 

Then the button to the dress pants came off as well. 

“ I can't get this dress off.” Aizawa said his voice is truly husky now. You could feel him,hard and pressing into your exposed thigh. 

“You gonna let that stop you?” You asked challenging, being a brat , but you couldn't help yourself, suddenly you were really worked up. He still hadnt made the move , and you brought your hands back up to his hair sliding it through his locs and you brought your lips together for a kiss. 

The hand in his hair, which you knew for certain, drove him crazy and the kiss was a dangerous combo. But you lived for danger, so you couldn't help the slight squeal of excitement when he moved, fast and decisive, grabbing you up by your butt. You moved reflexively wrapping your legs around his back, moaning as he returned your kiss. He sat down on the edge of the bed. 

And then he was hiking up your dress, and you were clawing at his pants, getting them down just enough. His grip on you tightened as he positioned you over him and slowly brought you down onto his cock. 

You broke the kiss to moan, your hands positioned on either side of his shoulders. Neither of you wasted time and again he was slamming up into you. His head buried in your neck and his hands painfully gripping your ass, slamming you down onto him in deep strokes. 

You didn't hold back on the moaning, because it felt so good. Too good. It was criminal. 

It was hardly ever that the two of you were this worked up. To worked up to even take off your clothes. 

Your left hand was clutching his back for balance and the other snaked into his hair, gripping it at its roots. His heated breaths were in your ear, and they were becoming uneven as he stroked you. The sounds of your ass slapping down filled the room with your moans, and neither of you were going to last long. You could feel his cock throbbing as he filled you up. 

“A- ah Shouta!” You cried out as he descended into short but strong strokes against your spot. 

Aizawa got a glimpse of the two of you in the body length mirror in front of him. His pants pooled to his ankles, shirt loosely buttoned. And you still in the silk dress, that was hanging loosely from your shoulders and exposing your bare breast, clinging to him tightly. He felt a little ashamed at how he loved to watch him filling you up ,and the way your face changed with every stroke. 

“Shouta - I’m gonna -” You could hardly get out, before you were cumming, your pussy throbbing in ecstasy. And Aizawa can't control himself anymore, releasing into you hot and fast, with a deep groan. 

You let him ride out his orgasm, kissing up and down his exposed neck and nibbling a bit at his ear. When you could feel his heart rate slowing you pulled back a little to see his face. You kissed him again, softly this time , sweetly. 

You noticed that he was still hard inside of you, and pulled away. 

“ How about you go get the scissors to cut me out of this dress, and I go get the hot water ready in the shower.” 

----

Another round and a shower later, you were both in bed. You were cuddled into his shoulder, your legs tangled with each other. He was tracing a finger down the small of your back, fighting a wave of exhaustion. 

“ I love you” He softly moving his hand from your back to your neck stroking your cheeks softly. 

You felt like you could have cried, maybe the alcohol was still coursing through your system making you emotional, you thought. 

Aizawa was a big believer that saying I love you, too much can make it meaningless. So he always showed you instead, how he loved you. So when he did say it to you it meant so much more. It was the best birthday gift he could have given you. 

“I love you too. Shouta.” You said before the two of you drifted off into sleep. 

[jackiejacks923]

Sun and Moon

Pairing: Seoham x reader

Pre-reading A/N: Seoham was asking to be written and so I gave in. There will be a post-reading A/N on this because I feel like there needs to be an explanation of certain aspects of this story. For now, I hope you enjoy and I’ll see you at the end <3

------------

You were so engrossed with working on the document on your screen that you practically had a heart attack when your chair tilted all the way back out of the blue. After you collected your soul back in your body, your eyes focused on the handsome upside down face in front of you.

“You’re too serious,” Seoham told you.

“You know I have deadlines to meet,” you reminded him as you righted yourself back up and went back to your task. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Seoham walked into your cubicle and leaned against your desk. “Just making sure your computer is working alright. You haven’t called in with a problem in a few days.”

You were cursed when it came to all things computer related at work. From locking yourself out to accidentally deleting the file you’ve been working on for a week to programs just not running correctly for you. You name it, you’ve called IT for it. That’s how you and Seoham became friends. He took it upon himself to be your go to IT person. While he did his magic, he’d talk to you about random things and you ended up bonding over your mutual nerdiness.

“That usually means everything’s going just fine,” you said as you continued to type your edits. You clicked the save button and the usual icon popped up spinning, indicating for you to wait. Seoham was talking about the latest anime he started binging as you waited...and waited...and waited. You eventually looked up at Seoham who smirked.

"Lucky I stayed for a few, huh?" he teased. You both switched positions as he sat down at your keyboard and started retrieval steps so that all your hard work wouldn’t be lost forever. “We’re still meeting up after work, right?” he asked you as he clicked through folders in search of your lost document.

“Of course,” you confirmed. It was the day for your walk around the nearby park as you both played Pokemon Go! on your phones. The part of your week that you always looked forward to. You got to destress with a great guy that you’ve been crushing on since the moment he opened up his mouth and asked “what’s your favorite pokemon”. Since that day many, many months ago, you both met up on this unofficial weekly date where you would continue to nerd out after work hours until the sun set.

“All done!” he announced. He got up from your chair and had you take a seat to get back to work.

“My hero!” you exclaimed which made him smile proudly and also made his ears turn pink.

“I’ll see you later,” he said and then patted your head, “Don’t need me again too soon.”

You hummed your response as you got back to focusing on finishing that wretched document.

* * *

“Finally!” you yelled out as you stretched your limbs prepping for the laps around the park.

“Another stressful week down,” Seoham said as he stood beside you.

“They’re lucky I love what I do,” you stated as you both started your walk down the familiar park path.

You both fell into a comfortable pace, checking your phones when you heard the alert of a nearby pokemon to catch or a pokemon stop to hit up for supplies. Seoham continued to go on about the new anime he watched, but this time you were able to focus on what he was saying and actually hold the conversation. You loved having a friend you can relate to like this. His looks were just a bonus to his personality and the company he provided you and the feeling that you can be your nerdy self with him. Occasionally, your hands would brush each other’s, but this was the norm on these walks. And as per the norm, you would always have an urge to take hold of it, but you were never one to make such a bold move. Little did you know, Seoham was just as shy...but he was going to change that today.

“Hey,” he said to you, “I was here a few days ago by myself and I found this one secret place in the park. Want to check it out?” You nodded in answer and followed him down an off trail path.

You weren't walking for long until Seoham turned off the dirt path and led the way in between two thick bushes. He pushed branches out of your way and as you finally reached the clearing, you were greeted by a secluded koi pond. In the middle was a small, beautiful Asian style gazebo. Seoham was making his way to the bridge that connected it to the land surrounding it. You followed his footsteps and when you entered the gazebo, your breath was taken by the view it had of the surrounding greenery as the sun began to set in the background.

"Wow!" you said in awe, "This is amazing!"

"I thought you might like it," Seoham commented, "It's nice and peaceful here." You nodded, stunned to silence. "Hey, do you have an extra Eevee to spare?"

You checked your phone to see what was in your collection. "You're in luck!" you exclaimed as you clicked on his profile to do a trade. You leaned up against the gazebo railing as you touched the necessary parts of your screen to complete the transfer. A few seconds later the pokemon he gave you came through your phone. “An Espeon?!” you exclaimed, “Are you serious?!”

He smiled as he walked over to stand beside you. “I really don’t need the Eevee, but trading is the only way to transfer pokemons between friends.” He leaned closely over your shoulder and peered at your phone. “Make it your buddy,” he suggested. You did so and he placed his phone next to yours. His screen revealed an Umbreon as his buddy.

“Aw! It’s a matching pair,” you pointed out.

“Y/N,” he whispered in your ear, “Will you be the Espeon to my Umbreon?”

Surprised at the question, you turned your head to face him. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You smiled at him and asked, “Do Eevees have eight evolutions?”

Seoham smiled at your answer. He closed the distance between you two and gave you a sweet kiss as he closed his pokeball over your heart.

(picture courtesy of Google search; credit goes to the artist that has their watermark on the corner)

Post-reading A/N: Did ya like it? 😁 - it’s OK if you didn’t...not everybody will.  But I’m going to provide a bit of an explanation here in case you’re not familiar with the Pokeverse. So in the Pokeverse, Umbreon and Espeon are like a yin and yang pair, a balance between light and dark. Umbreon is known as a moonlight pokemon (dark) and Espeon is a sun pokemon (light). This also pays a slight hommage to KNK’s “Sun, Moon, Star”...not to mention satisfies the Libra in me that thrives off of balance in all aspects of life. Oh! Also...in case you didn’t pick it up...Eevees do have eight evolutions (all pretty kick ass in their own right)...heheheh. OK...that’s the end of the inner workings of Jackie’s mind. Stay safe and stay healthy ‘til next time! 💕💕

[babblingblondegenius]

Happy Mancrush Monday

July 6th was International Kissing Day but we all know that every day should be Olicity Kissing Day!  :)  On Mancrush Monday, let’s appreciate all the many ways Oliver has kissed Felicity over the years and get his perspective on them  ;)  

The non-canon it’s a ruse to fool a Mirakuru-powered psycho but I’m only fooling myself because I’ve totes been in love with you for ages but I’m a broody pine tree with my head up my ass so I haven’t been able to tell you until just now kiss

The angsty af I can’t let you walk away without knowing the sweet taste of your lips and how your face feels in my hands even though I continue to be a broody pine tree with my head up my ass don’t ask me to say I don’t love you kiss

The bittersweet I’m going to duel an almost immortal assassin leader and even though we aren’t together because I’m a broody pine tree I just want to feel your skin under lips and breathe in the scent of the hair to sustain me on my journey and give me strength as I face my enemy because I’m completely in love with you and can’t even pretend to hide it anymore kiss

The very sexy OMG you love me too this would be the best day of my whole life if I wasn’t a self-sacrificing pine tree but I’ve dreamed of this moment for so long and I couldn’t let you go right now if my life depended on it kiss

The incredibly hawt I’ve only got one night with you before I give my soul (and this amazing body) to the LOA so I’m gonna make sure this is the best sex of your life kiss

The soft and sweet after-afterglow I love you even more and I didn’t think that was possible kiss

The heartbreaking I know I have to let you go in order to fulfill my obligation and Ra's prophecy except I don’t know how to let you go when every fiber of my being is crying out to you, for you, in a silent unspoken plea for all the things I will never get to have with you-peaceful days...passion-filled nights....marriage... golden-haired baby geniuses...a life and my only hope is now that I’ve been part of you and I’ve given you every part of me Oliver Queen will live on in you kiss

The blissfully domestic you can’t cook to save your life but you like me when I’m sweaty and I’m so damn happy that I can barely stop smiling long enough to kiss you kiss

The yin-yang I’m amazed we’ve made it this far but we’re gonna be fine because we found ourselves in each other kiss

The passionate I now understand why you find the salmon ladder so hot kiss

The adorable I’m such a smitten dork that I went out and bought a nerd emoji key chain for you, put the key to my apartment on it and even gift wrapped it because I want you in my life more, like all the time would be really great since you already have the key to my heart kiss or more succinctly put.....

The adoring my gorgeous future wifey loves touching and kissing my face and IDevenGAF that we’re in the middle of a crowded restaurant and she’s probably leaving red lipstick marks all over my face cause I want everyone to know we are back together and my heart, face, and everything else belongs to her kiss

The eager and enthusiastic we made it all the way through dinner without any interruptions and now it’s time for dessert kiss

This is the kiss right before Slade calls.  Not only did that guy fatally stab Moira, now he is trying to kill Oliver’s libido.  My AU head canon for this scene is when Felicity handed him handed him the phone and he heard it was Slade, he said new phone who dis and flung it across the room.  He then flung Felicity over his shoulder and carried her upstairs to the bedroom because that couch wasn’t big enough for what he had planned for dessert.

The cute and charming I’m so happy you’re here I’ve missed you so much and I want to come home to you every day for the rest of my life kiss

The epic full-suit ‘nothing matters except that I love you’ kiss

The ardent MasterChef of Chez Queen I just wanted a night to remind myself of what I’m fighting for and it’s definitely you baby kiss

The gentle reunited and it feels so good kiss

The I remember everything about you from the first moment we met including the color of the pen you were chewing but you actually thought I would forget our wedding anniversary and the exact words I said to you when we got married kiss

The Arrow writers ripped my Olicity-loving/they deserved a happy ending heart out and stomped on it  ‘we are buried in broken dreams, we are knee-deep without a plea, I don't want to know what it's like to live without you, don't want to know the other side of a world without you’ kiss

Oh, you didn’t think I was gonna end this on that depressing note, did you?  Nope, I’m not one of the Arrow writers lol.  In this Mancrush Monday AU, Aunt Nyssa, Aunt Thea and Uncle Roy are babysitting Mia while Oliver and Felicity finally get to go on their honeymoon.  This is the I’m the happiest man in the whole world kiss (and yes, that was the caption this adorable smitten sap used on Snapchat because our once broody pine tree chose something to live for and is living the life he (and the love of his life) deserve). <3

Bonus gif!  The fervent we are having a wonderful time in Bali and currently conceiving Lucas Smoak-Queen kiss ;)

Thank you to all of our amazing gifmakers! <3  Bolded lyrics on the 7x22 caption are from The Other Side by Ruelle.  

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Tryst 

Chapter 6- Roma( really more of a non canon outtake I couldnt’t help but write!)

Hi guys! Remember me! Remember them! Uh, they give me to much to work with!

There was something about Harry in Italy.

Helene had to confess, at least to herself, that he looked better here. She wondered if it was because their first tryst had been after the Bologna show. And their last one had been in Umbria. Maybe she wore colored glasses filtered through that special Italian light. The light that was concentrated on the steps of this museum in the eternal city. They'd barely kissed cheeks when she arrived, and she had been communicating with his assistant and Jeff, mostly.

They hadn't talked.

She told herself that was best because, well, boyfriend in the interim or no, she wasn't really over him. He was never really out of sight, she had memory cards full of him, plus the general obsession with him. So, Harry was never really out of mind.

But she had been effectively distracted before she got here. Hadn't even given herself a Harry pep talk. "He likes to fuck you, but doesn't want you for more. He's a good man, but your feelings for him are not the same as his for you," etc. Helene really hadn't thought she needed it.

Rene was home, had been in her bed until two days ago, satisfied all the itches Harry had mapped for her to show to a new man's fingertips.

Helene was sure she didn't need it. That she was Over it, and him, the elusive them. She wondered who Harry had been seeing, offhandedly, without an emotional attachment she reasoned. A man that attractive and skilled deserved a lovely boy or girl to keep him warm.

And that was the last thought she had had about it, she realized. As she cursed her heels and crouched down to shoot an up angle on the steps of Harry driving the crowd gathered for him on the steps wild. She imagined if anybody was looking they could see right up her little skirt. Thank God for opaque tights.

Now, well the all white was striking. And was he always this tall? He smelled different, she'd noticed immediately. Not like a gorgeous wood paneled office and faint cigar, but instead something undefinable and alluring.

Fuck, she was fucked. And suddenly thankful she and Rene had had a open discussion early on about the logistics of sex and two people whose career took them around the globe more often than not.

He'd brought it up, and she thought it was a great idea, though she didn't admit to herself until this moment, watching her boss in beautiful Italian sunlight, that it might have been so sweet to her ears because it would allow her to fuck Harry.

She really wanted to fuck Harry. He flashed his pastel nails at her in a wave and she captured it, in the viewfinder there were trails in the light. Magic.

Magic fingers.

There wasn't time to think much on that. The show was starting and Harry disappeared as he did at public events sometimes. So, she was free to watch the show. By phone light. Apparently, Alessandro was less captivated by light than dark.

The night progressed and she found herself with Harris in the show and later at the party. She was surprised he didn't know Harry was performing, she supposed that was great for him. He still got to be a fan. Helene had long since crossed a line there. She was so much less, his employee. Harry's thought out plans didn't catch her flat footed, because she was documenting them. And so much more, because she knew smell of his inner thigh and taste of his neck.

She really wanted to lick the strong veins in his neck watching him hit that high note with Stevie.

His own, real, high note was throatier. The one she could recall and still felt between her thighs. He'd been resting, his skin glowed and his voice shone.

"Fuck!" She muttered to herself. She was gonna have to decide whether to telegraph her need to him, or steer clear.

That idea went out the window, the left turn away, when Harry made a beeline for her not long into the after-after party at the hotel. Harry was officially off duty now, posted a picture with his new cast mates, including Harris, which explained the young person's excitement. Harry was immediately handed a drink by Jeffrey, in a fetching suit, and his head came up to where she was standing, stashing her camera.

His eye contact was compelling, so she returned it. So much for making herself scarce, if not unavailable. He was walking to her with his fresh drink, resplendent with Italian summer.

"Been a while, love! Look smashing! Like the Yin to my Yang!" He bussed her cheek, then the other. Full continental. And she swore he sniffed her hair. Fucker.

"Yes, you do stand out in all white. I almost feel...boring!" She felt like that sometimes, she was used to being the pretty one in her male/female relationships.

He looked at her sheer blouse. Scoffed, "Hardly!"

"Well, you're hard to one up, fashion wise. Though this look, definitely inspired by the Met gala." She teased gesturing to herself. He'd been nervous, she'd heard, though she had had another gig at the time.

"Oh, well, I'm sure the people would rather see you in a see through top than me." He shrugged modestly.

Helene tapped her temple and raised her brow.

"I'm inclined to disagree." She gave a pointed gaze at the sparrows and was immediately distracted. She wasn't sure what compelled her but, well, it was crooked. Without a thought, she centered the cross in Harry's chest hair.

And further damned, when she'd taken her hand away, she had caught his nipple. It hardened. She wondered if anything else did on him. She knew the effect on her.

He gave her that look, the one that always got her all wet, and her tights were suddenly uncomfortable, sodden.

And then, as always, he'd been spurred away. She's saved, and pressing her thighs together with new all white visions swirling through her head to put her to bed.

She caught up with some singer and Harris. It's a laugh. Something of a distraction. She'd been able to put away her libido, mostly, until would not doubt demand attention in her hotel room.

More distraction was the good wine seemingly self-refilling in her hand.

It was not long before she had to find the toilets.

She’d been washing her hands, when there was a knock. Bold, two rapid taps. Patience was her wish to whoever is out there, or maybe they'd had too much wine as well she thought in sympathy. Hopefully not too bad a stomach.

"Un instant, si vous plait." Came out before she can think in Italian.

"Helene." The voice was unmistakable.

She unlocked the door.

He slid into the low lighting. She wondered if Alessandro had that as a standing order. All dark all the time.

Harry was a bright white spot.

He locked the door, then. Helene watched him do it in the mirror. Immediately, with the sound of it sliding home, he was crowding into her non existent space. The ridge of the sink undoubtedly would bruise her hips. She may have minded, but He’s already caught the back of her blonde hair, turned her mouth to him.

It's less a kiss than a shared breath. He tasted sweet, from minty gum as always, and spicy from the tequila he'd been sipping. Redolent. His new scent, that already made its place in her memory, surrounds her.

His hand was also beneath her skirt, rubbing over the juncture of her thighs. She knew she was wet through. "Fuck, you're hot, wet." Harry breathed against her lips, and it's a kiss too. Their mouths continued to whisper over each other. He gripped her throat and look at her in the mirror, a white field with her tiny frame as a black dot.

"Yes?"

God, that he always asked, sooo hot.

"Yes," leaked out of her mouth.

She felt his finger on the stitching at the side of the white section in the middle of her tights, there at the juncture of her thighs. Where the fabric was weakest, where she is weakest. His painted nails opened a whole. She squirmed to get the finger near the money spot. Anything to get him there.

"Yes?"

He asked again and she wondered if he didn't hear her, or if her verbal agreement wasn't enthusiastic enough. Her bodily concurrence was running into his palm she was sure.

But saying "YES!" To him was so hot.

He agreed, if his "Fuck me!" was anything to go by.

And then the crotch of her tights were an afterthought and she could hear his zipper going down, and keened when his fingers left her.

The sound became a moan when he pushed her forward, arching her back and pressing her cheek to the mirror. Her heavy breath left a mark before retreating a bit.

The fog grew and didn't recede when his ample tip, her favorite inch of him, though the place between his sparrows was giving it serious competition, pressed into her.

"'Arry!" She could have written his name in the exhalation, it was so heavy.

"Helene!" He grit out as he glanced to the side of her cervix. God he was big, and that move alone, that she'd walked Rene through, was worth it.

The next one was definitely more for her than him. If he was looking to shoot his load, he'd maintain those deep, evocative strokes, but instead, he pulled her ass back a little, she grabbed the faucet to support herself now- the mirror wouldn't bear any weight at this angle. He used the distance between her hips and the sink edge to press her belly down, arch her ass up.

"Sweetest little ass. I dream about what you let me do to you last time we were in Italy!" He said between his teeth.

"Ahhh, me too!" Helene moaned when she realized the new angle was all about hitting her spot, that root part of her clit.

"Mon dieu, Harry!"

Her forehead touched the cold metal of the faucet. She couldn't support her neck while he tapped tapped tapped away, nudging her senseless, until her entire body tensed, and released, the flood of energy sizzling in her veins and out her mouth in curses.

"Yes!" he answered himself and switched to the longer strokes while she whined and pulsed out of rhythm around his cock. Aftershocks after he shattered her earth. One proved to be his undoing, and he blew along his own fault line, heaving to a heavy stop

His head, she could feel the sweat through the tight mesh between her shoulder blades, rested on her while they caught their breath and he wilted. She heard him tie off the condom. Laughed when he tossed it into the trash and seemed to not care it was on the top, so the next bathroom user would know somebody had fucked there.

From the look of her, they'd know who.

"Merde." She breathed after she'd straightened her hair. She loved her sex hair, though it was obvious, but when she smoothed her skirt, she saw the growing trails where her stocking were running. She pulled her skirt back up.

"What're you doing?" Harry asked after he'd tucked himself back in. Helene laughed. He hadn't even taken off his rose colored glasses.

"Taking off my tights, they're ruined, and, well, anybody will see the bullseye they are making and....guess?" She shrugged. She didn't really care, but hated to be so indiscreet, obvious.

"No, I can help!" He flashed his brow, and the switch back to boyishness after sex god was forever jarring. Lovely. He picked her up and sat her on the sink and produced the purse she hadn't seen him bring in. She supposed that was where the condom had come from.

"You're carrying nail polish?" She laughed.

"Yeah, when they chip I pick at them, unless I have clear coat." He smiled at her amusement. "Now, quiet, I have to concentrate!" He bent his head and she sympathized with his knees from the crouch he was in. He definitely couldn’t get his white knees on the bathroom filth.

Later, She snapped a phone pic of them as yin and yang. It was their thing, the pictures, and he'd rolled his eyes, but gave good face in the mirror behind her.

She catalogued her changes in her own hotel bathroom when she excused herself not long after, a quick escape to her lodging close by. The sex hair.

And all the tiny dots of clear polish, that she ran hands over like Braille. She almost threw them out, the tights. But they deserved a pictures, or five, to capture Harry.

The boy who'd fuck her over the sink in a public bathroom, then spent 20 minutes preserving her modesty by fixing her tights.

In the morning, she was sad to not see him in the Italian dawn, but was thankful for the Roman night.

The dark inside all of his light.

[mysmeloveandmore]

RFA Reacts to MC who doesn’t talk about her problems

-Yoosung-

- The two of you were fairly easygoing with everything in your lives.

- Spending nights playing LOLOL while eating some leftover dinner that he’d worked so hard to make.

- You always helped him with whatever he needed.

- However, when you had a problem, you preferred to deal with it on your own.

- That’s just how you were, how you’ve always been.

- It’s just never come up in conversation.

- So there was never any need to worry.

- You two didn’t really fight, so what did it matter?

- Then one day, you’re in the middle of something extremely important when he bursts through the door, raging about one of his professors.

- You’re quick to act, trying to calm him down, but literally nothing is helping this boy.

- I. Mean. Nothing.

- You were typically a very patient, easygoing person… But this? And the fact that he had kept trying to ask what was wrong to avoid the subject entirely?

- The two of you had been trying to hash this out for two hours without leverage, and you were at your limit.

- Finally, he snaps first.

- “MC, why aren’t you offering any real help this time? You’re so good at this, come on! I need help! And why won’t you talk to me?!”

- “You know what, Yoosung? I’ve been sitting here, busting my ass trying to help you, and all you do is sit there and try to come up with excuses of why nothing will work! So you know what? Figure it out your damn self!”

- (Oh. My. God.)

- His cutie has just snapped.

- You left him sitting there and walked out. You needed some air.

- He followed you.

- “MC!” He was running to catch up to you, but you kept going. You knew you needed to distance yourself before it became worse. “MC, wait! Please!”

- You didn’t wait. And he didn’t catch up.

- He was a wreck.

- Sobbing as he made the agonizing walk back to his place, his face in his hands. (He thought you left him.)

- He made it to the bedroom, somehow…

- Still sobbing, he looked around to find nothing but traces of you everywhere, which only broke his heart more.

- Wondering what he did wrong, he started to panic.

- Panicking and crying, he found himself pacing. He wanted to talk to you, to beg you to forgive him, but he didn’t know where you were. (You even left your phone behind)

- After a few hours, you returned.

- He’d stopped crying, but his face was red and swollen, with a numb, dazed look on his face.

- “Y-Yoosung?”

- Hearing your voice, desperation and hope roared in his violet eyes. He was quickly on his feet and running to you, falling to his knees and taking your hands in his shaking ones.

- “M-MC, I… I’m so sorry! P-please d-don’t leave me! I-I’ll do b-better, I-I p-promise!”

- He was crying all over again, but you calmly pulled at his hands to get him to his feet, giving him a reassuring smile.

- “Let’s sit down, okay? I think I need to explain.”

- He was terrified that you were validating a break-up, but he meekly nodded and followed you to the sofa, sitting at the edge of the cushion beside you.

- “Yoosung, listen. I… I love you, I want you to know that first. And I’m not leaving you, okay? So, just breathe for me, all right?”

- The breath he had been holding shook upon exhale, but he nodded and bit his lip to let you continue.

- “I never had any intention of leaving, but I had to cool off. I like to deal with my problems in my own way without having anyone else get involved. And having someone, anyone, try to get involved with my issues is just something I’ve never been able to deal with. Do… do you understand? Does that make sense to you?”

- He was silent, letting your words sink in for a few minutes before realization brightened his face.

- “So it’s like… it’s like when there’s an event on LOLOL that’s based on solo skills to get the legendary item?”

- You giggled. (Well, that’s one analogy)

- “Kind of, yes. So the next time I’m having a problem, please… Let me handle it.”

- He sighed, almost deflated but utterly relieved you weren’t breaking up with him.

- “Al- All right, MC. But the first sign I see that it’s becoming too much for you to bare…”

- “Then I’ll try to remember to come to you.”

- A smile, and he took you in his arms. “Thank you, cutie. That’s all I ask.”

-Zen-

- Ever the reliable one.

- Striving to be the perfect boyfriend.

- And in general, he was. Doting, loving, always taking care of you, always there when you need him.

- Even times when you didn’t.

- It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate his efforts.

- Quite the contrary. You loved him so much and always knew that no matter what, he’d never give up on you.

- And you loved that about him, too. The two of you could talk about anything, and it just felt so natural, as if you two had known each other all your lives.

- But when you needed to be alone, to sort out your own personal dilemmas, it almost drove him crazy.

- He wanted to help you, so you wouldn’t have to go through anything alone. (Sometimes, my sweet prince, it’s not that simple)

- And most of the time, it was easy to accept his help. You two were so at ease with one another, it was just one more natural thing between you.

- Except…

- The days you wanted to settle your issues alone, he was still there.

- Even though you knew it wasn’t a bad thing and you knew all he wanted to do was alleviate some of the weight on your shoulders, a certain switch flipped every time he tried to pry.

- Just a brief little tsk at first before you grit your teeth, willing the urge to tell him to back off to go away.

- But he kept coming.

- “Jagiya, come on, I can help! Really! Let me-“

- “Zen, knock it the fuck off already! Can’t you see that I’m handling it? Let me deal with my own problems, all right? If I want your help, I’ll fucking ask for it!”

- A flurry of emotions flew through his ruby eyes. Defensiveness, anger, pain, worry, but the biggest one?

- Pain. And it stayed there, even as the others dissipated.

- You stormed off, to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you as his mouth hung open slightly.

- He didn’t understand the outburst at first. You were the most laid-back person he had ever met. What did he do? Could he fix it? Should he approach you?

- His feet had him moving toward the door before he even gave it a conscious thought. Just as his hand was extended for the doorknob, he stopped, dropping his hand with a sigh and pushing his hair back.

- There was the hope that you just needed a moment, that you would explain later. He knew those moments. (Taking off after the Echo Girl scandal without so much as one word of when he’d return)

- Defeated, he went to the sofa, picking up a script for a new role to occupy his mind until you were ready to talk.

- It wasn’t working. His legs bounced, his hands clenched and opened as he kept rolling his head around to try and focus. Nothing worked.

- Him leaving you to yourself was driving him insane, going against every bit of judgement he had at the situation. He wanted to be the man who fixed your troubles, no matter how small you perceived them to be.

- You left the room a couple hours later to find him pacing, the strain on his face evident with his inner turmoil.

- He thought he’d done something wrong that he seriously needed to make up for.

- When he saw you, the pain was still there, but there was more concern and worry etched into his statuesque face.

- “Jagi, I…”

- “Zen, I’m sorry,” you started with a sigh. “I snapped at you when I shouldn’t have, but I need to talk to you.”

- He nodded and gestured to the sofa, but the tension was clearly knotting in his shoulders as the two of you sat down.

- “I love you, Zen. That will never change, but I’ve been so used to dealing with things on my own for so long. Every time someone swore to help me, they either lied or did it for their own selfish reasons. I’ve come to rely on myself.”

- He opened his mouth and you raised a hand for him to let you finish.

- “And now, it’s become habit. Something that has nothing against you whatsoever. Please, please bear with me when I get like this, okay? You’re there through everything, and I love it more than I can say. I’m just used to fighting my own battles.”

- A long, heavy exhale left him, but he nodded, his eyes hopeful. “I love you too, princess, and I’m sorry I’ve upset you. I just want to be your knight, but if this is what you want, I’ll respect your decision.”

- You pulled him into your arms, embracing him to you tightly. “You’re already my knight, you silly boy.” You left a sweet kiss on his jaw, turning his face that adorable shade of pink.

- “Jagi…”

- Oops. (Release. The. Beast!)

-Jaehee-

- To be honest, Mama Bear doesn’t really discuss her problems unless she feels they are extremely important to the situation at hand.

- But… her method is to use a simile, not to truly bring her scenarios to light.

- You understood her, though, and you two were happy.

- While she was take charge and no-nonsense, you complimented her by being the easy-going one.

- That wasn’t to say you were lazy. Quite the opposite.

- She was Yin and you were Yang, neither of you able to exist without the other because there was something the two of you possessed that existed in the other.

- She knew there were problems you had of your own, and she was okay with that.

- But she also wanted you know that you would never have to deal with them alone if you needed her.

- She wanted to help you the way you were there to help her.

- Even if she was more rational than emotional, she would offer any kind of comfort she could.

- There had been moments where she saw you dealing with some struggle, and she would ask you if you needed her for anything.

- “Thanks, Jaehee, but this is something I need to deal with on my own.”

- “I understand MC, but you know that-“

- “Yes, I know you’re always there. You’ve said this before! Now can we please drop it?!”

- She was mildly taken aback, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

- You were always the calm one, the one who soothed her frayed nerves.

- She wanted to be that way for you, but was unsure of how to approach the issue.

- Not knowing what else to do, she fixed you a cup of coffee and let you be.

- To say she wasn’t feeling some kind of hurt would be a lie. (But this is Jaehee Kang we’re talking about. Oozing with rationalism.)

- She simply assumed that whatever you were dealing with was something that required your attention and yours alone. Even if she wanted to help.

- She heard your sigh and peeked in to check on you. Your head had fallen on the back of the sofa, but you saw her in your peripheral and smiled.

- “I’m okay, sweetheart. I swear. Thank you for letting me have a moment, and I’m sorry for snapping.”

- She was beside you when you extended your hand to her, sitting beside you, inwardly relieved.

- “Will you be all right, MC?” She wondered softly as she took your hand, rubbing the back of it in smooth circles.

- You nod, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “I will be,” you reply. “And thanks for not pushing the issue.”

-Jumin-

- Oh, this man.

- This man is a pro when it comes to dealing with things on his own.

- His entire childhood? Dealing with his father’s frequent marriages and divorces. Even when speaking to his best friend about it, he would tell him not to worry about it.

- As an adult? He’s running an entire corporation (even though Jaehee handles the major time- consuming tasks and keeps him current on everything) because his father still insists on ‘finding love’.

- Does he seek a solution from others? No. Not really. He firmly believes that it can be managed without outside help.

- It was just who he was. Calculative, tactful, a strategist.

- And you come along, making him realize he needed you.

- You cleared away the confines of his mind and released his heart, making him see everything of the world in a whole new light.

- He would do literally anything to see you smile.

- And at the first sign of trouble, he wanted to be there.

- To fix everything the way you fixed him. (Even if he was still learning how to respond emotionally to others.)

- But… that was where you were like him.

- In every possible aspect, you and Jumin Han were complete opposites. You were easygoing, he was meticulous and detail-oriented. He noticed everything and stressed how it should be just so. (At least with most things. You, he loved you as you were)

- When you had a problem, you simply want to be left by yourself, because you know you can deal with it. Yeah, you might sigh and growl a bit, your face might scrunch in concentration, but you were handling it.

- But your husband thought you were having difficulties of some sort and wanted to help you. (I mean, you’re his entire world, right? Why wouldn’t he?)

- However, he didn’t know that when you have a problem, that you were like him in the sense that you would handle it on your own.

- He kept asking if there was something he could do, every time he saw your face contort, even going so far as to offering suggestions for whatever it could have been, every single time.

- “Jumin! Enough! I love you, but for once, please stop trying to get to the bottom of this! You can’t help with this one!”

- You lost your cool, and instead of looking at him, you took off to another room in the penthouse.

- He was frozen to the spot, both unsure what to say and what to do. You had never spoken to him like that before. Not once. Something had to seriously be wrong, and all sorts of questions riddled his brain.

- Was it him? Did he do something or say something wrong? What could he do to fix it? Something. Anything.

- He wanted nothing more than to follow you, but the look in your eyes before you’d left said that would have been a very bad idea.

- So calm, rational, collected Jumin Han was no more. Now he kept pushing his hair from his face, almost pacing the room before deciding to get some wine to alleviate the situation.

- Some time had passed before you came back to him to explain. You weren’t sure how long you’d stayed away to calm down, but Jumin had cleared his second bottle of wine and was halfway through his third when you returned. (The man can drink.)

- His jacket had been tossed aside, his tie loosened, first three buttons of his shirt undone and his hair was a disheveled mess when his eyes connected with yours. Even his cheeks were flushed.

- If he looked like that, he must have been drinking quickly.

- “Kitten.”

- “Jumin, sweetheart, you’re drunk.”

- You were trying to walk to where he sat in his lounge chair, only to have him stand and waver. (If Jumin fucking Han wavers after drinking, he’s wasted. Period.)

- “I’m not drunk.” (Liar.)

- Shaking your head, you lead him to the bedroom so you could try to explain. He was rational, so he might retain some of the information.

- However, his drunken self was heavier than you thought as he leaned on you. Nevermind the fact that he was just rambling about everything and nothing all at once, the most coherent thing being how much he absolutely adored you.

- Finally, after almost falling a few times, you two had made it and got him to bed.

- “Why won’t you talk to me, my love? Have I done something that offends you?”

- “No darling,” you sighed. “But you know how you prefer to deal with a lot of things by yourself? I’m like that too.”

- “Ah, I see,” his arm was over his eyes as he lay back, not even bothering to undress for bed. “But do you ever want help? Has there ever been a time where you wanted to ask?”

- “N-Not really. I’ve just always dealt with things on my own, for as long as I can remember actually. This has nothing to do with you, I promise.”

- He gave a noncommittal hum and you thought that was the end of it, undressing to get some much-needed rest yourself. The talk would wait until morning.

- That was until he pulled your half-naked form into bed with him, landing on the bed with a bounce.

- “Ju-Jumin!”

- His face was inches away from yours, the scent of Cabernet Sauvignon on his breath. Even though his face was still flushed, he managed to speak to you without slurring.

- “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, my love,” he said, the softness of his baritone voice rumbling in his chest. “But please remember I love you if things get to be more than you can bare.”

-Saeyoung/707/Luciel-

- If Jumin Han is a pro at dealing with things on his own, then Saeyoung lives up to his name- God7.

- No one knows more about inner problems than he does.

- Everything he does, whether it’s for V or the Agency, or even things from his past, his bunker couldn’t even fill all the problems that goes on in his mind.

- But you… You were the calm that broke the storm, the one who gave him reprieve from all the demons plaguing his mind.

- And you knew he loved you. That much was obvious.

- But there were times when you were glad the Agency was taking up his time. You had your own problems to deal with and didn’t want to get anyone involved, especially him.

- For the most part, it worked out in your favor.

- He would be so busy with some technical task that it was easy for you to sort out your problems at your own pace.

- But there were also times when he made the brief step away from his tasks. He’d notice (maybe not at first, but he notices) how your brow scrunched, or the way your eyes narrowed when dealing with something.

- You’d also rub your eyes, insisting you were fine if he ever asked.

- But there had come a day when he completely pushed his work aside to be with you. Those days were rare, but certainly appreciated. Just not this one.

- To this day, you don’t even remember the problem itself, all you remember is the way he kept playing with you, trying to get you to talk about it.

- Playing was his version of prying, and he was persistent.

- This is 707 we’re talking about, after all.

- But if the obvious ‘Not now, Saeyoung,’ or ‘let it go’ weren’t getting through, your blatant outburst got the point across.

- “Damn it, Saeyoung! I said knock it off! I’m handling it!”

- This boy was phased for maybe a few minutes.

- He remembered the way he mistreated you in the beginning (and is still beating himself up for, by the way… inner turmoils, like I said.)

- So, he definitely got the message.

- Without saying a word, he kissed your temple and brought you a few bags of Honey Buddha Chips with a few cans of Dr. Pepper.

- “Whatever it is,” he said as he rubbed your arm gently. “You don’t have to tell me. I get it, but no secrets, okay? I deal enough with the Agency’s and V’s and I don’t want any from you.”

- You nod. “I know, babe. And it’s nothing to be worried about, just personal dilemmas I need to work out on my own, okay?”

- Even if he didn’t like your response too much, he understood, better than anybody.

- But if it even looked like you were remotely close to breaking down, he would step in.

- He was God7, Defender of Justice and Peace, and no one or nothing would make his angel weep. Not while he drew breath.

- After some time, you came back to find him working on whatever the current assigned task was and started to slowly rub the tension from his shoulders, leaving a kiss on his cheek.

- “Thanks, babe. I love you.”

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 7 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: I’m sorry we have to go through all this stress, babes, but it’s imperative that Duncan and Kenzie face the formidable forces of their badass mothers before they can deal with the incoming stress of the paps and the press; because that shit is coming. I both enjoyed and struggled writing Annette in this chapter; I really wanted to get Diane Lane’s performance down in this, and I do think I ultimately succeeded, but it wasn’t easy. Ultimately, Annette Shepherd loves her son, and that’s an unshakable truth. I keep thinking of Samuel as Duncan’s Jiminy Cricket, always saying something profound, Duncan’s conscience sitting on his shoulder. The smut is returning in the next chapter. They can’t stay away from each other for long and I don’t want them to and you, dear reader, probably don’t want them to, either. Here’s IN A SENTIMENTAL MOOD, which is the mood around this part too, for what it’s worth. Please reblog and like and spread around the masterpost, which won’t show up under the godforsaken #millory tag for some reason, thank you!

Duncan pressed a hand to his chin in his familiar tick, finger stressing against his bottom lip, his eyes gazing downward, not really seeing anything around him the backseat of the BMW; what he saw was Kenzie, the golden fall of her hair in the morning sun (god, I love her, an angel, he’d thought, his mind still soft in sleep), the way she’d turned over her shoulder to look at him, her round, bare ass making his morning wood even harder, the way he’d eased into wakefulness, drunk with the kind of restful, all-consuming sleep he hadn’t had in years, drunk on being pressed against her, the way she’d bitten into his finger, thrilling him, the soft feeling of the skin between her shoulders under his mouth. Her smell had filled his nose as soon as he breathed in, eyes opening to her; he felt sure he’d be content to wake every day to the scent of her, filling him, enveloping him. He was already dreading the coldness, the emptiness of his bed tonight. It made him absolutely ache. A blessing to be near her, a curse to be away from her. I guess this is what it’s like, and he shivered. To be in love.

Samuel eyed him through the rearview. “Mr. Shepherd, she is an angel. And absolute angel. You best not let go of her. I can see how special she is. I saw it right away. Like a pearl in the flotsam of the sea.”

Duncan looked up at him, grinning. “Samuel, that was lovely. And I know. And I won’t. I asked her to be my girlfriend last night, and she said yes.”

Samuel flashed his white smile, his dark brown eyes taking on the glow that Duncan knew so well from when he was a child and Samuel was one of his closest friends and dearest comforts, especially when his mother was in a bad mood. “That makes you a very fortunate man, indeed.”

“It does. I am not going to mess this up. I can’t.”

“But she is Madeline Stone’s daughter,” Samuel said, like the voice of Duncan’s conscience, probing into his private thoughts. “Whatever shall we do about that?”

“Fuck if I know, Samuel. But I’m going to tell Mom tonight. I have to try to make her understand.”

Samuel blew air in a harsh stream from his nose. “Whew, Mr. Shepherd. That is not going to be easy.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I wish you the best of luck. She is a jewel. I hope to see her often with you in the future.”

“Thank you, Samuel. Thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me.”

Samuel looked at him, eyes glancing up from the road, going back to it, looking back at him again. He seemed to be thinking about something for awhile, something he didn’t say; then, he spoke.

“I do believe she is making you a better man already, Mr. Shepherd. Fortune is indeed smiling on you.” And Duncan was struck by the familiar words, so similar to the ones he’d thought to himself, spoke aloud to Kenzie in the privacy of his room with her little hand in his, their eyes gazing into each other. Deja vu washed over him in a wave again (how often will that happen now, he thought, eyes staring out the window at the city lights again, and they reflected the blue in them, making them gold, as if he were Midas, turning the world to riches, how often will I feel like time is crashing into me now, insisting I’ve known her for a thousand years), and he felt overwhelmed with the embrace of all that had happened over the past few days, overwhelmed with the hand that felt like destiny that had pushed him onto the balcony and into her orbit, as if she were a planet and he was the moon, attracted to her inexorably, brought to her by the invisible, feminine hands of the Fates: Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos, he thought, spinning, weaving, cutting, if you are watching us, you Wise Women, All-Knowing, please bless us, have pity on us, mortals in love, abject to the will of the Gods. For I love her and my Fate is now sealed.

He couldn’t and wouldn’t let anything come between him and Kenzie; not even his mother.

------

Duncan stumbled through his Gardner Analytics press that day, his mind elsewhere entirely. Melody had given him an exasperated, confused, incredulous look, a what the fuck is your problem today look, after the third time he messed up his taped interview with C-SPAN at Shepherd Hall.

“Are you okay?” She asked, siding up to him as the reporter and cameraman walked away, a mixture of annoyance and concern on her face, pointing at them with her thumb. “What the fuck was that?”

Duncan pressed his hand against his chin, shaking his head; “I’m fine, just feeling disoriented today, I had a lot going on this weekend.”

Melody’s raised her eyebrows, her expression falling further. “And what exactly did you do this weekend…?”

“A lot.” He walked away from her. No doubt everyone will know soon enough, he thought as he heard her scoff behind him. But fuck, telling my mother is enough for today.

An hour later, he texted Kenzie while he was in his meeting (I’m aching for you, angel) until she stopped replying, obviously done with her lunch, and he scrolled back, lost in her messages, discontent with the physical distance between them. Mackenzie Louise Stone. He felt like he was in high school, looking down at the corner of his napkin where he drew the loops of her name during the meeting for the Foundation’s upcoming charity event; though it was less a charity event than a Gala, at $3,000 a plate and only accessible with an exclusive invitation; only for the wealthiest of DC society. His mother invited practically every A-list celebrity in New York and the surrounding proximate cities to the event for the past two years alongside the expected politicians, and it was becoming the new Met Gala in its own right; the dress code was wildly strict and staunch, themed, and well-documented by DC press (and, increasingly, by press on the East Coast in general). Duncan only half-listened to the list of preparatory arrangements, pondering her face, the shape of her mouth, her wide, bright eyes, her hair falling like ocean waves made of gold and sand, the plunge between her breasts, the sweetness between her legs, her loveliness, her sincerity, tears glimmering in the corners of her eyes, the way she had said I want you to come, baby, and how he had wanted her to grasp his neck and force him to come, remembered how she’d told him to surrounded by roses and he had, wildly, into her, hoping it would never end because it was in her embrace, ecstatic to obey her, but then he thought of how he’d wildly grasped her in his shower, his hands on her neck and his body full of pent desire and she’d welcomed him, her eyes dark, full of lust, begging for his touch, and he wondered at what secrets they’d unlock in each other in the days to come and was thrilled at the prospect, at the fantasy of her reality; she seemed to have unlocked a Pandora’s box of desire in the pit of his body and he wanted her to do with him whatever she wanted, wanted to give her anything she asked for, imagined her little clothes hanging in his closet, her pointed boots and strappy heeled sandals and her little intricate gold jewelry and her crystals and her scent lingering there among his black shirts, her gold settling into his clothing, into his life; he was far, far away in thoughts of her and her wet sex pressed against his lips, her cries of rapture, when Seth cleared his throat and said again:

“Duncan. What do you think?”

“Hmmm?” Duncan looked up, his fingers pressed to the side of his jaw, turning his eyes up from where he’d been drawing spirals languidly around Kenzie’s name on the napkin under his tonic water, where before they’d been turned down to the texts they’d exchanged half an hour ago, making him hard and restless and drifting in his longing for her and her alone.

“Something about a silver lining. The theme. For the Gala.”

“Oh.” He sat up a little, blinking.

“Angels and Demons?” Seth said, turning back to the shareholders and advisors around the table. “Diamond in the rough? Yin and yang?”

“An ember of fire in a void.”

The people around the table turned towards Duncan’s statement. He put the pen that was in his hand down, and trailed a finger along the surface of his phone in his hand under the table; all along his thoughts, Mackenzie danced and flitted away from him, gazed up at him through a field of flowers wherein she lay, laughed at him, against him, in dripping candlelight, pulled him into dappled sunlight, kissed him beneath blooming trees and in his dark bed and in the dark light of evening, glowing. Held him in the darkness. Held him in moonlight, her hands in his hair, his lips on her neck, their bodies close beyond measure.

“Gold in the darkness.” The audacity of hope, he thought. Her.

“Gold in the darkness, that’s great, Duncan, perfect.” Seth glanced at him, nodding, writing furiously on the memo pad in front of him. “That’s it.”

It’s her, Duncan thought again, blue-gray eyes flickering from Seth to the others and back down to his phone, where he knew her messages were enshrined like words scratched into a digital temple, thinking of Kenzie’s little black velvet dress, her quartz necklace in the moonlight, in the light of his bedside lamp as he pulled her into his lap in the throes of the first time they fucked and the softness of her on top of him in the bathtub with roses kissing her skin, her face shrouded in candlelight and his sight going hazy with her beauty and she was exquisite and soft as a dream and gold and the memories were like amber in him already, going solid, hard, seared onto the surface of his heart, fossils of time, a fossil of her pressed into him, no matter what happened now, he’d never forget it, gold on his black clothes, gold dust ground into his skin, the sheen of her aura, her soul, as if he’d eaten a piece of her and now the glow emanated from his body, invisible but to those who had a blacklight from the eternities, able to see the essence of a person, able to see how he was glowing from within because she loved him and he loved her and that, he thought, was the only thing, The only thing. Everything. Kenzie.

-----

Back in the warm, familiar backseat of the BMW, Duncan gazed out the darkening window at the glittering expanse of the District of Columbia, unable to divorce that image of Kenzie from his mind, the slight outline of her that he’d first glimpsed against the roses along the balcony, the lights glittering behind her, her sad face staring out into the open air, the hand of fate pressing into his chest. He wondered; what can I do to make her happy? The thought shook itself into the outline of his ribs, into the space of his eardrums, into the ventricles and veins of his blood.  What can I do for her? I’d do anything for her. I’d die for her. His heart pounded in his ears; he felt as if he could feel every drop of blood coursing through his body. How can I make Mom understand how I feel about this woman? We’ve only known each other for three days but I feel as though I’ve been searching for her every day of my life until now. That this is, at last, the realization of hole in my heart that has finally been filled, like the missing mechanism of an intricate clockwork. I didn’t even know it was missing, but now I don’t know how I lived without it. I don’t know how I lived without her. The thought of living without her now fills me with so much horror, I can’t stand it. Is this what the great poets wrote about? Love, undying, all-consuming, and like the soft hand of a little death?

“Samuel, have you ever been in love?” he asked, looking up into the rearview, running a thumb absently over the surface of his phone, clutched in his hand, as if he could feel her through it. He imagined her name there, tracing its imaginary outline. He thought of her hair again, her eyes, her laughing against him after they came together, thought of her tears.

“Oh yes, Mr. Shepherd.” Samuel said nothing after that, and the silence leaned into Duncan, like the weight of a heavy hand.

“What happened?”

“She married someone else, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Oh. Samuel, I’m sorry.”

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Shepherd. It was...a very long time ago. Not everything in life happens how you want it to. To be loved, even for a little while, is a great gift. To love, in its way, an even greater gift. However long you are given these gifts, you cherish them. That’s the secret to life. I’ve thought so for quite awhile.”

“I love her, Samuel. I love her and I want to make her happy. I want to do whatever it takes to be with her.”

“Make sure she knows, Mr. Shepherd.”

They both lapsed into silence, soft strains of Ella Fitzgerald (Samuel’s favorite) floating toward Duncan from the front of the car: there’s a somebody I’m longing to see / I hope that he turns out to be...someone who’ll watch over me…

Mom, I’m on my way to you, he typed into his phone. I have something important to talk to you about that means the world to me. I love you and hope you’ll understand. See you soon.

-------

Samuel pulled around the wraparound drive of the Shepherd mansion, its Colonial shutter-style windows lit with the electric candles that went on automatically around sunset (the sun had just peeked below the horizon a moment before, the last indigo fragments hovering at the skyline, small scudding clouds still visible over the hazy city starlight), between their crimson velvet curtains. The lights were on downstairs, throwing glowing light out onto the blacktop; Fine, Duncan, I’ll see you soon, Annette had replied in her text to him, and she hadn’t said anything else. Duncan felt on edge now, conscious that the moment he so dreaded was closing in on him, clenching its hands to trap him. He looked down at his phone again as Samuel idled in front of his mother’s house, and noticed a text from Kenzie.

There was a link to a gossip website (buzzpopfeed.com) with an accompanying headline attached: SHEPHERD UNLIMITED HEIR DUNCAN SHEPHERD SPOTTED AT--and then the link cut off. Under it, Kenzie had typed: Just told my mom and she isn’t taking it very well so far. I’m going to try to talk to her somemore over dinner. In the meantime, my friend sent me this. I thought you should know.

Duncan clicked the link, raising his hand to his jaw. He scrolled through the pictures (she’s so lovely, he thought, gazing at her shy expression, their hands clasped together, the fall of her hair over her shoulder, my Kenzie) until he reached the one at the bottom. Oh, no, he thought, staring at the aching kiss he was pressing into Kenzie’s face, the expression painted into her sweet features, the way their bodies pressed together. There’s no room for ambiguity with this one. He was sitting in his mother’s driveway, about to steel his nerves to tell her he wanted to date Mackenzie Stone because he was in love with her, and now this. Now he had no choice, now, it was out, no matter what he decided to do next. He wondered with a cold chill if his mother had seen the photos yet. He winced.

“Bad news, Samuel,” he said, lowering his phone. “Some pictures were taken when Mackenzie and I were at the bistro last night. Now they’re online.”

“Mr. Shepherd...it may be for the best.”

“I know you’re right. But fuck.”

“Be brave, Mr. Shepherd. That’s what she deserves. Your courage. And you know as well as I do: this is for her. She will need all your strength in the days to come. She is not from your world and she will need your help to navigate it.”

Duncan gazed at him for a moment, quietly; then, some strange sixth sense touched him, and he looked up through the window of the car and noticed, with a jolt of shock, that his mother had been standing at the balcony on the second floor that overarched the pillared front doorway, staring at him, or at least at the BMW (the windows were tinted) with a curious expression for at least a minute or more; her body had an observant sort of stiff pose, her arms crossed, her face gazing down, her brow furrowed, her lips closed. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a stillness about her that unnerved him deeply. It communicated one thing in particular to him: it was time to get out of the fucking car, Duncan.

He pulled the door open, stepping out, staring up at her.

“Hi, mom,” he called up, raising his voice enough to carry it over the steps and pillars to where she stood, staring at him, her eyes dark.

Annette said nothing. She stared at him a moment longer (his blood coursed suddenly to an icy cold stream), then she stepped away, through the second-floor deck’s glass French doors.

“Oh, fuck,” Duncan murmured. He pressed a hand through the side of his hair, looking down at his phone for a moment. He contemplated sending Kenzie a quick reply (goodbye my darling I am about to be fucking murdered by Annette Shepherd), but decided against it, slipping his phone into the pocket of his tailored leather jacket, idly yanking at the sleeves of the long-sleeved shirt he wore underneath it, taking a deep breath of the early-evening air into his lungs, blowing it out, and going up the three long white steps, into his mother’s house.

Inside it was glowing and gold, the opulent fixtures and furniture spotlessly clean as they always were, the gold-white banisters of the staircase shining in the dim glow of the electric chandeliers that extended on either side of it. He looked up the stairs and watched his mother descend; tonight, Annette Shepherd wore a black wrap-top with tailored black suit pants and black flats, the shoes she only wore at home when she was alone. Her hair was down around her shoulders in soft styled waves; her hair always seemed perfect to him, not a strand out of place, not a tangle, smooth and serene, the way her slender face often appeared even when there was a boiling river of hellfire rolling under her expression. She had no jewelry on but for the small round diamond earrings she often wore at her ears; he almost never saw her wear necklaces, as though her neck were perfect enough on its own without adornments. Her dark eyes continued to look at him, silent.

She reached the bottom of the steps, stopping before she descended entirely, so she hovered above him, just enough to look down into his face. It was a familiar power move from his mother; he was taller than she was, so she used those steps strategically, as she did in all things (how could she use it, them, anything to her advantage), to give herself leverage. She held her large iPhone in one hand; she brought it up, scrolling down for a moment, and held the screen up to him. It was the photo of him and Kenzie embracing, his lips pressed ardently against her; the picture he’d just seen for the first time in the car a moment before, the photo he knew he wouldn’t be able to bullshit his way out of to Annette Shepherd.

“Who is she.”

“Mom. Please don’t--”

“Do not fucking stall with me, Duncan. Who. Is. She.”

He regarded her for a moment, forcing himself to stare into his mother’s dark eyes; he could see the glimmer of anger there now, one she was good at hiding from years of political practice, but not forever, not from him. There was a moment of struggle that passed between them; a sort of clash of silent wills, Annette determined to have her son tell her the entire truth with not even a hint of falsehood, Duncan determined to tell her only what was absolutely necessary for fear of her wrath and shielding Kenzie from it, as well. Annette won the battle for the moment, as Duncan felt the wave of resignation wash over him. There was nothing for it. Time to rip off the bindings and air out the truth.

“Her name is Mackenzie.”

Annette rolled her eyes at that, scoffing, her composure finally fracturing. “What’s her fucking name, Duncan, her full fucking name. Who the fuck is she? Is this what you wanted to tell me about?”

She spat the word this out, her anger palpable in the texture of it, her annoyance bubbling over and clashing against him. This. She meant Mackenzie. It sent a twinge of anger through his skull, a scattering of red-hot reaction at the back of his eyes. Fuck it, he thought. I don’t care.

“Mackenzie Stone.”

He watched his mother’s eyes go wide and dumbfounded for a moment, the anger in her expression muddling to one of shock.

“Stone.”

“Yes.”

“No. No way. No goddamn fucking way, Duncan. No FUCKING way.”

“Mom. Please.”

“What could you be thinking? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She pointed a finger at him, the way she used to when he had broken something priceless or made a mess in an inconvenient place.

“She’s Madeline Stone’s daughter, and I’m in love with her.”

The flabbergasted expression fell over Annette’s sharply beautiful features again, and she reached out, it seemed, involuntarily, to clutch the banister, like she would fall otherwise. Her face drained of color (oh god, just how I imagined, he thought), cheeks seeping into whiteness.

“I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow it? What am I, a teenager?”

She stormed down the remaining steps, pushing past him roughly, waving a hand dismissively at him as she turned her back towards the dining room.

“This is ridiculous, I refuse to listen to this. Forget her. I’ll make it disappear. Just stop, right now.”

“Mom. No.” He forced his voice to remain even.

She stopped abruptly, turned, eyes blazing.

“No?”

“Mom, listen to me,” he said, and he was devastated to find that he could hear tears at the edge of his voice this time, could feel emotion bubbling under his throat, at the back of his eyes. He stepped to her, reaching for her hand, grasping it (it was cold and she tried to pull it away), gaining traction, tightening there, insistently. “Please, listen to me. It’s me, Duncan. I’m telling you something important. I love her, okay? I love her.”

Her eyes, dark and clouded with her blind anger, blinked at him, her lips pressing together, her body rigid.

“I love her. I want to be with her. I want your blessing, but I’m going to be with her with or without it. I love you and I wanted to tell you because I want to be honest with you. Please don’t make me regret that. Mom. Please. Can we sit down? Can we--please (and his voice cracked, he couldn’t stop it)--can we talk about this?”

He felt her trying to pull out of his grasp again, her expression still threaded with deep anger, but she said nothing, only stared at him. He saw her eyes flicker, change, as a tear, to his dismay, fell from his eye, coursing down his cheek.

“Duncan.”

“Mom. Please.”

Annette seemed utterly confused then, her perplexity falling over her cheeks and mouth, making them fall downwards; her eyes looked away from him, across the hall, at nothing.

“Madeline Stone’s fucking daughter, Duncan.”

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear this. I know you hate her and she humiliated you. But this isn’t about you. It’s about me. I’m asking you to please--please--give us your blessing. If you’ve ever loved me at all, you’ll do this for me.”

She looked at him again, annoyance in her face once more until she glanced at the wetness on his cheek; remembered the tear that had fallen there a moment ago, and her mouth opened a little, her expression falling again, disbelieving. Duncan knew that his mother wasn’t used to seeing him cry; he almost never did, even when he was a child, holding in his fears and his sadness until he felt ready to explode, never feeling as though he was safe enough to let his emotions go, let his despair out. But Kenzie had kindled in him an openness, an abandon; a desire to show his emotions, to hell with what the world pinned on him. She loved him. That was more than enough.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I was coming to tell you and those photos beat me to it. But I’m telling you now because I want you to know. You can’t pretend like I didn’t tell you, because I did. I just did. I love her. Please accept her.”

“You love her.” Annette repeated his words, her tone incredulous. “You fucking love her. Jesus. Youth. Of all the women on the planet, Duncan. Madeline Stone’s daughter?”

He let go of his mother’s hand, taking a step back, brushing his fingers under his nose, the back of his knuckles against the wetness on his cheek, and turned away from her in frustration.

“It doesn’t matter whose daughter she is, Mom.”

“Oh, you think it doesn’t?” she snapped at him, walking past him, back towards the dining room. He followed her, ears ringing with the anger and sadness that had started to hum in his mind, bringing his hands together, pressing his thumb into the palm of his left hand, trying to quell it.

“When you love someone, it shouldn’t.”

“This could fucking destroy your political career. This could cause serious problems with the bill, with Shepherd Unlimited, with all the work we’ve done.”

Duncan let out an exasperated groan. “Jesus fucking Christ, Mom, how is will this destroy anything but one of your endless grudges? Your stubborn insistence on hating people who, in this case, you’ve never met...and who mean everything to me?” The dining table was set with an impressive leg of lamb with several side-dishes surrounding it; Annette had employed a personal chef, Arturo (3 Michelin stars) for as long as Duncan could remember, his meals throughout Duncan’s childhood and adolescence prepared meticulously; he remembered his school lunches looked markedly different from even his other wealthy classmates in private school growing up, featuring pan-seared greens and cuts of Kobe beef and creme brulee (Annette had insisted on Arturo making his lunches, he was never allowed to have the school lunches). Annette stopped in her tracks, mouth agape at him again. “Means everything to you? And what do I mean to you, Duncan?”

“Mom. Why do you think I’m here?”

She turned away again, storming to her seat, slapping her phone down onto the Waterford tablecloth, grabbing at the bottle of Chateau Lafite (the corkscrew still hovering around the lip, but mostly pulled up by the house butler--Ingrid, who was Scandinavian and tight-lipped and who Duncan felt sure would defend Annette with her life if the need ever arose, and who had also been with the Shepherds for three decades--though at the moment, she had wisely vacated the room, no doubt hearing the raised nature of their conversation) that rested between the two place-settings at the south end of the room, yanking the rest of the cork out, and pouring the expensive wine unceremoniously into the crystal wine glass in front of her, glaring at it as though it was the source of her anger. She set the bottle down, pushing it away from her; grasped the crystal and raised it to her mouth, draining it all in one long draught.

“Sit the fuck down, Duncan.”

He stalked over to the seat beside her (hers at the head of the table, as usual), yanked out the heavy oakwood dining chair, and sat, his hands coming together in front of him, elbows on his thighs, sitting back, glaring at her, his eyes full of gathering stormclouds. It was time use the leverage at his disposal.

“I’m your son, Annette.”

“I’m fucking aware of that. It’s the source of my ire.”

“This is what I want. This is my happiness at stake.”

Annette paused, lifting her head, setting her chin at an angle, breathing in and out great bursts, and then she let out a sigh (resignation?) that made Duncan’s nerves fizzle.

“If you do anything--I mean fucking anything--to compromise the bill or the company, I will personally push her off a fucking balcony.”

He bit his lip, anger seething through the space between his brow. Annette talking about hurting Kenzie, even in jest, made him feel absolutely mad, unhinged with resentment towards her. She didn’t know. She didn’t know how beautiful Kenzie was, how luminous and lovely, how kind and the way gold shone out of her, the light, the goodness. She didn’t know Kenzie, and she didn’t know what she was fucking saying. He was silent and still, the stormclouds still seething behind his eyes, gazing at her, hands still clasped on his lap. I won’t let you do that, he thought. I will never let you lay a finger on her golden head.

“Did you fucking hear me, Duncan.” She poured more of the Lafite into her crystal glass, glancing down at her phone (a text flashed up, the iPhone vibrating against the table), glancing at him.

“Yes, Mom. I heard you.”

“Not a thing. Not a fucking thing to compromise the institutions I have built the last twenty years. Or I will fucking get rid of her myself.”

You could try, he thought. They stared at each other for a moment again; that impassable tension floating between them once more, both struggling for the upper hand. As long as I’m alive, you won’t touch her.

“Tell me you understand what I just said.”

“I understand.”

“Fine.” Annette reached across the table curtly, grabbing the silver tongs that rested in a dish of pan-seared asparagus with lemon and ground pepper, throwing several stalks unceremoniously onto the Hermes porcelain plate in front of her. “I want to meet her. This week. No excuses. Friday, after the Foundation press conference for the Dance Center. Plume, the usual table. 6 PM sharp. She’ll be coming to the Gala with you, I’d imagine.”

He hadn’t even thought of the Gala beyond the meeting today; his thoughts had been far too wrapped up Kenzie to even bother to consider it. “Yes,“ he said, fighting to keep his tone simplistic.

“She’s telling Madeline, I presume.”

“Yes.”

“Good. None of this can go forward otherwise. Now that those photos are live, we have to work hard to control the story surrounding them.”

“I’m not going to lie to anyone about her, Mom.” Duncan clenched his teeth.

“Control, I said. Containment. We can turn this into an advantage, but we have to harness the narrative from the outset.”

“There is no narrative. I love her and I want us to be together.”

“God, stop fucking saying that, Duncan. I fucking heard you the first fifty times.”

He leaned back in the chair, letting a colossal breath of frustration out of his mouth and nose. His mother could be a cruel, heartless person sometimes. A cold, ruthless, and implacable psyche, unfeeling and immovable. He loved his mother, but he hated her propensity for spite. He hated the way she was ignoring his sincerity; as if it meant nothing to her.

“I’ll call Madeline. I’ll do this for you, Duncan.” Annette took another ungraceful gulp from her wine glass, no doubt aware there were no prying eyes to critique her at the moment beyond her willful son. “But you keep this under control. You keep her under control.”

As if I could ever do that, he thought. Kenzie’s spirit is brighter than anyone I’ve ever seen. I could never control her. I can only hope to deserve to be near her. But Annette did not understand, that was clear. Whether she ever would remained unclear. But at least she had agreed, in her way, for now.

He pulled the Lafite over to his own crystal, pouring himself a generous glass.

“You’ll like her.”

Annette smiled, but it was a mirthless smile. “That was her smell on you the other day, wasn’t it.”

His eyes flickered. He hesitated.

“Don’t ever fucking lie to me again. Or I will make you regret it, my only son.”

Duncan gulped the wine, not moving his eyes from his mother’s face. Annette stared back, and her eyes were like dark orbs of obsidian, spheres of void, blackest night. He did not doubt that she meant what she said this time, and he nodded, swallowing the wine. “I’m sorry,” he said.

She used the tongs to place several spears of the asparagus on the plate in front of him, the way she often had doled his food when he was a child. He picked up his fork, his heart slowing finally, and stabbed it into one of the spears, bringing it to his mouth, her dark eyes watching him for another moment, her expression indecipherable. Then, she picked up her phone to stare at the text she’d received, and he glanced down into his pocket, noticing his phone lighting up with a text message of his own. Kenzie.

Mom isn’t happy, but I think I made her understand, at least a little. At least for now. She wants to meet you soon; I thought maybe on Friday? Duncan pressed his lips together in frustration. He couldn’t imagine it would be a good idea for Annette and Madeline to have dinner together so soon after his and Kenzie’s admissions. He couldn’t imagine how he’d orchestrate a scene that included his mother, Madeline Stone and Mackenzie, at least, not yet. The thought made him shudder with its likelihood of disaster. He looked up from his phone, noticing his mother’s eyes on him again.

“Is that her?” She asked curtly.

“Yes.”

“Eat dinner with your mother. She can wait.”

Duncan looked at Annette, stormclouds rolling in behind his eyes again. This was going to be a hell of a ride, wasn’t it? A real hell of a fucking time.

-------

Duncan had finally escaped from his mother’s clutches; she had insisted he stay later than he’d wanted to, going on and on about the Foundation, Claire Underwood’s opposition to the bill, his Uncle Bill’s chemo (I’d feel worse about his cancer if he wasn’t such an asshole all the time, Duncan thought), the Gala (“I’ll be the one to take her for a dress,” she’s said matter-of-factly, and Duncan had been unable to hide his smirk; good luck telling Kenzie what to wear, he thought, she has a unique style of her own and I would never presume to do that, and Mom, I’m giving her an expense account, and I’m not going to tell you about it, and she’s going to keep her things at my penthouse and you can’t stop her because I won’t let you), the Dance Center’s grand opening, and the inner workings of his recent projects for the front that was Gardner Analytics; a hard-working piece of propaganda orchestrated by Annette primarily, though he didn’t presume to erase his own contributions and involvement. Duncan felt as though in a few short days the trajectory of his life had abruptly switched course somehow; had been pulled into a tunnel lit by fairy lights and roses and wisps of summer air full of drifting flowers; the things he’d cared about only a few days before no longer seemed to mean anything, and his thoughts were full of Mackenzie Stone like an oasis of water in a desert, a haven of wondrous meaning in a vast expanse of nothing. His mind drifted with the Lafite ground into his blood now, and he laid his head back on the leather backseat of the BMW (Samuel was playing Duke Ellington and John Coltrane now; In a Sentimental Mood, he thought, oh yes, I am). He looked down at his phone, finally alone to text Kenzie without any interruptions or prying eyes.

Baby, I’m so sorry it took so long to text you back. It took a long time to get my Mom to a place where she wasn’t being irrational. Thank you for sending me that link; everything’s okay, my Mom has seen it already, we’ll make it through this, I promise. She wants to meet you on Friday as well; can we see your Mom on a different day? I can make time on Wednesday or Thursday, I just don’t know if it’s a good idea to have dinner with both of them at the same time yet. I feel like we’re going to have to ease them both into this, and I want everything to work out okay. I want them to accept this (accept us, accept you, accept me) because it means more to me than anything else. You do.

I miss you terribly right now.

He lowered his phone, staring out at the night, and truly he wanted nothing in the world but to be with her. He felt starkly afraid at forgetting the smell of her hair and her perfume; he wished he had a piece of her clothing or a token of some kind to grasp in his hands, assuring him of her reality in a world that seemed to lack her in every instance in this moment. A world without her was truly abject. He sent a silent prayer into the sky; Fates, you seem to be the Gods for me: make her sure that I love her, because I do, I do, I do.

He felt his phone vibrate in his hand, and looked down, dazed in the rhythms of drum and piano; Kenzie.

Baby, can you come to my apartment? Please come.

Duncan sat up with a jolt, his hazy drunkenness eeking away. “Samuel, go to Kenzie’s apartment building, please.”

“Of course, Mr. Shepherd.” Samuel turned abruptly, without needing to change the course of his GPS; I guess he knows the way to her house already, Duncan thought, and he smiled, full of affection and anticipation. Coming to you, baby, he typed, and sat back, Ellington and Coltrane assuring him: fortune is smiling on you, the Fates have heard your prayer.

[saey-bae]

I have another one lol. The RFA falling in love with their childhood best friend? I saw that you’re wobbly with Baehee so it’s okay if you don’t want to include her!😊

o man bless this childhood friends are The Best™

thank you for your lovely request, darling, and i hope you like this (i will be answering the other one at some point)~

edit: i’m sorry how troll-ish yoosung’s turned out to be ;; and apologies if jumin is ooc this was actually so hard to write what the heckle

under the cut because it’s pretty long

check out my masterpost here

Yoosung:

your parents were good friends and the two of you were born within a month from one another, so the two of you were friends since birth, really

he had always been the person to stick up for you without any if, buts, or doubts he was always defending you blindly first and asking questions later, which got him into quite a bit of trouble

you were always the one who stayed by his side through thick and thin and you taught him how to do cool tricks like riffle shuffling cards or magic tricks he really liked those

and the two of you were inseparable throughout elementary school and high school and, in some ways, neither of you could live without the other; you were the yin to his yang

even after you moved away for uni, the both of you stayed in contact via skype, calling, and texting. every. single. day.

aside from his family, you were the rock in his life which made you family, even if it wasn’t legally or by blood

because your families were connected, he always took that fact for granted and never really acknowledged that you were family

but he never felt that so deeply until rika’s funeral

you flew back to attend the funeral, dropping everything to be there for him

and he relied heavily on you

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times is this considered plagiarism if i cite it in mla

it was during one of those 4 am phone calls when he found out he had fallen for you

one of those badum-badum moments, where he could hear his heart pounding and if it was a manga, you could see it too !!

he still distinctly remembered it– it was a little embarrassing because he recalled that it was the night after rika’s funeral and he was crying poor bby missed her so much

and he called you blindly, not really expecting you to pick up because you were probably dead tired and wanted to sleep before your flight at 9 am

but you did, and you answered in a sleepy, “hey yooyoo, do you want me to come over? i can bring some ice cream”

he said yes

you brought ice cream over

the two of you sat side by side on the couch in the den, eating ice cream from the tub

you whispered comforts to him in the dark and he reached over to take your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze

your smile, illuminated by pale moonlight, lifted his heavy heart

yoosung knew he would be okay as long as you were with him, and by the way his heart constricted when you gave a squeeze back, he also knew that he had fallen for you at some point

and he would tell you someday

Zen:

the two of you met shortly after zen ran away from home

you went to the same school, and he just happened to catch you playing the entertainer on the piano in the music room during lunch while he looked for an empty room to practice his singing

you played it ridiculously faST HOW DO YOUR FINGERS MOVE THAT FAST WAT

was very impressed

you taught him piano and, subsequently, learned the musical pieces he performed so you could help him practice

while his love for music and acting were shunned at home, you encouraged it– heck, you were a musician yourself, having grown up at home with a father who was a conductor and a mother who was a pianist

you even tried to take up acting with zen, though you were terrible at it and quit shortly thereafter

you were there with him through his struggles

best friends 5ever

he found comfort in you because you never paid much attention to his looks

while you didn’t deny that he was handsome, you were more interested in his music and his projects, and he appreciated that more than you knew

and he never judged you for being a music geek because he was an even bigger music geek

he spent a lot of nights at your home, and he found a family in you and your own family

even after you found a career as a professional pianist and you were a fairly renowned musician, you still found time for him

he swore that your dedication to him was what first made him realize his feelings for you, but that was when he was dating another girl

zen dated countless numbers of girls, but none of them ever seemed to hold a candle to you

why?

when he finally realized he loved you, it was hard for him to hold back… but he did for the sake of your friendship

if you didn’t love him back, it would break his heart and ruin the most meaningful relationship in his life

but during one practice session, you were playing a new piece you learned for his new musical, rent heck yes it was seasons of love, and you were so close to him

he could smell the delightful scent of your shampoo and feel your warm body pressed against his side as you taught him how to play it

your hands were all over his as you tried to position his fingers right like an apple, zen, your hands should look like you’re holding an apple

his heart was pounding in his chest and he couldn’t stop his cheeks from flushing

when the lesson finished, his hands were clammy and he had never felt so unnerved

and in the spur of the moment, he leaned over and kissed your cheek

froze up when he realized what he had done

“huh?” you blushed heavily

“i… uh…” for an actor, he wasn’t very good at acting “thanks for the lesson”

“of… course”

then you kissed his cheek ohgod his face was burning

his eyes searched yours, unable to fathom why you would reciprociate until he saw your gaze dart to his lips briefly

slowly cupped your cheek and leaned in, pressing his lips against yours in a sweet, chaste kiss

when you parted, the two of you professed your feelings in rushed words, lips still brushing against one another’s

and he was quite sure you were his fate

Jaehee:

I will be able to write all the lovely headcanons for you one day, Jaehee– I swear it. That day is… just not today.

Jumin:

jumin never had many friends as a child

sure, his father’s associates had kids and he was forced to mingle with them

but aside from v, he was pretty lonely

until he met you, another rich man’s child

you were so different from all the corporate children– you were unruly and dressed sloppily and you came to formal functions with paint stains on your fingers and cheeks

somehow, you were all smiles, your small frame full of boisterous laughter that he had never heard before

and he found himself curious… drawn to you, even at the age of ten

you were an engine of chaos, a tornado, sucking in all those who got close enough

the two of you became good friends, but he found that there was still a barrier you put up that prevented him from getting closer

he always wondered why, but knew better than to bring it up

though he did find out several years later, when he saw you and your father talking in closer proximity down a deserted hall during a function

it was more like him shouting at you, telling you to behave and stop embarrassing him, while you listened

he waited until your father left before coming to comfort you

and he found that, under your chaos and unruliness and happy façade, you were broken and depressed

you hated yourself and you hated your life

you purposely disobeyed your father and refused to fit the mold of a perfect corporate daughter, and he hadn’t quite realized that until he found you like this

the shame jumin felt was only matched by his fierce need to protect you

in his trade, you were unique– an eccentric flower that bloomed against all odds

and he was going to protect you, his flower

under his nurturing care, you did continue to bloom

he took care of you, and you soon moved out of your father’s house to live with him

somewhere along the way, you brought out the playful parts of him that he didn’t know existed

and while he knew his wealth of feelings for you were profound, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you

you brightened up his life like the flower he considered you to be, and he couldn’t bear for you to leave if you didn’t feel the same

aside from his hidden feelings, everything was going fine until the two of you were in your early twenties

that was when your father was caught participating in inside trading– he even went to jail briefly for it

your reputation and family name was irrevocably damaged, but jumin was there to help you through it, despite his own reputation being on the line

and when he stood up to his own father about the issue, he realized he was prepared to lose face and name just to save you

he was going to do anything to protect his flower, anything to keep you in his life because he couldn’t live without you

he loved you

and unbeknowst to him, you loved him, too

Seven:

he was locked away for most of his childhood, and didn’t have any friends as a child, aside from his twin

leaving home tore him into two– and it left him utterly alone

seven longed for proper human company, for friendship– god, he just wanted to stop feeling so lonely

while he perfected his hacking techniques, he found chatrooms off the grid, specifically made by hackers for hackers

although he never spoke, he watched a specific chat on the side– the people there seemed friendly, though he was too nervous to participate

after a year of watching, he had a a good sense of the personalities of the people who frequented the chats

and there was always one username that caught his eye: x

whoever it was, the person was kind, but sarcastic, and had a dry sense of humour

he found himself logging in at all kinds of hours just to see if x was around

and one night, he caught x alone in the chat, spamming computer science memes that the other members would surely appreciate

feeling a surge of courage, he said hello

“hey :)” your smile emoticon made him smile involuntarily, too

there was another human! a living, breathing human somewhere in this world –who he admired– talking to him!

their conversation was brief, but entertaining, and seven found himself wishing he could talk to x again

after a few more late night chats, he voiced the desire

you offered to write an algorithm for a private chat, which he hesitantly agreed to, but only if he was allowed to work on it as well

the two of you ended up writing your own code for a private chat –again, off the grid– and you spoke often

often became all the time

throughout the years, the two of you exchanged info that he was never meant to be speak about– names, numbers, addresses

he found out that you were a university student around his age who learned programming and hacking for fun

you showed him other things you learned in high school– fascinating things that he regrets not having learned, like biology and chemistry

in exchange, he created small robots for you and promised that one day, the two of you would meet so he could give them to you

at one point, he grew bold enough to watch you on cctv with your permission

you waved at the camera you knew he was watching, and his heart skipped a beat at the sight of your smile– he’s never seen something so blindingly beautiful

he knew at that point, he would hack anything just to get another glimpse of you

[wonder-vixen]

Character Diaries: Green Dragon

I worked hard on this and I’m sharing it because I’m proud of it. I would love to hear what you think of it. Thank you

“Character Diaries: Green Dragon”

People believe that the universe is a balance between light and bright. Some believe that they exist because of each other. Others believe they work with each other. I don't know what I believe anymore. I was born in 1786 Japan. When I was 5, I was taken from my parents by the House of Tatsu. They gave me the name Hisako Fujiwara and began preparing me for my destiny. Training me in every form of combat known to man. They sharpened my mind and spirit as well. I learned how to protect myself and innocents. How to solve puzzles and mysteries. I studied the history of Earth, it's cultures, and it's languages. When I turned 16 I went through the Rites of Ryuu. Showcasing my skills, knowledge, and perseverance. The last rite I had to surrender my body, mind, and spirit to Relonikiv, goddess of Dragons. I could feel her entering my body. Caressing my mind. Kissing my spirit. Memories long forgotten flashed. A heated sensation washed over my body. The closes thing I could compare it to would be an sexual orgasm. I felt Relonikiv leave my body in a state of euphoria. I tilted my head and brushed back my hair. Exposing my neck. Williny giving myself to my goddess. She bite my neck and began to feed upon my blood. Once she finished, she slit a gash into her wrist and presented to me. I accepted and drank from her. Refilling my body with her essence. For blood is life. Blood is energy. Relonikiv and I are now bound by blood. The goddess has seen me worthy of her gifts and has blessed them upon me. My training continued, now to help me harness my new abilities. I was now as strong as a legendary dragon. When in battle, my skin becomes as tough as Dragon scales. I would learn how to control water, as well as camouflage myself into any surrounding. In time I was able to transform myself into a green Asian Dragon. I was even able to fly in human form by temperately growing wings. While I thought her gifts were a blessing, it was also a curse. For dragons live for centuries. There for I age slowly. I should have known. Yin and Yang. Once I reached 18 years of age, I was finally able to fulfill my destiny. Becoming a Draco Vintex. Modern society would call us superheroines. We fight to protect the innocent and battle the darkness. We seek to keep balance and peace in the universe. Locals would name me Hekishoku Tatsu or Green Dragon. I've grown to embrace the name over the years. Being a Draco Vintex is a lonely life. You are encouraged to avoid relationships with outsiders. The pain of seeing love ones grow old and die, while you barley age a day, is unthinkable. We only have each other and we are few. A small handful of us spread out across the world. Protecting our own area. Rarely venturing outside our borders. Draco Vintex had become myth and legend over the years. Stories passed down through the ages. During the 1900s I started hearing stories of heroes and protectors but they weren't Draco Vintex. House of Anguis confirm their champion hasn't took the rites yet. Somehow the United States of America has their own protectors but they are different. These heroes choose to help people. They were given a power and choose to use it to help those who can't. It was very strange to me. Confusing. I had to learn more. See these supers in action with my own eyes. Even though it was forbidden, I sneaked over to America. These so called superheroines had flashy attires. They wear mask to conceal their identities. Were they ashamed? The names they called themselves were quiet strange. Lady Minx. Ms Moon. Kat Marks. Jay Bird. What do these names mean? Why all the colors? The tights and spandexs? Using my camouflage ability, I started following a young superheroine who called herself Sensational Fox. The colors of her attire match those of real foxes and concealed her face behind a fox like mask. I could tell that she lacked any training but somehow still managed to get by. She was fast and agile which she used to her advantage as she appeared to not be as physically strong as other heroes I've seen. I followed her home and discovered that was just a teenager. She looked to be the same age as I was when I took the Rites of Ryuu. She has a family. Parents. Two older brothers and a younger sister. I barely remember my parents. Never had a family. This little girl had a family and still fights for the innocent. Why couldn't I have kept my family? I continued to follow her trying to learn more. She attends a school a few days a week. It's nothing like the teachings I've had. She has friends that she talks to. They laugh together. She was very close to one of her friends. They'd often hold hands and kiss. She'd refer to him as her boyfriend but never called her female friends girlfriend. A 16 year old girl has a family, friends, a romantic partner, school, and still chooses to fight for the innocent. While I don't understand the spandex, I do understand the mask. It allows them to try and have a life and protect those they care about. That is truly amazing. Unfortunately this secret mission of my brought up a lot of questions and emotions. I don't remember my real name. Did my parents have more kids? Am I able to have kids of my own? What is it like to Be in love? To have friends? I allowed my emotions to get the better of me. Falling to my knees sobbing. My camouflage broke and Sensational Fox could see me. She had just stopped a bank robbery and was about to leave when she noticed me. Instead of leaving she walked over to me. Bent down to her knees and wrapped her arms around me. My tears flowed more yet I had a sense of safety. Once I've regain my compulsor, she asked if I was okay. I told her I was fine and asked if there was somewhere we could talk. We went to a local dinner and I started to explain to her who I am. I admitted to following her and ensure her I had no interest in using that information, because she had inspired me. I continue on, asking her question after question. She was very open and honest with me. When she started asking of me, I was open and honest as well. We talked for hours and she insisted we keep in touch. I didn't own a phone or have a home address but I promised I would keep in touch. Once I return to Japan I began looking for a place to call home. Natsuki was a small village surrounded by beautiful Sakura flowers. They welcome me with open arms and helped me build a place to call my own. After we finished building my home I was able to start writing Sensational Fox. Her name was Amy Kyle but I always called her Sensational Fox out of respect. I was so inspired by Fox that I worked with local blacksmiths to create an dragon like armor to wear into battle. I also adopted a mask and embraced the Green Dragon nickname more. This allowed me to be Hisako Fujiwara when I was in Natsuki. I'd also make regular trips to America to visit my friend. I'd train her in combat and tried to pass along any knowledge I could to help prepare her for a battle. I was even lucky enough to team up with her a few times. When she was expecting her first born, she named me godmother. When her son came into this world, I was by her side. She named him Drake. Fox convinced me to try dating. It wasn't easy. By this time I looked, at most 25 but I was nearly 200 years old. Everyone was younger. But I managed to find someone who accepted me. Akio Yamamoto. He was such a sweet boy. We tried for a baby. I even carried a child in me for 6 months before I lost him. I have never felt so much pain in my life. Little did I know it was an omen. The dark times came and the superheroines of the west started disappearing. One heroine, Lady Minx, turned her back on the innocent and became greedy. Because of her actions, nearly every hero died. Some in battle. Others in their own home. Even my follow Draco Vintex were starting to be slain. I had to get to America to see if my friend was okay. I kissed Akio goodbye, telling him I'd return and I loved him. I flew to America. I made it to Fox's house and found sobbing on the ground. In her arms she cradled the lifeless body of her son, my godchild, Drake. All I could do was hold her as she once held me. This was when I learn the true horror. That Lady Minx turn and started murdering heroines. Minx learned of Fox's identity and slaughter her entire family. Making sure Fox seen her only child died. Moments before I arrive they were in battle. Minx was injured and fled. Fox knew where she was heading but she was too weak to make it there in time. I told her I'd fly her there and we'd end this together. I promise her Minx would die.I was filled with rage and sarrow. I wasn't afraid to get my hands bloody and I really wanted to dig my claws into this Lady Minx. We manage to catch Lady Minx before she could sail away on a stolen ship. She was on the radio with some man she only referred to as Doctor. Fox and I fought her and her group of rouges. I focused so much on killing Minx that I didn't realize one of those rouges was G.I. Payne. I could have finished off Minx quickly but I was driven by anger and revenge. My emotions got the best of me. I wanted Lady Minx to suffer. After nearly drowning her I ripped off her head and smashed it with my own hands. I was relived for a moment. Then I hear Sensational Fox whisper my name. Hisako. I turned around and seen her sitting on the ground. Several bones throughout her body had been broken. She was paralyzed. Payne was holding her head as he grinned at me. Amy was whimpering and crying as she tried to say "I love you". She wasn't able to. He snapped her neck and jumped into the ocean. I cried out in pain. I rushed to her side but she was gone. My first friend. My best friend. My first love. She was gone. She died because I allowed my emotions to rule me. If I'd been faster maybe my godson would still be alive. If I didn't torture Minx, my best friend would still been alive. I failed them. I brought shame to the Draco Vintex. My search for Payne found no results. No idea who this Doctor on the radio was. If there were any Superheroines left, they went into hiding. I flew back home only find that Natsuki had been burned to the ground. No survivors. No clues as to what happened. All that beaty. All that hope. Turned to ash. I had lost everything I had held close to my heart. House of Tatsu made sure to let me know that I had brought shame to the goddess Relonikiv. That me defying tradion was the reason I am suffering. It was a lesson I had to be taught. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I left and traveled the world. Trying to find my place. I couldn't be a Draco Vintex anymore. Over the years the world moved on. The events of the dark times became a bedtime story. Like the Draco Vintex, the superheroines became myths and legends. But one day I heard stories of a woman in Kingston Falls. Someone fighting against the injustice. I thought nothing of it at first. But I kept hearing different stories. Stories of a masked woman stopping a bank heist. These stories seem familiar but new. I looked into more and continued to find more stories about a new hero. This couldn't be right. I tracked her down and watched her in action. She had was stronge but lacked confidence. Something about her seemed familiar. After witnessing her stop a bombing, I was about to fly off. I seen enough. However, I smelled something I haven't seemed in years. I heard a crash and seem this young heroine was in a battle with G.I. Payne. It took so much not to react. I had to keep my emotions in checked. The battle was fierce and the young heroine held her own. She was inexperienced to say the less. No sign of training at all. Nearly tripping over a rock which was all it took for Payne to gain the upper hand. He pummeled her and began toying with her. He broke her left leg. I can seen where this was going. I summon a body of water and blasted him away. He was only down for a moment but it was long enough to grab the heroine and fly her to safety. She was a bit freaked out but wasn't able to flee. I just looked at her as I took her leg in my hands and starting healing her bones. A trick I picked up from my world travels. It takes a lot of Chi. After the young women realize what I had done she thanked me and introduced herself. "Whoa. You healed my leg? Thanks. Hey! I'm Wonder Vixen. At least that's what Twitter calls me. What do they call you?" Vixen? I looked up at confused. Twitter is still strange to me. I didn't know if it was destiny, but I knew that I couldn't let this Wonder Vixen fight without being prepared. She needs a mentor. Someone to guide her. This must be my purpose. "My name is Hisako Fujiwara. I was trained to be a Draco Vintex from a young age. I was blessed with the gifts of Relonikiv, goddess of the dragons. I was once known as the Green Dragon until the dark times came and took everything I ever loved. I will be your teacher. I will prepare you Kitsune. You will become a fierce champion that will inspire hope." Wonder Vixen looked complex but eager as she said "Right? So excuse me, what's Kitsune? I'm Wonder Vixen" I smiled for the first time since that dark night. "To me you are Kitsune. When you are ready, I will tell you what it means."

[wowphotography102-blog]

Our world is strange, I've always thought at least. Everyone is born with a necklace, with half of a unique shape. The person who holds the other half is your one true love. Most people find theirs in high school, but I was lucky. I’ve known who my true love was since I was 6 months old. Except, he didn’t hold the other half. Mine was sort of like a half circle almost, like the yin yang symbol. His on the other hand, was a strange octagonal shape. His name is Seth, and we are the first couple not meant to be. I’ve never met the person who I'm supposed to be with, but I know my necklace is wrong. Seth had to be my one true love.

As we slowly strolled down the hallway, hand in hand, he led me to my locker. I opened it slowly, not really wanting to go to first period. Seth took my bag from me, and put it in my locker.

“You ok?”

I nodded, reaching up to wrap my arms around his neck. He hugged me tightly, obviously not wanting to let go. The bell rung loudly, making me jump slightly. Seth kissed the top of my head gently, and turned and walked to his first period. I sighed deeply and sluggishly walked to my math class.

Once there, I realized there was a new kid sitting in the seat next to mine. I sat my book on my desk and slid into my seat. While sitting through a boring lesson, I took off my necklace and was playing with it gently. Suddenly i felt a tap on my shoulder, looking over I saw the new kid eyeing my necklace. He slowly took off his and held it up to mine. His was shattered completely, which is meant to symbolize that his soul mate is dead. Except, his was the other half of mine. I had found the person I supposedly belonged with, but it made no sense. According to his necklace, I am dead. He looked so confused and shocked at the same time, which I’m sure was the exact expression on my face. Once the bell rang I ran right out of the room, not giving him a chance to speak.

I went straight to the bathroom and called my mother.

“Hello?” Her soft voice played over the speaker.

“Mom? I… I… I’m confused.” She didn’t respond.

“The person who’s necklace matches mine, is shattered. Doesn’t that only happen when their soul mate is dead?” Again I got no response.

“Mom?” I heard a long drawn out sigh come from her end.

“Mallory sweetie, we'll talk when you get home.”

“Then come get me.”

Another long sigh filled my ears. “I’ll leave in a little. Give me a little bit.”

I hung up on her, and proceeded to wait in the bathroom until she arrived. I was so confused as to what this meant, and I needed answers. After an hour and a fairly quiet car ride, I sat on the foot of the bed next to my mother. She gently squeezed my knee and walked to her jewelry chest and pulled a small box from the drawer. Handing it to me, she returned to her seat next to me. I opened it to find another necklace. I looked at her, confused. Her eyes began to water.

“When you were born, you were supposed to be a twin. This is her necklace, or at least we thought. She died in the womb. Which would explain why the boy you met today had a broken necklace.”

I was utterly shocked, she kept it from me for seventeen years. Not to mention that she had given me the wrong necklace.

“I’m sorry sweet heart.”

I played with my real necklace in my hands, pondering my twin. I was an only child, and now I knew why.

“Why did you never tell me?”

“We were going to tell you, we just never knew how.”

I pulled out my phone, and scrolled through my gallery. Once I found it, I couldn’t breath. My real necklace was the other half of Seth’s. I texted him, saying I needed him fast. Telling him that he needed to come over right after school,or earlier if he was willing. Within an hour there was a knock at my door. I opened it and threw myself into his arms.

“Mal, whats wrong?”

I looked up into his eyes. “Absolutely nothing.”

I smiled deeply as I lifted my necklace up to his, to find a perfect match. His confused expression turned to the biggest smile I’ve ever seen as he bent down so we could share our very first kiss.