#and what an excuse to stare at all the backgrounds and elements you made for the show

[deepspacehoney]

Finished up this big fake screen cap and I'm proud of how clean it looks. Maybe Eugene only shows up in transitional areas in this version of the game? >:/c

Tried to stick with teals because that's our boy's associated color. As well as moons and cats, a few of the shops from the show, and Gobbago.

Made an entire dialogue box as well~! Fonts I used were: 1) Caesar Dressing, 2) Tahoma, and 3) Alegreya Sans. Feel free to use it!

#drawtectives #eugene finch #grendan highforge #rose drawtectives #gyorik rogdul #my art #this one is for you julia! #because i love this man and he deserves art #what a sad fancy boy you've made #and what an excuse to stare at all the backgrounds and elements you made for the show

[phynoma]

HALLOWEEN COUNTDOWN

As a countdown to Halloween, I'm sharing the original statements I wrote for the Consuming AU! (<<click for ao3 link) The statements function as horror shorts that work on their own

Statement 4: The Collector

CW: lab tests using foetal tissue, family pressure, transmasc pregnancy scare, unwanted pregnancy, distortion-typical gaslighting, familial trauma, pseudocyesis with supernatural elements, dysphoria

Character Notes:

Kevin Park is transmasculine and nonbinary. He uses he/it pronouns. His voice starts out nervous and a bit fussy, not particularly high class. When he's alone with prey, his voice grows deeper and more full, with a background like a cape whipping/unfurling–a sort of Dracula-esque darkness that it can reveal at will. Think stingrays, hypnotising cuttlefish, cloaked figures, Audrey 2

KEVIN

I suppose you should know that I never wanted children.

Even as a young child, I found the idea of playing "house" abhorrent. I enjoyed being the only child in my family, doted upon by my parents, and I had no inclination to gift that devotion to anyone else.

By all accounts, I was a dutiful child. My mother, especially, had great hopes to see me as an independent business woman in some kind of scientific field– engineering, or surgery, or tech– who would nonetheless settle down with another independently successful man and start a family. I succeeded only on two counts: I became a biologist, and I was successful.

If I had hoped that these examples of success would be enough for her to overlook my notable failures– namely, that I forsook being her daughter, and showed no interest in a family of my own– I was disappointed. The latter was worse, in her eyes, than the former. I think she would have approached my transition with a sort of grudging acceptance if I had at least settled down with a partner with whom I could produce her grandchildren.

Instead, I did the next best thing: I began working in a lab that researched genetic anomalies in foetuses. It gave me enough of an excuse to combat her questions over family dinners about why I didn't want children, when saying "I simply don't want them" wasn't enough.

At first, the conversations were few and far between. She might ask me if I’d started seeing anyone, and I’d find out one of her friends had become a grandmother. Or, she’d make a subtle comment after seeing a celebrity pregnancy announcement.

As I entered my early thirties, however, the conversations became more frequent and more pointed. My father stayed out of the ensuing arguments, but I could see the reproach in his eyes. I doubt he cared about my choices, except that I was upsetting my mother.

I began avoiding both of my parents when I could. I'll remind you that I was an only child, and uncommonly close with my parents. Since college I had made a number of acquaintances but no real friends, and I still rented a room in my parents' terrace house. I was somewhat isolated, but content that way. I went to work, did my tests, got an occasional drink with my coworkers, picked up groceries, and went home. This repeated every day, week after week, without change.

But I was excited to be in the lab. I was at the Ferral Biological Research Institute at the time, in their immunology department. We used foetal tissue, you know, donated, to grow viruses and test vaccines.

On a day like any other– maybe I was a bit tired from a late night, but nothing unusual– I found myself just… staring into my petri dish. I looked at this little sliver of tissue that wasn't anything, just some cells, and knew that my mother wanted me to be a living incubator for this sort of thing. I mean, it's nothing like what people plastered all over their posters when they picketed outside the lab. I stared, and stared, and for a moment it seemed like all the saturation left the room and swirled down into that dish.

I stood over it in my PPE, frozen, my hand locked in place. I watched the thing shiver, and expand. Multiply. It still was nothing, a piece of tissue, but it was growing. I felt like it was…reaching for me. Like it wanted to slither inside of me, to turn my temperature to its liking, to bite its way into my flesh and suck its sustenance, its substance, from me.

And then… it was gone. Just gone. I blinked, and I didn’t have a dish, or a pipette, or anything. It was like I’d walked to my table and just… hadn’t prepared anything. I looked for it, of course. But it was gone. Thought I was going mad, but, well. Let’s just say I blamed it on insomnia and moved on. Unnerved, yes. But by the time I got home that night, I was mostly concerned with avoiding my parents and having a peaceful night in.

It's important to note that I didn't go out at all between the weeks of October 9th and 25th–but it was six weeks after that that my symptoms began.

It was subtle, at first. Stomachache, loss of appetite. Chills. I thought, (mirthless laugh) for a while, that I was coming down with the flu. Stayed away from the lab; and when my symptoms cleared up enough not to be a danger to our work, went back.

When the dizzy spells started, I thought it might be overwork, or side effects from the new dosage of T I was trialling. I checked in with my GP, but my bloodwork came back fine.

I started to see things, from the corner of my eye. Faces. They were gaunt and hungry, and their eyes were the dull grey colour of hospital curtains. Women started to come up to me in grocery stores. They’d take my hands, or put their hand on my shoulder, and they would just…look at me knowingly, pityingly, and then simply walk away again. The sound of babies crying started to echo in my head like a siren– I went back to my GP for that, thinking I had tinnitus.

My ankles swelled until I was hobbling. I had to put in a request at the lab for a chair so I could continue my work. My coworkers, when we went out, stopped ordering drinks for me. When I asked why, they didn’t seem to know. I became so ill in the afternoons that I went back to my GP again, and for the first time I looked at the box marked Are you pregnant? and I wondered.

But of course I wasn’t. I couldn’t be. I had never been with anyone for it to be medically possible. I’d had a girlfriend, for a bit, but it hadn’t gone anywhere and we’d broken up months back. But I felt this weight inside of me, something wrong, and I thought of the wriggling thing I’d seen in my petri dish, and I bought a test.

It was negative, of course it was negative. But I started testing weekly after that. Then daily.

A woman with a child in each arm came up to me while I was smoking in the park and told me “congratulations.” I gained weight. Every day I stared at myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth– at the stubble that I couldn’t get to grow into an even beard, the circles under my eyes– and I wondered what people were seeing when they looked at me.

Months went by. The illness never went away. I began craving odd things, nonsensical things. Marmite on pickles. Parsnips dipped in ice cream. My lab notes. The condensation on the inside of my coworker’s safety goggles when they hadn’t affixed them properly.

One day, I walked in on my mother knitting a baby onesie. It was pink on one side and blue on the other. I asked her who it was for, and she just giggled to herself and started singing an old nursery rhyme. Her face was pale, and gaunt.

I went to specialists, but nothing could explain the weight gain, or the sleeplessness, or the dizzy spells, or the cravings. Nothing could explain the way I felt trapped, more and more, inside a body which had only recently begun to feel like home. Hormonal adjustments, sleep studies. Nothing worked.

The pregnancy tests I was now taking daily didn’t have lines. Instead, they formed twisting, pink patterns that hurt my head to look at and made the dizziness worse. I kept taking them.

At work, things were tense. I kept to myself even more than I had before, but there were anxious rumours going around. Samples were disappearing. The security cameras didn’t show anyone breaking in, which meant it was someone inside the lab. But there was no evidence of anyone bringing samples out, either. If the culprit wasn’t found, our funding could be cut, and a costly investigation launched.

In the unisex bathroom, on breaks, I began methodically tearing toilet paper into one cm strips and eating it as my lunch.

My skin felt too tight, most days. I’d lost all the weight I’d gained, then gained it back. People still came up to me in the market, with their unasked for and unwarranted touches, their gentle, knowing concern. I discovered that if I smiled at them, their bodies would seem to lock in place, like mine had at the lab. It was easy enough to move them out of the way and continue on with my business.

My mother unravelled the knitted onesie and re-knitted it half a dozen times. She never moved from her chair, now. The fibres of baby-soft cotton were stained the blood of her rope-burned and blistered fingers. My father sat in his place at the head of the kitchen table and watched me come in and out of the house with dull eyes.

“I’m proud of you, son,” he’d say if I’d approached with the day’s groceries. His gaze never left my left shoulder. He’d nod and repeat his phrase, his eyes bloodshot. “You’re making your old man proud. I’m proud of you, son.”

Seven and a half months after I started noticing my symptoms, everyone was fired from the Ferral Biological Research Institute, pending investigation. In one of the supply closets, they’d found every single one of the missing samples from the lab. There was never an official report, but we heard the rumours.

The supply closet had been one that had been rarely accessed, and no one could remember going there in the last nine months. The shelves were all arranged with the stolen samples in test tubes. They were meticulously labelled, named and dated but the names were things like “ego death” and “cassandra” and “haphephobia,” and the dates were the birthdates of every employee in the building.

There were hundreds. In each tube was a tiny, doll-sized piece of a human person–a heart, a minuscule hand and forearm, a liver, a clump of hair–impossibly crafted of human tissue. The more you looked at them, the more you doubted your first assessment of the contents; and yet, the more you became certain that they were alive. Waiting. Hungry for a host. Waiting to slip inside a perfect incubator and spawn and hundred thousand more tiny, maddening lies.

My symptoms disappeared shortly after I began working at Lars Grisham Labs. Some of their samples go missing, on occasion. But more often than not, I prefer live subjects, now. And I’m always looking for new places to store my collections.

ARCHIVIST

…Statement ends.

[Breathes steadily for a few moments]

ARCHIVIST (CONT.)

(soft) Thank you.

***

If you want to read more from this AU, you can find it here!

Post 1 | Post 2 | Post 3

#tma #the magnus archives #jon sims #writing #fanfic #the consuming au #original statements #horror shorts #horror writing #ao3 #the collector

[pastelwitchling]

Michael and Alex enter Maria’s mind.

As Michael and Alex sat across a sleeping Maria, Alex couldn’t seem to help but watch the monitors, and Michael couldn’t help but watch him.

When he’d asked Alex for his help saving Max, he had half-expected another rejection, another excuse, another blatant, “I don’t want you anywhere near whatever it is I decide to do.”

But Alex had taken one long look at him, something crossed his expression that Michael couldn’t read, and he picked up his backpack and said, “What do you need?”

Michael hadn’t let himself believe that it was him and Alex again, working together. He couldn’t think around anyone else like he could with Alex. Paths just seemed to open up in front of him, answers were made clearer, hope felt like something attainable. And he dared to hope now that with Alex’s help they would find a way to save Max and put Jones back in the pod where he belonged.

Except Maria was stuck in her own head and a part of Jones was in there with her. Alex’s eyes narrowed at the screens, like he was trying to find the missing code that unlocked Maria’s consciousness.

Michael leaned in, his voice quiet as he said, “Staring at it won’t wake her up.”

Alex gave him an unimpressed look that managed to make Michael’s heart flip despite himself. “Ha ha. I’m thinking. I’m not the science genius Liz is or the physics prodigy you are . . . but I know technology. There has to be something in the coding that connects.”

Michael hummed. “Well, if you find a machine that can read aliens and makes pancakes, let me know.”

“It doesn’t make pancakes,” was all Alex said. Michael started to smile, but Alex’s expression was grim.

He thought about the look on Alex’s face when he’d come into his own driveway to find Michael on his porch, about to knock on the front door. The way fear and guilt and relief and exhaustion – above all – had colored his expression.

He was just about to ask where Alex had been all day that had him so high strung when Alex turned to him, brows furrowed. “What about waking Maria up from the inside? Can’t Isobel do that?”

“She tried,” he shrugged. “Jones has her mind hostage.”

Alex pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. “And you?” he asked. “Can you do that whole mindscape thing?”

Michael almost smiled. “Why? Afraid I’ll enter your mind and find out how bad you want me?”

Alex didn’t deny it. “What if you went into Maria’s mind? If Isobel already tried, maybe you can pick up something she didn’t.”

“Why would I be able to do that? Nobody knows her better than Isobel anyway.”

“You’re her ex!”

Michael’s face turned very warm very quickly. “It was a tough time, okay?” he grit his teeth. “And I thought we agreed never to mention it again?”

Alex sighed, tapping his foot on the tiled floor, and Michael watched the shifting shades of brown in his hair, his eyes, the pink of cheeks. Michael realized this was one of the reasons he could think better around Alex. He was always concerning himself with noticing the tiniest details about Alex, his hair, his gorgeous lips, his strong arms, that other little details came to him, too. It was like opening a gate.

So as he watched Alex now, he decided to try it. He reached out and brushed Alex’s hair back behind his ear, under his beanie. The strands were even softer than he remembered.

Alex started, tensing up, until Michael let the back of his fingers trail down, gently grazing the side of Alex’s neck. Alex exhaled shakily and a light shined in his eyes.

“That’s it,” he murmured. He turned to Michael, grabbing his wrist tightly. “Can you take me into her mind with you?”

Michael blinked, trying not to focus on Alex’s fingers as the gripped him. “You want to take a tour of Maria’s mind? You sure about that?”

“Jones will be expecting any one of you,” Alex said, “except me and Kyle. Kyle . . . can’t be here right now. I’m the only surprise element you’ve got.”

Michael considered that. “We might be able to startle him just enough to shake his hold loose –”

“—Enough for Maria to slip free and give us information.”

Michael did smile this time. “Genius.”

Alex blushed, and looked back to Maria. “Let’s just get it over with.”

Michael stared, unable to help but bite his lower lip at the red in Alex’s cheeks. He held out his hand. “I actually do need you to hold my hand this time, Private.”

Alex, if it was possible, turned even redder, and carefully put his hand in Michael’s like he was worried Michael was joking and would push him away at any second.

As if, Michael thought, gripping Alex’s hand unbearably tight.

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of Alex’s muscle against his own, Alex’s warmth, Alex’s scent. He didn’t think it was what he was supposed to be thinking of, but it worked anyway as one second they were sitting in a hospital room, and the next, they were standing in the Wild Pony, music playing in the background, the lights casting a warm yellow glow.

“Where is everyone?” Alex asked, looking around at the empty space.

Michael shook his head, already starting to say he didn’t know, when Maria stepped out of the backroom behind the bar, looking just as confused.

“Michael? Alex?”

“It worked,” Michael huffed. “Good thinking, Private.”

But Alex wasn’t looking at Michael. He was looking down at their combined hands. He quickly let go, and stepped forward to hug Maria. Michael tried to ignore the cold after letting Alex go, and stayed close to him.

“How did –” Maria was shaking her head as she sat down. “Why –”

“It was Alex’s idea,” Michael said, and he told her the plan.

“I should’ve known,” Maria said with a grateful look at Alex. “Always the hero.”

“Yeah,” Alex said grimly. “I feel very heroic. Look, do you have anything you can tell us about what Jones is planning to do with Max? Anything that’ll help us wake you up?”

Maria’s brows furrowed as she thought about it. It seemed like thinking in here for her, accessing any of her own ideas, was a lot more difficult while it was under Jones’ hold.

Then she started to nod, her frown deepening. “Yeah, I – I think he said something about March in 19 – 1969. And – and something that happened then with the aliens.” She put a hand to her head and hissed. “I-I’m sorry, that’s all I can think of.”

None of it made any sense to Michael, as the crash had been in 1947, not almost twenty years later, but when he turned to Alex to complain, he found Alex’s eyes wide, realization dawning.

“Alex?”

“Oh my god,” Alex murmured. “It can’t be . . .” He looked to Michael. “I know what to do.”

Michael straightened. “What? What do you mean –”

But before he could ask, Maria gasped suddenly and grabbed Alex’s hand with both of hers, holding on tightly as if terrified he would disappear if she let go. She was looking at him as though he’d been stabbed.

She shook her head. “S-Something terrible is going to happen to you.” She turned to Michael. He’d never seen her so serious. “Protect him with your life, Guerin.”

Michael frowned, an uneasy dread climbing in his chest and building too quickly for his liking.

“Maria,” Alex frowned, “what’re you . . .”

Just then, the Wild Pony started shaking, like an earthquake had suddenly struck. Maria winced and held her head in her hands. “He’s back,” she warned. “You have to leave! GO!”

Michael blinked with a gasp, and the next second, he was back in his chair in the hospital across a sleeping Maria, Alex panting beside him. They were still holding hands. Michael gripped tighter.

“What did she mean, something terrible was going to happen?” he demanded. “Alex, what was she talking about?”

Alex only shook his head, looking just as lost but not nearly as distressed. “I have no idea.”

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

[animezing-fandoms]

No More Waiting (Gruvia Week 2021 series) Chapter 1: Beguile

Masterlist

Relationships: Gruvia, background Nalu.

Warnings: Implied/Referenced smut.

Series Summary: After the 100 Years Quest, Gray’s finally ready to be in a relationship with Juvia. And after pining for each other for so long, things escalate quickly. 

Chapter Summary: Fairy Tail goes to the beach for a weekend for Sorcerer Weekly to take pictures of them. And seeing Juvia in a swimsuit, has Gray feeling some kind of way.

A/N: For gruvia week I decided that instead of writing a bunch of one-shots, I’d string all the prompts together into a mini-series! Each chapter based off of one prompt for each day. So here’s the first one for “beguile”! Enjoy!

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

You’d think that an ice Wizard would hate going to the beach. But Gray actually enjoyed it quite a bit. The weather was warm but if he got too hot it was easy to cool down with his magic. Not to mention, it was perfectly acceptable for him to wear minimal clothing. 

“Gray you’re naked!” Lucy exclaims.

Perhaps not that minimal. 

Gray turns around to see where he discarded his swimming trunks and hurries back to put them on. 

“Sorcerer Weekly paid for us to come here because they want pictures of Fairy Tail wizards having a day at the beach for their Summer issue. Not idiots in the nude.” Lucy scolds Gray. 

“You’re one to talk.” Gray retorts. “You’re practically nude yourself. That bikini you’ve got on under your cover up barely covers anything.” 

That earned him a smack upside the head. 

“At least I’m not flashing my goods to anyone like you.” Lucy says.

“Fair enough.” Gray says and rubs the back of his head. 

He looks around at all of the people on the beach. There were Fairy Tail guild members and a few civilians. But the one person he wanted to see most, seemed nowhere to be found…

“Looking for Juvia?” Lucy asks teasingly. 

Gray stiffens up and Lucy giggles. When he turns around to see her smirking face, he bristles with annoyance. 

Ever since the 100 Years Quest ended, it was pretty obvious to everyone that he returned the water mage’s feelings for him. It was true, he was in love with Juvia. But he didn’t love all of the teasing from his friends that came with it.

“No. Aren’t you wondering where Natsu is?” Gray asks. 

That got her. Lucy blushes and looks away from him.��

“Well yeah but it’s not like I’m dying to see him or anything.” Lucy says as she sets down her stuff and starts to unpack. 

“Really. Because I think you may have bought that new swimsuit just to impress him.” Gray says.

That earned him a whack in the head from her beach bag that knocked him into the sand. 

“That is completely idiotic!” Lucy exclaims before taking off her cover up, revealing her pale skin, and white bikini to the salty air of the beach. “Besides, it’s Natsu. You know he doesn’t care about stuff like that.” 

“Hey Ice Princess!” 

Speak of the devil, Gray thinks to himself as he turns around and sees Natsu running up to them, carrying a beach ball under his arm. 

“Come play volleyball with me! I know that I’m better at it than you! I’ll totally kick your ass!” He taunts. 

“We’ve only been here for ten minutes and you’re already challenging him to a fight?” Lucy asks. 

Natsu looks over Gray’s shoulder, to see Lucy and his playful demeanor instantly changes to a flustered one when he sees her. Gray was shocked. Natsu has never shown any interest in women or relationships before. He’s never gotten flustered by them either. While all of the guys in the guild would be drooling over sexy women, Natsu couldn’t care less. Until now, apparently. His eyes were glued to Lucy’s form and his cheeks began to heat up. 

Lucy began to get flustered under his gaze. Gray could tell she was just as shocked by Natsu’s reaction as he was. Although Lucy was probably hoping this would happen someday, but she didn’t expect it to actually come to be. 

“W-what do you think Natsu?” Lucy asks shyly, tilting her head to the side and pushing her chest forward a bit to try to look more attractive. 

“You look…great.” Natsu answers.

Lucy blushes and looks away from him. 

“Oh…thanks.” She says. “You like my new bikini?”

“Yeah it looks perfect!” He compliments and Lucy has to cover her mouth to stop herself from squealing in surprise and excitement. “It’s perfect for playing ball with me and Gray! Think fast!” He exclaims and tosses the ball at her, and it hits her in the head.

Gray smiles and laughs. Natsu sure had them both going for a second there. But sure enough, he was still his same old dense self. It was obvious he was into Lucy but he still didn’t know how to show it properly yet. So nothing out of the ordinary or groundbreaking would be happening today. 

“Gray-sama!” A familiar voice calls to him from the ocean.

Or so he thought. When he turns to see Juvia, he suddenly realizes why Natsu was so flustered when he saw Lucy in her swimsuit, because he was feeling the exact same way about seeing Juvia in hers. 

She was wearing a simple light blue bikini, the same color as her hair. The top was held together by a knot in the front under her breasts, tying the two pieces of fabric together. So her cleavage was on full display. And as she made her way out of the water and towards him, he couldn’t help but stare at her legs. He always thought they were her best feature. They were strong, hiding powerful muscles under smooth, soft skin. Soft skin that glistened in the sunlight from the water droplets that remained from the ocean. By the time she was in front of him, he was practically in a trance, lost in her beauty.

“Could you help Juvia put up her beach umbrella by her towel? Gray-sama?” She asks when he doesn’t answer her. 

She was confused. He was staring at her, but he couldn’t seem to hear her. And his eyes didn’t seem to be on hers, they seemed to be looking at something lower…She waves her hand in front of his face and he snaps out of it. 

“Huh? Did you say something Juvia?” Gray asks, embarrassed that he caught her staring.

“Yes. Juvia asked if Gray-sama wanted to help her set up her umbrella?” Juvia asks again.

“Oh yeah! Sure!” Gray answers a little too quickly. 

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

She brings him to her towel and he immediately gets to work with the umbrella, using the task as an excuse not to look at her so he could get his thoughts in order. But then when he turns around to stand the umbrella up, she bends over to try to pick up a hermit crab she spotted, and his thoughts became even more scrambled. And now the umbrella wasn’t the only thing standing up.

Even before he returned his feelings for her, he’d always found her attractive. I mean who wouldn’t. But seeing her like this now that he knew he liked her, he couldn’t help but let his imagination indulge in thoughts of what her smooth skin would feel like under his hands. And what it would be like to touch the places that were covered underneath the fabric of her swimwear. How it would feel to have those long, gorgeous legs wrapped his waist while she moans his name in the throes of passion-

“Gray Fullbuster and Juvia Lockser sharing a towel together on the beach! So cool!” Jason exclaims, spotting them and coming over. 

Gray lets out a sigh of relief. This would be a good distraction from his smutty thoughts, for sure. 

“Hi Jason!” Juvia greets the photographer cheerfully. “Juvia found a hermit crab in the sand!” 

She shows him the little crab and he inspects it. 

“So cool!” He answers, predictably and Juvia sets the creature back down in the sand.

“Have you gotten any good photos so far?” Gray asks. 

“You bet!” Jason answers enthusiastically. “You Fairy Tail wizards make the hot beach look so cool! And seeing an ice make wizard, and a water mage, the two coolest magic element wizards standing here together in the sun has inspired an awesome idea for a photo! Can I take a picture of you two together on the towel?” 

“Oh Juvia would love that!” Juvia says and bounces on her feet. 

Gray gulps, as the action causes her breasts to move a bit and he was suddenly beginning to feel flustered again.

“Would Gray-sama pose on the towel with Juvia?” Juvia asks him. 

Even though Gray knew that getting close to her when her body was so exposed like this was a bad idea, he couldn’t say no to her. He’s already disappointed her too many times. 

“Sure, why not.” Gray says simply and the look of joy on her face was enough to make him smile too. 

“So cool!” Jason exclaims. 

Jason directed Gray to sit on the towel, so his side was facing the camera. And then he instructed Juvia to sit on top of him…on his lap…

“Uh…She’s gonna sit where?” Gray asks, with his face starting to turn red.

“She’ll be straddling you on your lap.” Jason explains.

“Is Gray-sama okay with that?” Juvia asks, blushing a bit as well.

Gray looks her over once again and considers his options. She’s just sitting on his lap, surely he could control himself right?

“Yeah, hop right on.” Gray says as confidently as he can.

Gray gulps as Juvia swings her leg over him so she’s straddling him and then sits herself down in his lap. He was eye-level with her ample chest and he could see the droplets of ocean-water roll down the valley between them. And the feeling of her warm, supple thighs on either side of his hips, squeezing him was making his mind head straight for the gutter as he imagined being in-between her legs for something other than a picture. He gently squeezes her sides as it takes all of his will-power to stay calm and collected. But any control he may have had over himself slipped away instantly when she gently held his chin in her fingers and tilted his head up to look at her.

“Gray-sama, is there a problem?” Juvia asks in a soft voice while Jason takes some pictures of them.

She was so beautiful. Like an ocean Goddess. And he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted her, and neither could his body. And soon Juvia could feel that against her and she gasps.

“Yeah. A big problem!” He mutters.

Gray gets up immediately and runs into the changing room, losing his swim trunks in the process, but that didn’t matter. He was alone now. He could take care of himself in here. But what he didn’t realize is that the cause of his arousal had followed after him to return his clothes to him. 

So when Juvia pulled back the curtains to announce herself, she got a full view of what she had done.

“Gray-sama are you alright-Oh!” Juvia exclaims when she sees the cause of his distress. 

Her pale face turns bright red and she covers her hands over mouth to keep from screaming as her eyes stay fixed on his crotch unable to look away, and neither could Gray. His eyes were fixed on her, wondering which one of them would speak first. 

“You...you were right.” Juvia says softly. “That is a...big problem.” She gulps and averts her gaze. 

Gray takes the opportunity to grab his trunks and pull them on. She was staying silent, which was less of a relief and more of a worry to Gray. Normally she couldn’t stop talking  and she’d cling to him. But now she was silent and unsure as she looks away from him.

“Gray-sama...” she says softly. 

“Yes Juvia?” Gray replies. 

She turns to face him again and meets his gaze. 

“Did Juvia...do that?” She asks shyly. 

Normally Gray would’ve lied. He would have denied it, called her crazy and stormed out while she chased after him. But things were different now. Now that he had become a man who could protect her, he didn’t have to reject her advances. Nor did he want to. He wanted her more than anything, and she had a right to know that. 

“Yes.” Gray answers.

Juvia’s eyes widen and she lets out a soft gasp. 

“You’re so beautiful Juvia, and you look so sexy in that swimsuit. I couldn’t help but get turned on. I’m sorry.” Gray explains. 

“Why is are you sorry Gray-sama?” Juvia asks. 

Getting more confident, she steps closer to Gray and he gulps. 

“Juvia has always wanted Gray-sama. So now if he wants Juvia...” She says and stops right in front of him, standing up on her tip-toes to kiss him. “He can take her.” 

So he did. 

He wraps one arm around her waist and holds her cheek in his other hand and brings his lips to hers. 

Juvia was surprised at first, but let herself melt into the kiss. Her hands moving up his chest to rest on his shoulders as they kissed. 

As they make out, she presses her body more firmly against his and Gray’s hands can’t help but wander her body. 

She presses up against the tent in his trunks, causing Gray to groan “Juvia” and Juvia to moan “Gray-sama”, a noise that only turns him on more. 

But before she can take off her top like she was working on doing, Gray places his hands over hers to stop her. 

“Wait.” He says. 

Juvia’s lustful gaze turns to one of worry. Gray felt a twinge of regret, knowing because of their past that she was afraid he would reject her again. But he wasn’t. In fact he was doing the opposite. 

“Come with me.” Gray says simply and takes her hand to lead her out of the changing room. 

Juvia’s heart soars with excitement. 

“Gray-sama, what are you doing?” She asks. 

“Taking you on a date.” Gray says and Juvia stops breathing for a moment. 

“Oh Gray-sama! That makes Juvia so happy! But why do you want to go on a date instead of just making love to Juvia?” Juvia asks. “Does Gray-sama not want Juvia in that way?”

“No. I do. But I figure that if we’re gonna do this, I wanna do it right.” Gray tells her. “And you mean too much to me for me to just screw you before I’ve done something to show you that I care about you.” 

Juvia blushes and runs up closer to Gray to hug his arm. 

“Juvia knows that you care about her. But whatever Gray-sama wants to do, Juvia is fine with.” Juvia says. 

“Alright then let’s go on a date.” Gray says. 

And with that they walk into the woods together.

#gruiva week 2021 #gruvia #gruvia week #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia

[somethingwittyandweird]

So, I’ve once again taken up the pixel pen and put together 30 days of swords for Swordtember! I feel like I’ve improved a lot since last year’s offerings, and I felt a lot more confident working with the program and trying more complex things. I even tried my hand with some more animations this year!

Once again, this year’s offerings are a mix of existing swords from various media, redesigns of old swords I drew years ago, and new swords made specifically for this challenge.

Blurbs for each sword under the cut!

Shadow: A long katana-like weapon wreathed in shadowy tendrils. My first attempt to adding an ‘effects’ layer. Shape evokes the yin.

Light: Another katana-like sword with radiant light shining from the tip. Design evokes the yang. Obviously, meant to be the perfectly balanced counterpart to Day 1′s sword.

Insect-Like: A sword that evokes a bee/hive motif. I sorted through a lot of various bug designs that I wasn’t really feeling, but I finally settled on this one as one of the less creepy-crawly kind of bug.

Ghostly: A spectral, animated pirate scimitar. The concept of a ghost blade made me ask what a dead blade returning to life would look like. I settled on a broken hilt with an animation of the ethereal weapon appearing in place of the lost blade.

Lava: A sword with a motif of a river of lava running down its length. I spent a long time staring at Zelda fire temples to get the look of the ‘rocks’ floating in the river of lava to look right.

Snow: A chilling, translucent icicle blade with a snowdrift design on the hilt. I decided to try and create a light reflective effect to sell the ice aspect, and I’m really surprised at how good it turned out in the end.

Storm: A bronze blade with a detailed painting of a thundercloud and choppy seas on the blade, and wind designs in the background.

Anchor: A blade made in the shape of an anchor, with a detail of seaweed wrapping the hilt. This one is certainly better at bludgeoning than slicing- I took a cue or two from armor-breaking blades with similar top-heavy designs.

Summoned: A collage of the prior 8 blades, plus a new broad blade, emerging from several portals. These were initially all new blades, but I felt it was cooler to reuse the prior swords for the background blades. Inspired by the “Gate of Babylon” ability from the Fate series. I’ve never seen the Fate series.

Banished: A long blade being broken apart and drawn into a void portal. This is the only sword where I filled in the background of some sort of room, but I felt it was helpful to emphasize the vanishing point.

Dwarven: A short blade with angular, detailed designs on the blade and hilt.

Elven: A recreation of the Master Sword from Zelda. Because it’s my favorite sword to draw and I wanted the excuse. Hylians are close enough to elves for my purposes.

Delicate: A sword made of glass. Once again very proud of the light reflective effect. Very sharp, but not very durable....

Aquatic: A colorful blade with a motif of kelp, coral, and a clownfish hilt. Definitely the most visually popping sword of the bunch.

Forest: A longsword with vines wrapping the crossguard and roots twined around the hilt. Enchanted leaves swirl around the blade. A very druidic blade.

Broken: The delicate sword, shattered into pieces. Maybe glass weapons weren’t the best idea.

Bone: A recreation of Blutgang from Fire Emblem: 3 Houses. The Crest of Maurice, this blade’s associated crest, is visible in the background.

Floral: A long, elegant blade with a lotus motif in the guard and hilt. I really like the palette on this one. 

Musical: A sword with a staff design on the blade, clefs on the crossguard, a piano keyboard for a hilt, and a whole note for a pommel. Probably makes noise when you hit things with it.

Blessed: A golden, hallowed blade surrounded by holy light and angelic figures. I’m very pleased that the shape of the angels reads so clearly despite being pretty small in size.

Eyes: A shadowy blade covered in glaring red eyes, with a toothy smile for a crossguard. Inspired by Pride’s shadowy tendrils from FMA:B. 

Alive: A recreation of the Mimicry blade from Lobotomy Corporation. A wicked cleaver covered in exposed, warped flesh. An unexpectedly nasty blade, I think I’ll steer clear of more horrific elements in future.

Multi-purpose: A recreation of Leon (Squall’s) gunblade from Final Fantasy VIII. Gunblades are a little silly, but fun.

Vampire Hunter: A longsword with a cross on the guard and a wooden stake inlaid in the blade (so it’s effective against its quarry). A looming bat-shaped shadow glares from the background.

Translucent: An ancient-looking hilt with a cracked, green gem. The blade is made of energy and flickers in and out in time with the gem pulsing. This is a relic of an age past, and the magic that once powered it is all but drained away...

Stone: This is a pointed, angular obsidian blade with a tigers-eye gem for a pommel. One of a series of elemental swords I designed a while back.

Cosmic: This is a broad, star-studded blade with a green glow emitting from the blade. The palette is directly inspired from the 3AM Dress aesthetic from Homestuck, and the symbol of the Space aspect is visible above the grip. I make no apology.

Mechanical: A large blade that folds out segment by segment to its full extent. I had this idea early in the month, and worked on getting it just right by the end. Things that can fold up into a convenient size then fold out to a full extent are very much my jam.

Wind: A blade that curls into a spiral evocative of a gust of wind. 

Ornate: A bejeweled blade adorned with filigree, with a crossguard in the shape of a crown. A truly ostentatious weapon.

#my art #swords #swordtember #again really proud of how much i improved since last year! thank you to my friends who asked if i was doing this (and thus made me do this)

[aio-rya]

My World

Azul x Fem!Reader 「Part 1」

「By: Aiorya」

A/N: you can listen to this if you want to get a little ambience on it. The romantic atmosphere~

"I wanna be where the people are... I wanna see~ wanna see 'em dancing... "

The soft, velvety voice echoed sweetly across the hallway, ocassionally interrupting the lyrics to hum instead of singing. Spreading through the wide open main door of the Lounge to the main hallway that connected it to the dorm building, accompanied by the piano gently played on the background. Music never stopped, the combination of both elements with the silence and loneliness of the place seemed ethereal, the unmistakable voice always clever had now the perfect tone for a lullaby; his owner was so immersed on his thoughts, daydreaming on every note of his melody to notice the quiet steps approaching, still on the corridor, guided by the most lovely voice she had ever heard. It was like listening to a mermaid, driving you further into the sea with an unbreakable harmony able to make your soul crave for the sweet chant of the creatures of the depth. Enchanting enough to intoxicate your senses, feeling it down to the core.

Her path blindly guided by the song as a sense of drowsiness took control over her mind, her eyelids were heavier and her lips barely opened in amusement, breathing the cold air of the empty, large hallway as she caressed the wall, tiptoeing as she moved closer to the origin of the music. Silently, she entered the Lounge looking for her merman, taking some time to appreciate the beauty of the place when the crowd disappeared, with low lights apart from the stage, crystal clear bubbles dancing with the calm of the ambience in the water behind the glass, wide space to move freely, to dance to her heart's content.

"Wandering free, wish I could be...

She started swaying, her arms fluttered around her body as she went round and round all along the center of the hall, dancing with herself at the pace of an invisible waltz written by the humming. She almost felt underwater, surrounded by the infinite blue as if she could merge on it. Becoming...

"Part of that world..."

The rhythm of the instrumental intensified, the keys were still played gently yet overflowed with passion, something fierce that ignited every piece of herself with the same fire the had on his heart. As he made music, she made a dance, even if they couldn't see each other yet, they were meant to be —two pieces of a puzzle created to fit together. Her eyes were closed as she left out any sign of shame or discretion, her blouse swirled as she moved showing a small part of the smooth skin of her stomach, her beautiful legs drew invisible forms on the floor and the air at the pace of her improvised ballet. His eyes were closed too as he felt now not alone, the heat inside his chest grew widely, somehow that song managed not only to remember him his homeland or his family, but himself.

Everything was perfect. Until he opened his eyes to come upon her slim body, heavenly twisting and turning as if the center of the Lounge was her stage; it also remembered him home, all those beautiful mermaids he saw into the distance when he was a child, free and beautiful creatures.

Creatures who hurted him.

"What would I do to live where you a--"

It was late when he tried to stop, he had already sang half a sentence —he was not bothered by her presence, he just felt vulnerable. The music broke with a chord, filling the place with silence once more, as if nothing has happened there. Even her steps turned heavier as she stopped tiptoeing to walk on her feet again. Ambience was not relaxed anymore, it was tense.

"Why are you here?", the owner of the Lounge asked in serious voice.

"I...", her voice was a bit broken by the surprise, she cleared her throat as her steps led her near to him. "I brought you what you asked for", [y/n] excused her intrusion, looking for a paper on her pocket, placing it over the lid of the piano.

Azul maintained his empty expression as he opened and read the paper, nodding once after putting it inside the pocket of his shirt. Then, he took his hat from the same lid and prepared to leave —surprisingly, the girl, the human sat by him, standing in his way. She caressed the surface of the white keys, ocassionally touching the back ones, carefully to not make a single sound.

Octavinelle's dorm leader was, somehow, breathless. How distracted he could have been to catch the attention of the only person in this academy who knew, besides Floyd and Jade, how broken he was once and how heartless he could seem on the outside, but how tender, kind hearted was he on the inside? He was nervous, that unspoken feeling both of them have had for a while was now floating around them, filling the air, consuming the oxigen of their lungs. She actually liked his music, his voice and now was touching the keys where his fingers were flying across a second before, as if she wanted to rescue every piece of the heart he left on that keys, on that old song of his homeland.

«I didn't know you could play human instruments so well...» , she longed to tell. But she couldn't, the knot on his neck will not allow that without shedding a tear. Instead...

"How...", Azul asked in a whisper.

She started playing, one key by one, the exact lyric pattern of the melody he was singing earlier. Her fingers were not as mastered as his, but they were delicate, pressing the keys strong enough to be heard but not to click with the wooden surface under them. Then, a soft humming echoed on the room again, her voice —despite not knowing the lyrics, the girl tried to repeat the rhythm. Azul couldn't do anything but stare, barely processing the scene before his eyes; that until she stopped and, with a silent sigh, intended to leave.

"And ready to know what the people know...", he started singing, pressing the keys one by one to accompany his voice. "Ask 'em my questions and...", his voice left its weakness aside as his fingers took control once more of the piano, making a soft change between lyrics to the entire melody once more, "Get some answers..."

His heart increased its beating, he almost felt it coming out of his chest when she leaned towards him, laying her head on his shoulder as her right hand moved to the cuff of his shirt. He felt her warmth very close, almost feeling her touch on his skin; rarely they could touch each other, part shame, part pretending, but now they felt safe —there was no more shame, they were now not pretending.

"What's a fire and why does it, what's the word?", he asked as if he meant it, waiting for her response. Never stopped playing, even if she took more than expected to catch it.

"... Burn?", she completed guessing the word under Azul's glance. A sweet smiled appeared on his face, the melody lessened its sound until it was only a steady, sweet barely perceptible sound for them.

"It is an old song from my home", the boy explained, gently playing a scale until his finger brushed against hers; she returned the smile to him, blushing as she could feel her heart "It... Well, the legend says it was the song that travelled all along the sea when the Princess, the one whom dream made real by the compassionate Witch of the Sea, fell in love with... With a human."

Yes, sure. She remembered that story, from her world too; different though the same in essence. Somehow... She felt part of it. As if that story were about to be told again, this time, she will be the little mermaid that lonced so hard to win the prince's heart.

"When's it my turn? Wouldn't I love, love to explore that shore up above?", the voice of his... «L-loved one?», her surprise of the sudden adjudication snapped her out of her thoughts too. She blushed, madly, as he slightly moved his hand so her fingers slipped down to his skin, tangling over his fingers to play along, guided by him.

"... Out of the sea...?", her voice was still doubtful, yet confidence appeared at the moment she came upon his sky blue, brilliant eyes.

"Wish I could be..."

She finally understood. There was a place she belongs to, and maybe they could discover it... Together.

"Part of that world..."

～ Ξ ～

"Nee, Jade...", whispered one of the brothers.

"Eeh, Floyd...", answered the other at the same volume.

"Do you think this will be funny...?", the first one asked.

"If Azul doesn't take back what he did...", the second said melodically.

Both eels mischievously laughed, not an evil laugh but they had something on mind. What could it be? Nobody knew yet; both slipped out of the Lounge without being noticed. Only a pair of grey and yellow eyes gleaming in the dark.

#ツイステ #ツイステッドフンダラーンド #twst #twisted wonderland #オクタヴィネル寮 #octavinelle #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #twisted wonderland azul #twst floyd #twst jade

[ally-127]

my request... joshua angst where there's an argument on ur anniversary n you can decide whether to make it a happy or sad ending!! thx ally :-)

lisianthus

pairing: husband!joshua x reader word count: 1.6k warnings: reference to sex, slightly suggestive material music: ‘lose’ by niki a/n: okay like this is more fluff than angst,, im sorry- my mind literally blanked out when i was trying to think of what they could argue about. but enjoy this romantic af, poetic(?) piece that i also enjoyed writing ngl. thanks for requesting @chocosvt , i hope u liked it...luv u the most <3

“come on kiddos, it’s time for bed!”

you ushered your seven and three-year-old into their shared bedroom, your lips stretched wide into a grin at their playful giggles.

“goodnight, mum,” your daughter, seven, hummed as you tucked her into bed while your younger son climbed clumsily into his beside.

you dropped a kiss on her forehead and turned to your cheeky son, who still had that smile of his. you give him a huge smooch on the cheek. “goodnight, you.”

with both children wrapped up in their sheets comfortably, you flicked off the light switch and closed the door quietly behind you.

a sigh couldn’t help but escape your lips as you shuffled your way back into your room to finish up some work, but before you did, a certain glow caught your attention.

the kitchen was dark all around when you entered, lit scented candles dotted around the table and the only light source in the room.

the flames danced in the breezy air of your apartment, lighting up not only the bouquet of lisianthus on the table but your husband, joshua, who sat on one of the chairs, staring wistfully at the flowers. a glass of wine sat solitarily in front of him, the stain on the rim a sign that he had already started to drink without you.

the beat of your heart was now apparent as ounces of dread slowly settled into the pit of your stomach.

you forgot.

“are we not important anymore?” he began, taking the glass in between his fingers.

“what do you mean?” you remained standing, feeling as if the soles of your feet had been embedded into the hardwood of the floor.

“did it completely slip your mind, or am i now the least of your concerns?” continuous rhetorical questions, or rather, questions of accusations, escaped his beautiful mouth.

you could kiss it a thousand times and still, your need for them to be on your skin would never be satiated.

“jihyun and—“

“do not bring our kids into this,” joshua was painfully serene, like the calm before the storm; the storm in which you could see in the depths of his eyes. “you forgot we’ve been married for ten years.”

you cursed under your breath.

how did you forget?

bringing the subject of work into the argument was pointless now, it only seemed like an excuse.

“josh—“

“i was waiting all day,” he finally shifted his almond-shaped eyes to you. “for you to run into my arms, to kiss me, hell, even to just smile at me. but no, you didn’t even look at me once.”

joshua, on a break from being a performer, occupied himself with taking care of the children and the apartment. he had plenty of time on his hands, his heart full with a sincere wish to spend it with the people he loved most in the whole universe.

you, a full-time working mother, had recently just been promoted in your company. with new responsibility came heavy workload and a brand new project dumped into your control. it was overwhelming, and it blinded a tremendous amount of aspects in your life, including your husband himself.

you realised you didn’t even meet joshua’s eyes as he got them ready for school this morning, while he adjusted their jackets and shouldered their little backpacks to carry it for them, knowing fully what date it was.

you simply kissed your daughter and son goodbye before you took half a litre of coffee with you out the door without uttering a single word of goodbye to your lover.

now, as you stared at him from where you stood, you could feel the effects of neglecting him for the longest time hurling back to you like a tidal wave.

there was no trace of a smile, of the crinkle of his eyes, of the lines that would form at the ends of his eyes that deepened over time and with age.

the expression that stared back at you was foreign, stoic.

there‘s a saying: you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

you knew it wasn’t gone, but the absence of his smile made your heart sink into the bottomless pit of your regret. it was a horrifying feeling.

suddenly, you wanted to do all the things he said you didn’t, smile at him, run into his arms, kiss him.

“i’m sorry,” you almost lost the capability of speaking, your voice small as you gathered enough courage to take more steps towards him. “i really am. i’m such a fool.”

he stood up, his height casting a dim shadow over you. the plastic of the wrapper crunched in his hands when he extended his arm, offering the bouquet of your favourite flowers in your favourite colour to you. joshua could never forget that.

you took them with shaky hands, eyes looking everywhere but into the abyss of his caramel eyes.

“you are not a fool, my love,” he engulfed you in his strong arms, a familiar place, a place you missed often and could call home. a place you almost forgot was your home. “you are my wife,” he kissed away the single tear of remorse that escaped the duct in the corner of your eyes. “my beautiful, strong wife.”

your head on his chest, your fingers fisted in the material of his shirt, you held on to each other for what seemed like the first time in a long time. his woody scent had the effect of waves crashing against the beach and echoes of seagulls in the distance—it calmed you immensely.

everything about joshua calmed you.

it felt like you could remain in his arms forevermore, until the morning sun rose and the lisianthus wilted in the grip of your hands.

“i love you,” you told him, quietly, setting the bouquet aside to sink into his touch.

these were the words he wanted and needed to hear the most, to reassure himself that you did still love him the way he loved you, to make sure that work had not completely overtaken your senses.

“i love you too.”

fingers rubbing your back in soothing strokes, joshua kissed your temple, then the tip of your nose. to reach your lips he had to angle his head in the slightest, long eyelashes fluttering as he reached his destination.

a hum of satisfaction escaped your lips, conjoined with his, knowing fully that you didn’t deserve it yet you savoured every minute. your arms were secure around his neck, not a millimetre of space to be seen between your torso and his.

as joshua pulled away to gasp for air, he reached into his pocket for his phone, tapping away at the screen. half a second later, music began to play from the speakers he had installed on the corners of the ceiling.

your husband enjoyed music, thrived in it. it was his natural element, his escape from everything and life itself.

“dance with me, darling,” he whispered as louis armstrong blew the first few notes of his trumpet, a light melody that entranced your step into aligning with your lover’s, barefoot in the kitchen, head on his shoulder.

“remember in college,” you pondered, reminiscing the iridescent days of your youth. “when we would dance around the communal kitchen in the refrigerator light?”

“when i snuck out of the dorms to visit you half-past two in the morning?” the smile on his face reminded you of how much you truly longed for it, like a breath of fresh air after being suffocated for so long.

he grinned at you like you were back in the heart of a bustling city, of seoul, the thrill of the unexpected running through your veins like a drug. you found an impossible love, forcing the rebellion, suppressed deep enough in yourself until you forgot about it, to resurface again as you met him.

you had never felt as daring as you did when you first saw him.

“we lost so much sleep,” the airy sound of your chuckle urged joshua to tug you closer, dancer feet still in time with the rhythm of jazz buzzing in the background.

“first college, then jihyun,” the way in which your daughter’s name left his lips made the knot in your heart twist, your entire being captivated by his voice.

he twirled you around, stars—no, the entire galaxy—sparkling in those brown eyes as you spun to meet him once more.

“and jiyoung,” the sound of your youngest son’s name elicited a permanent smile from your husband, perfect teeth peeking through.

“i don’t regret a single second of it,” he said, mellifluous in tone, filled with content.

“i don’t either,” sometimes, the possibility of being in love for so long was a question to you that you could not answer.

magic doesn’t exist, but it did then, in that night, surrounded by wicks, aglow in passion, organic scent of lemongrass wafting in the air.

jazz-driven steps, hungry gazes and the brush of his fingers under your sweater made you wonder if you were back in the era of your faded youth. it was as if you were reliving each night of delirium once again, of heated sex in the darkness of your compact bedroom, of muted grunts and the slapping of skin that reverberated off the chipped walls.

joshua lifted the sweater up your head, up your arms. the music, transitioning ever so timely from armstrong to the weeknd, your eyes widening and your hips swaying ever so slightly to the bass. his grin twisted into a smirk, eyes narrowing in desire and the previous storm behind them calming into a wave of dirty intentions.

“take the week off for me, love,” kisses were peppered down your neck to your collarbone as he whispered each word into your skin.

you promised him you would, and you did.

#caratwritersclub #kwritersworldnet #joshua #joshua hong #seventeen #joshua angst #joshua fluff #joshua smut #joshua x reader #joshua imagines #joshua drabbles #seventeen angst #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines

[yongiefilms]

FILM | Flickering

BASED ON | The bingo collaboration feature done by legendnct studios

PRODUCED BY | “Whatever goes around eventually comes back to you. So you gotta be careful, baby,” from After The Storm by Kali Uchis (feat. Tyler, The Creator and Booty Colins) ; “Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms,” from Slow Dancing In the Dark by Joji ; “Baby, I’m afraid to fall in love. ‘Cause what if it’s not reciprocated?” from Honestly by Pink Sweat$

STARRING | Lee Taeyong and Female Reader

FEATURING | Jung Jaehyun, Lee Mark, Lee Jeno, Nakamoto Yuta, Suh Johnny, and Xiao Dejun

GENRE | Romance, Drama, Teen, Angst, Fluff, Slowburn, College, and Frat boy Centred

RATING | PG-13

WARNINGS | Thematic elements, some action, crude humor, mentions of: alcohol, drinking, smoking, anxiety, panic attacks, and heartbreak, excessive partying, stupid college shenanigans, suggestive references, language, and adult themes

PLOT | You were unlucky when it came to love. You fell too fast and gave too much. Though as often as you experienced misfortune, you never truly learned your lesson. However, entering college you knew it would be different, it had to be. No more chasing after infatuation that you perceived to be love, but when you came across him, you knew it would be harder than you anticipated. He drew you in with his alluring aura and made you curious, something that would drive you to seek after someone who didn’t want to be found. Yet as many say, curiosity kills the cat, and one wrong move was all it took. OR He was a fleeting moment, a mere second of time that didn’t last too long.

RUNNING TIME | 29k words

1, 2, 3 NOW ROLLING...

“Okay…Be honest, does this dress make me look like shit?” 

Your best friend, who was perched on your bed some several feet over to where you stood in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, rolled her eyes and let out a scoff, lifting her head up from peering down at her cell phone screen. She knew the question was ridiculous and had no direction because you were beautiful, something no one would deny. Her eyes moved up and down your figure to conduct a proper inspection of you and the dress that hugged your body. Her gaze was borderlining a glare once she was done. She was right, as she always tended to be.

She huffed out a breath, leaning her hands behind her on the soft comforter that laid over your bed and tilted her head to the side. “You can’t be serious. You literally look stunning.”

You flatten your palms against the front of your black satin mini dress, confirming you appeared to be as good as you could possibly be with no wrinkles in sight. “All right, I just have to make sure.”

She scoffed yet again as you twirled around in front of the mirror with a smile on your face, your eyes lighting up with excitement for what would soon come.

But the thrill in your veins subdued as you gave her a pointed stare. “Also just because you’re my hype woman and number one fan, doesn’t mean you can’t tell me like it is.”

She stood up from her position on the bed and made her way over to where you stood, her red stilettos clicking against the vivid brown wood. She placed her hands on your shoulders to smoothen the material of your dress and gave you another once over for good measure.

“Yes I am aware, but you should know by now that I never lie.” Her nose scrunched up the tiniest bit as she showcased her pearly whites. “But seriously,” she stepped back from you, letting her hands drop to her sides. “Can we go now? You take forever to get ready and I just want to go have some fun.” She whined and it was now your turn to roll your eyes at her behavior. She was just as excited as you were, though your ability to mask your emotions was far better than hers. Going to your first college party was enough cause to be eager, surely. 

“Yes we can go now, drama queen.”

She gave a slight glare in your direction at the mention of the nickname, but you laughed it off, loving to tease her as much as she loved to tease you before continuing.

“Anyways let me grab my phone and purse first.”

She nodded her head, and walked out of your bedroom towards the living room area to wait for you, her mobile phone tightly grasped in her left hand with her car keys looped around her index finger.

Once you grabbed your own charged cell phone off the nightstand and placed it in your purse, swinging the strap over your shoulder, you switched the lights off to exit your room.

“Got it!” You exclaimed as you reached her figure leaning against the wall opposite of the front door. You grabbed the sleek doorknob and opened the door, ushering her out as you followed suit.

She smirked at you once you locked the door and placed the key in your bag.

She swung her car keys around her index finger, the metal imprinting her palm when she caught them. “Time for the real fun to begin.”

Then you were off towards your destination, her behind the wheel driving, and you in the passenger seat, the wind blowing against both of your faces from the rolled down windows. The music was blaring from the radio speaker and you giggled amongst yourselves, lip-synching the lyrics to the songs that were your favorites. The adrenaline was pumping through your veins, causing a rush and the unknowns of the night spoke wonders.

If only it was real fun when you arrived at the expanse of the Nu Chi Tau frat house, or more commonly known as NCT around campus. There were already people there, covering the gigantic front yard with red solo cups in hand and flashy attire, but it wasn’t the sparkles of the glitter nor the drunken state of the people that caught your attention, it was something more magnificent. 

The residence that stood before you mimicked one you would only see in the movies. A perfectly mowed green lawn with assorted scrubs encompassed the front yard, leading up to the stairs of the entryway. When you walked ahead you saw everything in clearer light. The house was a few stories high, painted a stark white that stood out in the background of the increasing night. The front lights were on, casting ill-lit shadows that danced against the concrete and some windows glowed the same color, giving evidence that those rooms were filled with occupants at the moment. There was an archway with columns to the side that protruded from the front of the house, as the rest of the habitation was left in the shade. The Greek letters for Nu Chi Tau were nailed on the archway in black and as you neared closer to the front doors, you could make out the words NCT engraved in golden script. You were mesmerized to say the least, the house was beyond beautiful and you pondered how it still looked relatively new in comparison to the other bland frat and sorority houses you had come across. Although, you would have been more in awe if your feet weren’t killing you in that present moment.

When Nicole turned onto the street that would lead the two of you to the frat house, you both had noticed how filled the street was with cars for miles. You had assumed it was most likely due to the party, or the fact that the road was so very narrow, swindling like a wave that made it hard for others to park. Yet regardless of the reason, it is where your dilemma began, for she had to park in the nearest open space, which would be some blocks down from where you needed to be. 

Therefore that is how you both ended up wending your way to the frat house that was so conveniently located at the end of the narrow street, and on top of a hill no less, making matters worse. 

You don’t know how long it took you to arrive, but you had calculated around thirty minutes give or take other technicalities. You were glad you made it all in one piece even if the adrenaline in your veins departed and the light in your eyes dimmed, yet you would still try to have the time of your life.

Your hand gripped the golden handle of the front door and turned, pushing it wider with ease to welcome the even more impressive interior as you strode in with Nicole hot on your trail.

The white painted walls, crystal chandelier, golden swirls on the columns, and the spiraling staircase would have blinded you if it had not been encompassed by the dark, the only light emitting from surrounding rooms and the sporadic flashes of color.

You heard a groan from behind you, jerking you out of the blue.

“Ah fuck…fuck…fuck…fuck. My feet are dead.”

You spun around to see Nicole, struggling to take off her stilettos in quick movements, as you could indisputably make out the redness around the heel of her foot and toes. Her drastic measures were a sight that made it difficult to suppress your giggles.

She heaved a loud sigh from successfully getting her stilettos off and hooked the straps over her two fingers, the footwear dangling from her hand when she stood up straight.

She locked her eyes with yours, puffing out air and a lock of hair that fell in her face amidst her conflict. “I need a drink.”

Your subdued titters came out as you nodded your head in agreement. You both needed some energy after the long dreaded walk and what better way than to drink some alcohol. 

Nicole led the way, brushing up against the loads of people that crowded the foyer, not even managing to mumble a single excuse me, but that’s how she was, especially when she needed to get buzzed. After steering through countless throngs of people, you being the one to mutter apologies, you both had arrived at the kitchen. It was as modern as the rest of the house, with the subtle hints of Roman and Greek roots. The appliances were just as pale as the walls, giving off the illusion that nothing appeared to be present, howbeit the only contrast was the black buckets on the countertops and the black bar stools that were placed near the aisle along with the golden lighting fixtures floating above. Not to mention the various silver tin kegs that were located around the kitchen and the bar, which you passed on the way here, not worth the wait for the drinks the two of you desperately needed. 

The kitchen wasn’t nearly as crowded as the rest of the house, withal there were just some scarce students waiting around, refilling their cups, or grabbing a new drink altogether.

Nicole unhands her stilettos on the white marble floor, the bright red color vaguely resembling smeared blood on a snowy surface, before sinking down at one of the free stools and placing her hand in the black bucket to pull out a beer. Conveniently it was a twist off and in mere instances she took large gulps of the brown liquid, finishing the bottle in one go, not bothering to wait for you to have your own bottle in hand.

She licked her lips and elevated her empty beer bottle out to you. “Cheers my love!” She gave a lazy grin and a smile slipped onto your face. “And shit that beer wasn’t strong enough, I need an actual drink.”

You laughed at her as she stood up and rummaged through the cabinets in the kitchen, on the desperate search for some secret stash. You took the empty seat next to the previously occupied one, and placed your purse on the counter, resting your cheek on your knuckles, waiting to see if she had struck lucky.

“Ah!” she suddenly proclaimed, reaching up on her tippy toes to grab the translucent liquid bottle that was placed on the top shelf. Her fingertips barely touched the tall glass, even so she managed to grab it to some shock, her feet being firmly planted on the tile when she had it in her grasp.

She closed the cabinet door and turned with a crude smirk on her face, hiding the bottle behind her back.

“Guess what they were stashing away?”

Your eyes went wide as you dropped the hand that held the weight of your head to your lap. You were curious but also slightly scared at how the smirk on her face grew. It couldn’t be good.

“Um…” you trailed off, placing your hands on the cool marble countertops. You had no idea.

“Those bastards,” she swore, taking the bottle out from behind her to shake it from side to side as you squint your eyes to get a good look at the label. Though you didn’t have to for she told you herself.

“They stored away Balkan 176 Vodka. Who the fuck does that? Like share you greedy, motherfuckers.”

She placed the tall bottle on the countertop, reaching over to the stack of red and blue solo cups that were near the buckets and pulled out two empty cups.

Your eyes got wider at the realization because no way they had Balkan 176 Vodka, it was the strongest in the United Kingdom market with an alcohol by volume of 88%. 

How did they manage to get a hold of it? 

The damn vodka even has thirteen health warnings on the label.

What the hell are they doing in this house?

You heard the pop of the bottle cap and the echoing sound of the liquid being poured into the two cups, interrupting you out of your thoughts.

Nicole held out the blue solo cup to you, jerking her chin out as a form of encouragement to take the cup from her.

With shaking hands, you reach forward, wrapping your hands around the cup.

You knew you would be wasted beyond belief if she poured a lot of the vodka and you only hoped she didn’t, even if your alcohol tolerance was relatively high.

She bumped her plastic cup with yours, murmuring lowly, “Cheers,” and proceeded to down the vodka in one go as you reciprocated the action.

The clear liquid stung in your throat and you could feel a tingling sensation erupt on your tongue. You shook your head to get rid of the feeling and closed your eyes, scrunching up your nose as if it would somehow help extinguish the burn.

Some tears escaped your eyes and through your blurry vision you saw Nicole step away from the counter, shaking her hands out in front of her with her head tilted towards the ceiling.

“Ah shit that burns…” She let out a few coughs, wiping the back of her hand over her lips. “But it feels great.” She puts her hands on her hips and gives you a wide teary eyed smile when she looks over at you.

You cough yourself before giving her an eye roll, placing two fingers on your temples and giving a soft rub to the skin to guarantee you won’t get a headache.

“You’re crazy, you know that right?”

She walked around the counter to where you sat, as you peered up at her, dropping your hands.

She leaned forward to whisper in your ear rather loudly in order to be heard, “Go big or go home baby.”

You placed your hand on her shoulder and gave her a small push, her giggles standing out despite the music resounding in the other room.

Then her giggles ceased and she stared straight ahead, a blank look overtaking her face, her mouth slightly opening.

Your eyebrows scrunched together. “Hey Nicole?” You asked, raising your butt off the seat to poke at her shoulder.

Her body swayed to the left then right before she shook her head and came out of her trance.

She stumbled over her footing as she tried to move forward and pick up her discarded stilettos off the tile to put them on.

“Nicole!” you called as she prowled forward once she tied the ends of the felt, discrediting the fact that you were still there, but your loud voice caught her attention for her head jolted back to peek over her shoulder to where you still sat.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath and pivoted on her heel to go back to where she once was.

“Sorry, sorry love,” she spoke in a rushed manner, fixing her gaze over her shoulder every so often as she shook her head once more. “I just saw some really freaking hot guy and I just—”

You cut her off, knowing where this would lead to. You gave her a small smile of empathy and encouragement. “It’s okay Nicki. Go get some.”

You lightly gave her a push as she staggered forward. Your smile had morphed into a subtle smirk and she laughed at your eagerness for her.

“Oh I will and make sure to get some for yourself too.” She turned around to give you a wink and a peck on the crown of your head, waving goodbye once she pivoted on her heel to presumably stride over to the boy in question.

The kitchen connected to a small dining space that a handful of students were occupying, having conversations with drinks in hand and you just so happened to be in luck for there wasn’t an enormous wave of people, making it easy to see who caught Nicole’s eye.

You followed her figure of a ruby red strapless dress that stood out amongst the neutral tones of the other attire, to where she had passed by a boy with washed out blonde hair, who so happened to be having a conversation to two other girls. He was adorned in a black crisp button up shirt that was folded up to the elbows, with two buttons undone at the top to showcase a bit of chest. You could catch a glimpse of the light reflecting off the silver necklace that peeked out from under his shirt, which was tucked into a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, contrasting his white vans. He took a sip from his red solo cup, letting out a laugh at something one of the girls said, allowing his perfect set of teeth to be seen as his head leaned back. He had a defined jawline and strong eyebrows that looked even better than anyone else’s in hindsight. Nicole really had gotten lucky and when she brushed her shoulder against his, muttering a sorry under her breath, his eyes had followed after her when she moved away.

He apologized to the other girls and quickly whipped his head around to see where Nicole had disappeared to, realizing she starkly could be seen ready to turn the corner to go to another room. His feet made hast as he was hot on her trail and when you saw him loosely latch his hand onto her wrist to turn her around to face him, you knew she would get even luckier. With her sultry gaze and his flirty smile there was no doubt in your mind.

They vanish from sight moments after for he was ready to whisk her away to the second floor with his arm wrapped around her waist and her hand wrapped around his bicep, whispering in his ear.

Lucky indeed.

You turned away after observing them and sighed loudly, swishing the already nonexistent liquid in your cup. You knew it would be possible to find a boy to spend the rest of night with amongst countless that were available to you, natheless you couldn’t help to feel like you didn’t have the desire to “get some” for a particular reason.

So you heaved yourself off the bar stool, too afraid if you hung around in one area for too long someone would surely make a move to hit on you. You weren’t in the mood for company exuding testosterone and cockiness. You weren’t in the mood for assholes.

You poured some more of the hell vodka into your empty cup to give you something to hold onto when you explored the house. You also made sure to grab your purse off the stool, swearing under your breath that you should have just left it in the car and put your cell phone along with keys in your bra like Nicole had done. Sometimes your level of intellect astounded you.

With a cup in hand and purse slung over your shoulder you made your way around the house, bypassing time without any one thing in mind, hoping to see if you could catch your best friend amidst the large gatherings of people, something that most likely seemed impossible. Yet impossible had a good chance as any to become possible too.

You didn’t know how long you had been moving, probably already circled the whole first floor various times, since the remaining floors were closed off for members of the frat. Time went by faster when you were trying to kindly reject offers of those that made an effort to ask you to dance or if you wanted another drink.

Only then is when you saw him—a glimpse of a boy you once knew when you stopped at the bar for a rest.

He looked the same as he did ever since the start of summer, the same from those weeks ago. Light honey colored hair. Dark eyes. A small beauty mark under his left eye. A soft chiseled jaw. Pale pink lips. His signature eye smile, a favorite feature of yours, one bright enough to light up an entire room, one which always made you feel comforted.

Every aspect of his being was the same, except for the outfit which adored his body, that still managed to give you nostalgia—a black short sleeve button up shirt with one button undone to showcase his smooth pale skin, a pair of white jeans that perfectly hugged his legs, and his staple piece of black worn out combat boots.

It reminded you of that one time he had picked you up in a vaguely similar outfit to take you to the outskirts of the city, late at night just for exploring, for adventure, when the both of you started hanging out.

All of it was the same, he was the same, and seeing him there flirting with some other girl wronged you in more ways than one, even if it had been a little over a month since you last saw him in person so close, yet so very far away.

You ducked your head lower, to conceal your figure behind those that were in your line of sight, even if you were still in the open area of view, while secretly keeping an eye on him to see if he would move. He would either notice you directly or his knowledge would be the one to give you away. He always had a sense of knowing where you were without even surveying or asking. He just knew and there was no doubt he would know you were there tonight. You had to escape one way or another before you became found. 

However, you weren’t as inconspicuous as you had perceived yourself to be.

He must have caught you staring, behind the figures that did little to help you in your avoidance of the boy. You didn’t know when he exactly saw you for his leaden eyes had suddenly flitted over the heads of the people surrounding him to meet yours.

Caught.

To say you were scared or anxious would be an understatement for your palms got sweaty and you felt like you could no longer breathe with your heart beating in your ribcage like the fast beat of a drum.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

He excused himself from the brunette he was talking to, gently taking her dainty hand off his bicep when he turned to leave, muttering an apology to her, and stalked over to where you sat rooted to your stool, nearly paralyzed.

But your senses kicked in before then, prohibiting you from just waiting for his arrival. You stumbled over your footing, the heels on your feet making it difficult to get by unnoticed since you were having some difficulty walking away at a fast pace. You tried your best to steer through the people that blocked your path, heading towards an area away from prying eyes, which so happened to be a dimly lit hall that was empty from what you could see.

He was pushing through the drunken bodies, not even managing to say sorry after every push and shove. You heard him call your name, although it was drowned out with the ringing in your ears, the sounds of the music and shouts mixing together indefinitely.

You turned your head over your shoulder to see if he had caught up to you or if you lost him in the crowd.

No figure in sight. You lost him. You escaped.

You leaned your head against the wall, heaving a loud sigh, trying to shake off the jitters in your body. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and the thumping in your chest refused to cease. You wrapped your arms around you in an attempt to calm yourself, to provide much needed comfort.

Comfort that turned to queasiness.

A unlit impending figure loomed over you, casting your body in a black shadow as your breath became short, making it a hassle to inhale, exhale. 

Caught yet again.

You peered up, to see eye to eye with a boy that once held the entire galaxy in his orbs, but now only held emptiness.

The stare was too intense, making you force your eyes away for your own well-being. His shadow became woozy and blurry, making it difficult to pick out which replica was the real version of him.

You were nearly hyperventilating, your breath staggering and your lungs felt as if they would combust any second from lack of oxygen.

The ringing in your ears became louder as you could faintly make out him mouthing your name through reading his lips.

He then raised his hand, cupping your cheek with his thumb, caressing the skin, and that was when everything became calm through a simple touch.

The ringing in your ears ceased, the pounding of the music and chatters of the people became silent, the jitters in your body were gone, and mellowness coursed through your veins to where everything was at a standstill.

Your eyes were wide as you looked at him, awaiting his next move, his next words.

“Bub…” He started then shook his head, the affectionate nickname accidently slipping without consciousness. You hadn’t heard that name come from his mouth in so long. You missed it. “Ah, sorry.” Another shake of the head. “Are you okay? You were almost having a panic attack. Y-Your…” He trailed off, his hand slipping from your cheek to rest by his side as he turned his head away then back to face you. His eyes were soft and filled with concern. He whispered so softly, you could barely make out his words. “Your anxiety hasn’t gotten worse right?”

It was now your turn to move away from his piercing gaze. You never talked about your conflicts with your friends before, you had almost forgotten you had told him, that he knew a secret of yours, but he was never willing to share his own.

You rubbed your hands up and down your arms to provide some heat from the chills that suddenly erupted throughout your entire body.

You refused to behold him. “No,” you muttered, eyeing the floor. “It hasn’t so don’t worry. I’m fine.”

His calloused hands grasp at your chin so he could turn your face to lay your eyes on him. “Are you really okay?”

You knew the underlying meaning to his question. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, just waiting to fall at four words that seemed so simple to provide an answer to, despite that it was so very hard to voice.

Your eyes dropped to the floor, but he titled your chin up to make sure he saw your eyes when you answered, to see if you were telling the truth.

There was no point to lie, to him of all people, so you mumbled the dreadful word, knowing it was the last one he would want to hear, “No.”

He inhaled a sharp breath, letting his hand fall and took a step back, to provide some space between your bodies. He was the one that now refused to take note of you.

“What do you mean?”

You hugged your own body closer, seeing that he couldn’t provide the much needed comfort, not when what you once had no longer existed.

Your delicate voice could barely be heard. “I-It’s just been h-hard without you. I thought I could do it, b-but…” You trailed off, a stray tear making its way down your cheek and onto the floor. The round droplet of water becoming so lonely, resting there by itself, just like you. “I-I can’t.”

He stepped further away, pushing a hand through his hair, messing up the once neat locks.

“You can’t say that.” He inhaled a breath, raising his eyes to the ceiling then at your figure leaning against the wall. “You can’t ask that of me.”

The frustration seeped through your tone. “I know that!” Your voice became softer. “Trust me I know, but what do you want me to say? That I’m fine without you? That I am happy without you in my life?” You paused, trying to cower into your body further if it was even possible. “You know I can’t lie to you, Jen.” He flinched at the nickname, furthering clutching his hair. “You know I can’t so what’s the point? I’m not happy, I’m not happy…unless it’s with you and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I haven’t moved on.”

He let out a long, exasperated sigh, his hand relaxing before settling by his sides. “No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can no longer be your happiness, but it’s for the best. We both agreed on this, remember? Even if it pains us, it’s for the best.”

You wiped at your eyes. The dry tears could be still felt on your skin, be that as it may you no longer were on the verge of crying, you were angrier than anything else. You threw your hands up in the air, taking steps towards him until you were mere inches away.

“But why can’t the best be filled with joy instead of sorrow. Why Jen? Why can’t we be happy together?”

Your red rimmed eyes and teary face bruised him on all accounts. Whenever you were hurt, he was as well and it was something he was afraid of, he would always be till the end of time. 

“I…” He inhaled a breath. “I don’t know.”

You placed your hand on his bicep giving him a small smile, not letting your temper consume you today. “It’s okay, I get it.”

He leaned his head forward to rest on your shoulder letting out small, shallow breaths as you raise your hand to run through his thick locks of hair.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, bub,” he choked on his words, the nickname slipping past his lips unheard. He hitches up his head off your shoulder, allowing your hand to drop from the movement. He gazed into your eyes, the regret ever so prevalent. “I’m the one to blame for us falling apart.”

You nodded your head, not knowing what else to say, both shocked at his shameless declaration and admittance of his faults, nonetheless also touched that he spoke the truth.

His cell phone then suddenly dinged in his pocket, startling the both of you as he took the device out of his back pocket, the light from the screen illuminating his face in a bright, blinding glow.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. He looked up at you and your furrowed eyebrows. “I-I have to go. I…” He opened his mouth, wrangling with his next words, trying to be careful with what he said next because they could either mend or break the already hanging thread that bounded the two of you together.

A subtle smile slipped onto your face that he could see in the muted lit hall and it melted his heart. He knew you understood, like you always had and always will. 

“I’ll see you around.” He reached for your hand, giving it a slight squeeze, the contact alone was one that left tingles in your skin. “Stay safe.”

He leaves, letting go of your hand and the hold you had over his life, retreating into the darkness of the night for an adventure he always sought to seek, except this time you weren’t by his side.

Though even if you weren’t with him, you weren’t alone. 

“You know,” a voice spoke up amidst the near gloominess of the hall, startling you. You jolted in your spot and turned your body around slowly, the pulse of your beating heart quickening. You saw a figure in the shadows, well at least that is what you could make out.

Had someone been there the whole time? Listening to your conversation with Jeno?

You were more exposed than you realized and you wished it wouldn’t bite you in the back.

Your feet padded against the marble floor and you squint your eyes to get a better look a couple of inches away. Their back was resting on the wall with their left foot planted flatly there as you could see the red solo cup in their right hand. Their head tilted forward slightly as they swished the liquid around the cup before bringing it to their lips and then they proceeded to push themselves off to advance towards you. You saw his figure emerge out of the darkness and when he stood so close to you you didn’t know what to do, feel, or think. You felt like your heart stopped beating in your chest and the blood coursed that through your veins spiked with utter heat, it was a different state, one you never experienced before, not even with a previous lover. 

Your mind went blank and your mouth became dry.

The boy that stood before you was beyond beautiful. You could make out his features in the pale lit hall from every little perfection to perfection for he struck you like he was crafted from above to be unrivaled with no fault in sight.

The first thing that drew you in was his eyes. His eyes were sharp and catlike, a deep brown color that cut through your soul as if he could see every aspect of your being. His eyebrows were rich and fine, in a perfect shape, every hair in the same direction, brushed to be unmoving. While his nose was soft and round, enhancing his delicate features. His cupid bow was prominent, yet light, shaping his thin lips that were pink and utterly pulposus. His skin appeared to be smooth, without any blemish in sight, but you could make out a small scar on the right side of his face that was covered by his hair, though the mark did not take away from his loveliness, only amplified it. His hair was midnight black, almost blending into the background and perfectly framed his face, the strands falling to the sides, right above his eyes, leaving a little bit of his forehead exposed. His face was completely stoic with no mein painted across its fairness and he still was able to be so ethereal, yet imitating with his sharp jawline and pierced ears. He was too good to be true and you felt as if you weren’t worthy enough to lock eyes with an exquisite being such as himself. Even so, your eyes roamed around his face to analyze each and every feature, to truly engrave his image in your mind. 

You could stare all day and get lost in him till he broke you out of your thoughts.

“You know,” he repeated again and you could feel his eyes on you as you struggled to look anywhere but at his gorgeous face. “Whatever goes around eventually comes back to you.” He paused and licked his lips, contemplating a motive. He titled his head before stepping forward while your eyes became wide with curiosity, wondering what he was about to do next. He brought his free hand up from his side, delicately grasping your chin to make you focus on him. His thumb came to rest on your lower lip as you unconsciously parted your lips from his scorching touch. He softly moved his thumb around for several seconds before pulling your lip down at a slow pace. His hand settled completely afterwards, resting by his side anew. He maneuvered right next to your body and leaned his face closer, his pink lips touching your earlobe. He whispered so quietly that you could barely make out what he said or if he even said anything at all. “So you gotta be careful, baby.”

Your mouth opened and closed, attempting to get a response out. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you could feel your hands begin to get clammy. He called you baby, a simple word of affection you heard a thousand times in your life, yet when he said it the feelings that overcame you were different. There was something else in the pet name, an unknown tone of emotion that you couldn’t figure out.

You couldn’t figure him out. 

He affected you so much with mere words as well as actions and you had barely glimpsed at him for not many fleeting seconds. He held you in a spell and you didn’t know if it was one that could be broken. 

You gathered enough courage to turn your head, hoping to see his face a mere centimeters from you, but he wasn’t. He stepped away from you amongst your captivated state and the hotness that emitted from his body turned cold. He didn’t even look at you as he strode by, becoming a small figure amidst a bigger crowd, only leaving you with his last lovely words of advice. You were confused to say the least. He didn’t say goodbye or inform you that he would catch you around campus like you hoped he would. He simply left and with that, you felt as if a piece of your heart did as well. What hurt the most was that you didn’t even catch his name.

Who was he?

That was a question you would strive to find the answer to, if it was the last thing you could do on this forsaken planet during your lifetime. For you were mesmerized by a stranger in the dark, a beautiful one at that who had the power to make you fall with his mere presence and make you forget all the same.

You suppose that the mere explanation why you were disoriented as you made your way back to the heart of the party courtesy of the enigma himself, the thought of Lee Jeno long forgotten.

Everything felt dizzy around you as you felt reality slowly morph into fantasy. The colors of the flashing LED lights were blurring together and the bodies that were pushing up against you when you crossed the dance floor felt too close for comfort.

You needed a glass of water or the fresh air or even someone to take your mind off things. You needed to truly be lost to the bliss of your mind in order to gain sobriety thereafter. You were slightly tipsy, most certainly pushing it, yes, but you were also intoxicated from another source that made you drunk—a boy.

Not even the Balkan 176 Vodka had this much of an impact.

You stumbled forward, pushing through the crowd to get to the kitchen, hoping you recalled the familiar pathway to your destination that had started off your night.

You must have been too close to the floor or were worse in appearance than you assumed yourself to be for you tripped on your footing and fell forward, not before someone’s arm came to wrap around you waist to prevent you from face planting the floor.

“Woah,” they said, their husky voice sounding like music to your ears. “Are you okay there?”

You closed your eyes shut and nodded your head, too scared to turn around to face them through your embarrassment. They maneuvered you around so the front of your body was directly in front of their own. You slowly opened your eyes to the sight of yet another breathtaking boy, making him one of countless others you had seen throughout the night. This particular boy though was one with a dimpled smile. He had a boyish charm that exuded from his persona, but also a sense of maturity at the same time. His deep black hair was parted and a few loose strands fell perfectly over his forehead. He had an inviting look on his face and you suppose that is why you choose him.

You didn’t even think twice before grabbing the collar of his shirt and crashing your lips onto his.

A distraction is what he would be from the brutal reality of your intoxicated world full of heartbreak, lies, and a sprinkle of hope.

He must have been startled for he didn’t move his plump lips against yours for a handful of seconds, but after much adherence he gave in.

It might have been weird to make out with a stranger you didn’t know, one whose name you didn’t even ask for, that is the glamor of college frat parties in some form. Everyone hooked up with everyone. No judgment was given and you were just there for some fun, even if it countered your morals.

Sense was out the door and a high took over. No room for second guessing.

You made out with the attractive boy for some long, draining seconds, before he pulled back first. His lips were swollen and so very red. You were sure you mirrored his features.He licked his lips and titled his head, his gaze locking onto yours as he gave his eyebrow a slight raise.

“Wow,” he muttered then proceeded to chuckle. “Do you always make out with strangers before knowing their name? Or just make out with a stranger right when you meet them?” Another chuckle and a shake of the head.

You turned away, the embarrassment coursing through your veins again. You were thankful that sobriety was achieved, howbeit it partially had to be because of a make out session no less. Sometimes you hated when you drank, too out of it to be aware of your actions.

Damn Nicole.

He moved his hand forward and grasped your chin lightly to turn your face towards him. He was the third to make contact with your skin that night, still and all his touch didn’t burn like the boy that emerged from the dark, for it only left you unfeeling.

He hummed waiting for your answer and the intensity of his stare when you peered at him under your lashes made your knees buckle.

“Um…” you trailed off letting out an awkward and forced giggle. “N-no…not really,” you cleared your throat to get the proper words out. Confidence is what you had to remember. “No, but I—”

You were cut off by a shout of another male calling your name, whose figure was pushing through the throngs of people to reach you when you turned your head to take a gander.

“Ah,” he lets out an exasperated sigh. “There you are! I have been looking all over for you.” He huffs out a breath and gives you a pointed stare. “I told you not to go running off…” He then stops abruptly when he inspects the boy who was so blatantly close to you, too close by his standards at least.

His eyebrows furrowed and zoned in at the boy's hand that were placed firmly on your side and how your chest was pressed up close to his. The boy’s hand hadn’t moved from its previous position either, but when he saw the stare of your best friend he let it rest back to his sides and stepped backwards letting go of his hold on you completely.

“Jaehyun? What are you doing? No,” he shook his head and slightly glared at the presumably older boy. “What were you doing?”

Jaehyun, the boy you now knew the name of after a kiss, shyly laughed and brought his hand up to rub at his neck. You could see the tips of his ears beginning to turn pink as he refused to make eye contact.

While you knew he wouldn’t say what you both were truly doing before your friend’s arrival you didn’t want to leave him grasping at straws.

“He—” you started, then stopped at the same pointed look your best friend gave you and let out a huff at his behavior. He was always too overprotective of you.

“It wasn’t what it looked like Mark, I swear.” He put his hands up at the eyebrow raise Mark gave him as if he caught onto the lie Jaehyun was going to tell. His hands sank to his sides before he continued. “I saw her stumbling through the crowd some minutes ago and she was so clearly out of it that she almost tripped so obviously I didn’t want her to hurt herself. I just stopped her from nearly collapsing on the floor. That’s all.”

When he finished speaking, Mark's gaze was anything but less suspicious, yet his face slowly morphed into a subtle smile. “Always a gentleman huh, Jae?” He asked and let out a laugh in which the boy returned.

Jaehyun’s eyes peered over at you as he gave a lopsided grin and subtle wink. “Always.”

You were hoping Mark didn’t catch on, but with the way his hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist and he tugged you harshly forward, you were beginning to think he had.

“Okay well we better get going. It is a Thursday and we do have class tomorrow so I'll catch you later, Jae. Just tell the guys I had to drop someone off if they’re wondering where I am.”

Jaehyun nodded his head, his eyes still on your own before flashing to meet Mark's. “Will do and hey,” he jerked his head towards you as your eyes slightly furrowed, speculating what he wanted to say to you. “Try not to face plant the floor again, okay?”

You laughed at his remark as Mark's arm came to wrap around your waist tightly, trying to whisk you away towards the front door. You stumbled over how fast he was trying to get your further away from Jaehyun, but still made an effort to reply to the other boy.

You whipped your head around to see him one last time before he would be one figure amongst hundreds. “No promises!”

He shook his head at you and pivoted on his heel. The figure of a boy with a dimpled grin being lost in the sea of people. You hoped you could see him around another time and considering everything you knew you would.

“Try not to flirt with my friends will you?” Mark spoke out as he maneuvered you around the countless bodies occupying the house. He tugged your arm over his shoulder to give him more support while you walked. 

You rolled your eyes at him and pouted. “I was not,” you burped. “Flirting.”

He snickered, peering over at you instantly. “Sure you weren’t.” He looked over the heads of people as he was nearing the front door, stopping in his tracks when you were a few feet away from leaving the house. 

“Anyways where’s Nicole? You came with her right? That’s what you told me because you didn’t want me to come pick you up to bring you to the party.”

You nodded your head, letting out a small yawn. “Mhm, but I lost her not even ten minutes into the party. She went off with one of your frat boys I am sure, I don’t know which one obviously and just left me to mingle.”

He sighed. “We won’t be seeing her for quite some time then.”

“Nope,” you spoke, popping the ‘p.’ “Not a chance.”

“Guess I’ll have to give you a ride then, not that I wasn’t going to but I didn’t want to leave you both alone just in case.” He spoke glancing around to see if by chance Nicole was around, having returned from her little fun escapade.

“Agreed,” you said, yawning once more and you snuggled into the crook of Mark's neck, letting your eyes shut close. Partying for who knows how long and drinking who knows how much alcohol made you exhausted beyond belief. 

“Why have a frat party on Thursday? Especially when most of us have classes the next day. I don’t get it,” you mumbled into his neck as he fondly glanced down at you. There was something endearing about you in that moment, regardless of being at a frat party with sweaty bodies and stomach-churning smells. He leaned forward to kiss the top of your head before adjusting his grip on you so he could get you both out the front door and into his car without any mishaps.

“It is called a frat party for a reason, angel. No day of the week stops us, not even school days.”

You let out a loud groan. “Just great for us, huh?”

He let out a laugh. “Mhm because you’ll definitely have a hangover tomorrow and won’t want to get out of bed, but yay classes. You’re a freshman too and it’s your first week so mind you that you can’t skip even if you wanted to.”

“Screw you.” You murmur elevating your head slightly to properly glare at him. Instead of a threatening look it was something he found cute. But at that same moment when you upheave your head from Mark's shoulder you caught a glimpse of him. You were sure it was him, you couldn’t forget his face even if you tried. He was leaning on a tree in the front yard, once more in the shadows. His right foot was planted on the stump, and in his right hand was an unlit cigarette. His free hand reached into his front pocket and he pulled out a silver lighter that caught glimpses of the moonlight, shining so prominently. When he lit his cigarette he took a long drag and then exhaled, gray smoke encompassing him in a gloomy cloud. He wasn’t checking anywhere but straight ahead to the murkiness of the road, the only light emitting from the lights of the house behind you, that casted a perfect glow across his face, if only he stepped out from the shadows so you could see him in all his enchanting glory. You thought he would turn to eye you, people always did when they felt someone staring, but he didn’t and you forced your head away when Mark called your name.

“Angel?” He asked, his tone curious. “You okay? You blank spaced for a few seconds there.”

You peep up at him to see the concern in his eyes.

You shook your head to get rid of the image that plagued your mind: an image of a boy you thought you wouldn’t see afresh.

“Yeah,” you peered over Mark’s shoulder to see if he was still there, but what you saw was a bare and lonely tree with no boy leaning against it. You were left in disappointment along with confusion for he was there moments ago but left once you turned your head away.

Weird.

Another shake of the head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just sleepy, sorry.” You sheepishly smiled up at him.

He chuckled, giving a kiss to your forehead. “Understandable so let's get you home.”

You rested your head on his shoulder once more, your eyes filled with both drowsiness and longing for a boy you didn’t know. Hope was all you had and it would be a driving force for you to see the bewildering boy for more than a fleeting second.

If only you knew he had caught you staring when he slipped away.

“You’re sober right?” You questioned when you both arrived at the location in which Mark had parked his black Audi Suv Q8. How he had the money for such a gorgeous car was a shocker, especially considering he was in college no less. Mark always did surprise you in more ways than one.

His grip on you loosened so he could fumble through his jean pocket to find his keys. He gave you an exasperated look when his keys jingled in his hand, clinking against one another.

“Angel, seriously? Of course I'm sober. You know I don't really like to drink anyways, especially at parties.”

You giggled at him. “Sorry, I forgot but I just wanted to make sure! You know my safety can be at risk.”

He brought you over to the side of the passenger’s seat as he unlocked the car, opening up the door to push you inside. He unwrapped his arm from around your waist and tugged your arm away from his neck, so you could sit comfortably in the leather cushion. As he reached over to click the seatbelt into place, he became undeniably close to you, his breath fanning your face.

“Angel you’re always safe with me, “ he drew back to get a good glimpse of your face. “Never forget that.” And when you thought he would give you a friendly kiss on the head like he did various times before, he raised his right hand and gave a small flick to your forehead instead.

“Agreed?”

You lurched back, shocked that he flicked you and he laughed at your wide eyes.

“You flicked me!”

His eyes roll in your sight and he leans back to stand up properly. “Yeah I flicked you, had to get you more sober somehow.”

Then he closes the door shut as he makes his way to the driver’s seat leaving your response unheard.

You grumbled underneath your breath and crossed your arms over your chest. “That wasn’t very nice.”

You turned away from him when he got in the car and clicked his seatbelt into place. He stuck the keys in the ignition and a rumbling was heard thereafter of the engine starting.

He called your name, reaching his right arm over to place his hand on your thigh. He patted the bare skin to get your attention. “Angel come on.” He was glancing between you and the empty road in front of him. “Don’t be mean now.”

You shifted your body, turning forward, his hand dropping from your thigh. He now placed both hands on the wheel, still awaiting to see if you would talk to him.

You sighed before letting out a small giggle and stuck out your tongue when you knew he wasn’t paying attention. “I would never.”

He whipped his head suddenly to make contact with you, your laughter still echoing in the car. “Did you just—”

“Hey! Eyes on the road dumbass!” You hollered and reached over to grab hold of the wheel when he had begun to slightly swerve into the left lane from looking at you for too long. He jerked suddenly when he heard your exclamation as he took over the wheel and steered the car back into the right lane.

He let out a sigh of relief, looking straight ahead, glad no cars were near him when the mishap occurred. He released his right hand off the steering wheel, brushing it through his luscious locks of hair before going back to gripping the wheel, his knuckles turning white from how hard his hold was.

You leaned back in your seat, snuggling into the warm leather. Your tone was mocking as you spoke your next words, “You’re so smart, Markie.” You stifled a laugh when he gave a roll of his eyes.

You knew he would reach over to softly punch you, only if he wasn’t afraid of possibly crashing once more.

“Shut up.”

Your laughter rang out and would flood the increasing silence for moments to come along with the pop music that blared from the car’s speakers, Mark’s attempt of drowning out your titters until you finally reached your destination.

You only lived a few minutes away from campus since you didn’t live in the dorms like other fellow freshmen, lucky enough that your parents had been willing to pay for your own place once you had gotten into university.

Mark had pulled up in the parking lot, turning the keys in the ignition to shut off his car. He released a subtle yawn, leaning back in his seat and turned his head to peer over at you.

Your eyes locked with his own, the contact between you lasting for what felt like instances too long. You could see the tenderness in his gaze and a small smile broke out on his face, one you could barely make out due to the darkness of the wee hours of the morning. You were sure it was past two. 

“Come on,” he reached over the center console and brushed his knuckle against your check, as your own lips uplifted into a lazy beam. “Let me walk you inside.”

You hummed in response and he retracted his hand to clutch onto the handle of the car door in order to get out. You waited for him to come to the other side so he could help you out the car and to the door of your apartment, since you intelligibly could not do it on your own, the drowsiness taking over.

He opened the door and leaned over to unbuckle your seatbelt. Your eyelids feel heavy with sleep as you could barely keep them open, when his right arm wrapped around your waist to haul you up. You thought he would just help you to your door, allowing you to hold some of your own bodyweight, but he didn’t. When your feet were planted on the concrete, he latched one arm under your legs, the other still placed around your waist, permitting him to carry you bridal style. Your eyes fluttered open at the abrupt movements, but you just placed your head in the crook of his shoulder once more, finally allowing your eyes to close as he maneuvered your arm around his neck for further support.

He carried you all the way to your doorstep, knowing you had placed a spare key under the doormat when you first moved in.

He placed the key in the lock, turning it in place and pushed the door open with the front of his foot. The lights flickered on, detecting the motion and he trotted on to the end of the hall where the entrance of your bedroom was. He glanced at the stark neon numbers of your alarm clock, noting it was half past three in the morning. He shook his head and you moved in the process, letting out a small whine. He knew your class would be in a little more than four hours and he knew how much you would dread to get up in the morning.

He dropped you lightly on the bed, unraveling your limbs from around him. You turned in your bed, a groan leaving your lips.

He softly chuckled at you then proceeded to tug off your heels, deciding to leave you in the rest of your attire, even if a mini dress wasn’t ideal to sleep in. However, you would manage, especially considering you were too out of it to care.

He tugs the covers out from underneath you, evident of the sounds of protest emitting from your lips.

“I am just trying to tuck you in, you big baby,” he teases. “So stop moving.”

You weren’t fully passed out yet so you took heed to his words, stopping in your movements as you felt the snugness of the blankets engulf you. He made sure you were tucked in nicely before leaning over and placing a gentle peck on your forehead, in which he caught a glimpse of a smile.

“Good night, angel,” he whispered once he leaned back. He brought the covers up to your chin, giving your cheek a little tap with his index finger. “I love you.”

You hummed, tilting your head up to scrunch up your nose in the air as your eyes became closed crescent moons. “Love you too, Markie.” You let out a yawn and turned your head away to face the wall, snuggling deeper into your covers.

A smile was painted on his face as he pivoted on his heel to exit the room and ultimately your apartment in order to drive back to his frat house since he needed some sleep himself, considering you would rely on him in a few hours to make it out of bed for class.

He then stopped in his tracks before he was completely out the door. “I’ll come by in the morning…in a few hours and shoot you a text so you can get up on time. Class at 8am sharp, angel. Don’t forget.” 

His footsteps faded into the hall and you heard the front door slam shut moments after. While he didn’t think you were awake when he spoke his friendly reminder, you were, at least before you finally let sleep take you under. Yet, in those few hours, when Mark said he would swing by, he didn’t.

So there you were, jerking awake in raw sweat when you glanced at your alarm clock that indicated the time was ten past eight in the morning.

“Shit,” you said, bringing your hand up to rub at your temples to potentially soothe the pounding headache you had.

Trust Mark to let you down, though you knew there was a possible conflict. He never forgot things, there had to be a reason, but you wouldn’t let it worry you now when you were assuredly late for class.

You thought of skipping, but recalled the oh so fantastic reminder that you were still a freshman and your class attendance did matter, especially since it was the first week.

You scrambled to get out of bed, tripping over your two left feet as you made your way to the bathroom that was a few steps away from your room.

You rushed to brush your teeth and wash your face, the light makeup crusty beyond belief. You also made sure to pee, just like your usual morning routine. Then you rushed back into your room to swiftly change into a more comfortable outfit, something that wasn’t a short mini dress because no way were you going to be marching into lecture looking like you came straight from the club. You tugged on some black jeans and took the first hoodie you laid eyes on off the hanger before jumping into your socks and grabbing the first pair of Vans that lay by your shoe rack.

You reached for your cell phone on the bedside table along with your car keys, seeing the time was now 8:17am and assorted texts from your friends. The one that stood out most was Mark’s which was the most recent, but you had no time to check what he said, most likely noting he was apologizing for not coming over. You slipped your mobile into your back pocket and went down the hall. You made a fast stop to your kitchen, grabbing a cold bottle of water from the fridge and reaching for the bottle of Advil in the cupboard, that you would undoubtedly need to down in order to get rid of your hangover, the headache pounding feeling louder by the second. You skidded over to the couch in your living room and grabbed your backpack off the cushion, hoping it had all the materials you would need for your classes today. 

After shutting the door to your apartment, making sure it was locked, and skipping down the stairs by twos, you reached the parking garage of your complex, nearly running to get to your sleek grey Toyota Corolla. You kick started your car and drove down the highway, speeding to the point you were sure you would get pulled over if a cop so happened to pass by. Although fate was on your side today because you made it to campus in nearly record time, right on the dot at 8:22am. You would get marked late and definitely scolded some more if you stepped through the door at 8:30am for a lecture, but you could make it if you sprinted across campus, which was what you were going to do.

Yet, running sometimes doesn’t work for you because when you turned the corner of the hallway where your morning class was located, you bumped into someone. 

“Ow,” you muttered under your breath. Their chest was rock solid and the impact hurt. Their hands came to rest on your forearms to steady you.

“Oh fuck. Are you okay?” they asked gruffly, concern patent in their tone and for some reason their voice was vaguely recognizable. 

“Ah yeah, I’m…” You trailed off, just about ready to see who you ran into, but in the corner of your eye, right before you could, you saw him, a glimpse of a figure with black bucket hat and oversized paint splatter tee. It could have just been anyone, yet you were sure it was him because you would notice those arcane and void eyes anywhere. His eyes barely glanced at his surroundings as he was walking and he had the effect to unintentionally stop your train of thought. You knew it was him, the boy from the frat party, the one that stunned you into silence, the one that made your heart beat rapidly, the one that called you baby, the one—

“Hey!” the person in front of you exclaimed, slightly shaking your arms. “Are you sure you’re good? You were out of it there for a second, princess.”

You shook your head to get your mind unclouded, noting the boy had faded into oblivion, yet again. You never quite had the timing right. Sometimes fate was on your side, other times not so much.

You turn your head, locking eyes with the deep brown of the boy who you bumped into, the same boy who had saved you yesterday. Just perfect. 

He has a gentle smile on his face, one that made you feel cozy and his dimples were showcased so prominently. 

“Well, if it isn't my favorite clumsy girl. We meet again and soon at that. Do I have to keep you from falling all the time?”

You giggle nervously when he quirks his brow, “Well?”

You stutter, looking behind your shoulder then back at his face. “U-Um...well...I-I…”

His boisterous laugh rings. “I’m just messing, princess. If anything I so happen to enjoy our little run-ins. Gives me an excuse to talk to you and have you fall into my arms,” he states with no shame, the smile widening. 

“Of course you’d say that.”

“Can’t help it princess, that was some kiss last night,” his smile transforms to a small smirk.

You hit his chest and he chortles at your action, his head leaning back. You whisper in response, “Shut up, someone might hear you.”

“My bad,” he manages to say in between his amusement.

You shake your head, but then your eyes go wide with realization that you needed to be in class, as in right now. 

“Shit,” you cursed, the fear seeping in your bones. You never had been late before. 

His laughter stops and his eyebrows wrinkle together. “You all right?”

You let out another high strung laugh, stepping back from him and to the other side of his body. His eyes follow your every move. “Oh yeah sorry. I’m fine…I just have to go,” you spoke and then dashed forward, leaving him behind in the dust along with the memory of the same mysterious boy from before Jaehyun stole your attention away. 

You were glad you made it right on time to class, well as late as you were. You footslog through the door at 8:30am, with each pair of eyes in the classroom looking at you for the tiniest nanosecond. You were glad your professor hadn’t called you out, too invested in his lesson that he didn’t spare you a single glance even if you could feel his eyes burning into the back of your skull as you made your way to your seat in the back of the room. Class droned on for two hours and you felt every ounce of willpower draining from your veins. You were sure you would collapse any second now and taking a few tablets of Advil added to your disoriented state of sleepiness. You still had another two classes after this one before you would be able to take a break for lunch and even then you had one more class before you were done for the day.

You were hoping it went by fast, but with your hangover still quite literally hanging around, and your lack of focus, you knew you were fucked.

Fucked is what you were until lunch time came around. 

You were sure everyone could catch on to the fact that you were hung over because simply put you looked like shit. You had your hoodie on, but it barely accomplished concealing your very visible red-rimmed eyes and droopy lids. You were basically dragging yourself over to your designated spot where Nicole, Mark, and you always met up for your breaks. You were glad your schedules overlapped to where you would be able to catch up with them before the other had to dash off to another class. Mark was busier since he was a year above, but he still tried to organize his schedule around your own because his classes were from the early morning to night at times. While you and Nicole usually had classes up till the midafternoon, allowing the rest of your day and night to be free.

When you reached the expanse of the indoor cafeteria, you struggled to find either one of your friends, desperately searching for a similar shade of brown and black amongst countless others.

Then you saw Mark pushing his way through the surrounding students, coming over to you and you caught sight of Nicole sitting at the table tucked into the corner of the dining room, tapping away at her cell phone screen, her tray of food discarded.

There was a smirk plastered on his face when he reached you and slung his arm over your shoulder. He whispered in your ear rather obnoxiously, “You look like shit.”

You pushed at his side to get him off of you from his crude remark, but to no avail for he brought his arm tighter around you so he could hug you to his chest. His laughter rang loud amongst the noise of the cafeteria, but you were sure it would have stood out like a sore thumb.

You mumbled into his chest, your cheek resting on his sky blue button up shirt, inhaling the scent of citrus and detergent. “I hate you.”

His laughter got even louder if that was possible. “You don’t, but whatever you say angel.” He released his grip on you, unraveling himself from your body, though his arm was still around your shoulder as you closed your eyes momentarily, leaning on him.

“Now let’s get you some food, hm?”

You nodded your head as he steered you through the crowd to get to the table. When your eyes opened you still saw Nicole typing away furiously on her mobile, but then she heaved a loud and long sigh, nearly slamming the cellular device down on the table in the process.

You walked around the table to sit next to her, Mark’s arm dropping from your shoulder as he excused himself to go pick up some food for both you and him.

You wrapped your own arm around her as she leaned her body into yours.

“What’s up?” you asked, rubbing your thumb over her clothed skin.

She sighed yet again and shook her head. “Nothing…it’s just a lot happened at that party after I left you alone…” She paused, peering up at the ceiling then down at her twiddling hands in her lap. “A lot and I don’t know…I don’t know.”

You nodded your head in acknowledgement, you had some idea what she meant, most likely referring to the boy she wandered off with at the start of the party, but you would wait for her to tell you what happened and she would when she felt like sharing. There was no point to pressure her.

“I get it, don’t worry Nicki. We can talk about it when you’re ready.”

She turned her head to smile up at you and raised her hand to boop your nose. “Thanks babe. You’re the best.”

You lazily smiled back at her. “Yeah I know.”

She let out a giggle and you were glad you achieved your goal to make her happy in that moment, but it was for a moment too short because the sound of a tray hitting the table echoed in the cafeteria courtesy of Mark Lee himself.

“Ah shit, sorry, sorry,” he muttered, his mouth turned down into a frown. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything between you two.” He rubbed the back of his neck before gently placing the next tray onto the table to lessen the noise.

You laughed as Nicole’s weight lifted off of you.

“You’re fine, Markie, don’t worry.” You smiled up to him and patted the seat next to you. “So what did you get me for lunch?”

He maneuvered around the table to sit next to you, sliding the trays over once he sat down.

He gave you a boyish grin, his star-filled eyes sparkling. “Your favorite.”

You peered down at the tray in front of you, with two styrofoam containers of various sizes and some napkins he had so graciously placed at the sides.

You quirked an eyebrow when you looked over at him, wondering what he meant, considering you loved most food and it was always hard to pick one favorite.

You opened the larger container to a sandwich cut perfectly into two triangles, the distinct turkey slices and cheddar cheese sticking out.

“You didn’t…”

His beam grew. “Yup! A turkey, apple, and cheddar sandwich, baby! I know you’ve been craving one too and since hangovers also suck ass it is perfect for lunch.”

He bumped his shoulder with yours. “With a side of fries of course.”

You giggled and bumped his shoulder right back, making sure to give his hand a squeeze that rested on his thigh.

“Thank you, Markie. You always do take care of me.”

He squeezed your hand right back before you let go to begin eating your food.

“Always.”

“Aw you guys are always so cute…I’m jealous,” a voice broke out, interrupting the intimate moment between you and Mark. 

Nicole had a pout on her face when you turned to look at her, making the both of you laugh.

“Laughing at my misfortune, sweet,” she mumbled with a roll of her eyes, but you could clearly see her trying to hold back a smile.

“Shut up, Nicki. You just wish you had a relationship like us,” Mark exclaimed with a smirk, throwing his arm around your shoulder, tugging you close to him amidst you trying to take a bite out of your sandwich.

You huffed and shook your shoulders to get the weight of his arm off of you in order to eat before your lunch break was over. “Trying to eat, mate.”

Nicole let out a loud, boisterous laugh as she stood up from the table, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. Her boots clicked against the tile as she took small steps to where the two of you sat. She patted Mark’s head, slightly ruffling his locks of black hair, in which he opposed and kissed the crown of your head, her flowery scent lingering when she stepped back.

“As much as I would love to continue this, my loves, I have to get to my next class early. I have to ask the professor some questions about an upcoming assignment.” She tugged on the straps of her backpack to hitch them higher, the sadness in her eyes transparent at her departure when her eyes glimpsed between you and Mark.

“Aw man,” you pouted. “See you later though! Make sure to text me too!”

She gave you a sly wink. “For sure!” She then smirked over at Mark. “Don’t worry I won’t forget to text you either.”

He gave a roll of his eyes but nodded his head nonetheless. “I am honored. Now go!”

“Okay, okay! I am going so bye bye loves.” She gave a little wave and pivoted on her heels, off towards her next class, but stopped in her tracks after a number of steps.

She moved her head to the right in order to glance at Mark from the corner of her eye. “Oh and Mark? Make sure our little party girl makes it to class in one piece.”

She whipped her head forward and continued walking, not sparing an ounce of extra time to see either one of your reactions. Although Mark besides you was trying his best to contain his laughter.

You punched his shoulder and pushed him thereafter, his body swaying right then left, his laughter ever increasing with no complaints of pain from your bold actions.

“You guys are so annoying,” you mustered, the aggressive sound of your chewing echoing in your ears and his own.

He patted your head, maneuvering his hands over to open his containers of food.

He shrugged his shoulders, picking up his fork to twirl the noodles around before stuffing his face with food. He chewed slowly contrary to your prior actions. He swallowed then spoke, “Yeah, but you still love us.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up a fry and pointing it at him. “Don’t give yourself too much credit there, bud.”

You took a bite when he gave you an exasperated look. “Whatever you say, angel, but you and I both know the truth.”

You ignored him and continued eating, food occupying your mind rather than the bullshit Mark pulled on you, though he did in fact call your bluff. You very much loved him and Nicole, no matter how much you joked about not loving them.

Amidst the quietness that surrounded you and Mark, the only sound of you both chewing every so often, until your ears perked up at a conversation from the tables near you, whispers of remarks. 

“They’re here.”

“Who?”

“The frat boys from NCT, who else? Legends on campus. Heartbreakers of the century. Know how to throw a good party. They are pretty smart too and literally all of them are handsome, it’s insane. A whole package if you ask me. Damn good genes.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the statements, contemplating how accurate they could be and if they really held the very weight conveyed.

Then a light bulb went off in your head—the boys from the NCT frat house, the very boys who threw the outrageous party you attended yesterday. They were here in the cafeteria and everyone was making a big ruckus out of their arrival. While they surely had a name for themselves, they couldn’t be that legendary or that gorgeous, but oh how you were so very wrong.

The diverse boys that walked into the cafeteria, their power exuding from their auras, instances after your claims, were so striking it left you breathless and in awe. 

What the fuck was up with all these college boys being so pretty? 

College was a whole different beast from high school, if the boys were any indication.

You were speculating the boys that stode in didn’t whole frat house, since more often than none frats had a lot of members and even more so that they would all be in different years with different classes throughout the day, not being lucky enough to have an identical period of break. Although, you knew it was possible if the right strings were pulled, but you just believed they weren’t capable of such doings for an odd reason you couldn’t point out. Regardless, the members that strode in surely spoke for the rest of them, indeed the good genes.

To your amazement they didn’t stop to grab food like other students would have if they entered the cafeteria, for the sole purpose of food and food alone. Instead they were on the search for someone, their eyes wandering over the heads of the entire student body that were captivated at their presence. They paid no mind to the apparent stares, set on who they were looking for, even disregarding the flirty winks or sultry gazes a number of girls were sending them.  

Surprising you, one of them managed to send a wink right back when he strided by, a boy with relatively long brown hair with blonde highlights and fierce eyes who looked like he came straight out of a Japanese anime.

You rolled your eyes at the boy’s actions and went back to eating the rest of your fries, having already finished your sandwich, as there was no reason for you to pay attention to them in the slightest. Your meal held more importance. Not to mention, you knew they wouldn't head your way, noting that they weren’t looking for you, rather someone else, a girl or a fellow frat boy if another was in the room.

Then you paused suddenly before you took the final bite out of your french fry. You were hit with an abrupt realization. Mark was in a frat—their frat and they could in fact be looking for him.

Your suspicions were confirmed when a very tall and lean boy, with tousled black hair pushed to the side, presumably leading the other boys that trailed behind him, began to head in the direction of where you sat with Mark, his eyes lighting up as he became closer.

Well shit.

Mark doesn’t look up, too immersed in savoring his meal and glancing at his electronic device from time to time that rested on the table.

You on the other hand, do look up, and your eyes are wide in fear the nearer the frat boys get to the table. You weren’t scared of them, no, you were scared of what could possibly happen once they stopped in front of the both of you.

The tall boy is inches away and when you lock eyes with him, all he does is give you a sly smirk.

Not good at all.

You harshly nudge your shoulder with Mark to capture his attention and he turns to you right after, placing his fork down to give you an annoyed look.

You don’t mutter a word, but rather jerk your head forward in the direction of where all the frat boys stood in their glory. Some with smirks plastered on their faces, soft smiles, or no countenance at all. You could make the distinction between the ones you should ignore and befriend. Not that it should matter, Mark wouldn’t allow it all because of what he dubbed his “best friend duty,” which wasn’t anywhere near practical.

Mark’s eyebrows wrinkle and his lips pucker when he moves his head up to see what—or who you were trying to inform him of.

“Oh,” he lets out, barely audible to anyone that wasn’t close to him.

His facial features suddenly relax and the biggest grin slips onto his face. “Hey guys, what’s up?” He questions energetically, picking up the stray napkin to wipe his fingers clean and pocketing his cell after as he awaits a response.

The tall boy moves first, grabbing an empty chair and taking a seat, flicking his hand up in the air to serve as a signal for the other boys, the meaning it held to you, unknown. They disperse in seconds, swiftly walking to the exit of the cafeteria and only one boy, the one that winked at the girl earlier, stays, him too grabbing the chair next to the tall boy in order to sit down.

The tall boy’s smile is too sweet, too kind, and too secretive as he glances between you and Mark when he answers. “Just came to tell you that we set the date for the next NCT frat party.” He leans back in his seat with his arms crossed.

Mark snickers, peering at you in his peripheral vision. You were still shaken at their arrival, but put up a composed front, placing your hands under your thighs and trying to stop the shaking of your right leg. Mark reached his left hand out and put it on the top of your thigh, slightly giving the clothed skin a squeeze, an act of reassurance.

“And this news couldn’t wait till I got back home?”

The grin on the tall boy's face morphs into a thin line, his eyes becoming serious, no longer filled with mirth that was present before. His voice is stern when he speaks. “No, it couldn’t.” He unravels his arms, placing his forearms on the table while he leans his body forward with his piercing gaze directed at Mark. “It couldn’t, especially when you missed our chapter for the week.”  His gaze got icier if it was even possible. “I am sure you know how important they are.”

Mark gulps, moving his eyes away to look down at the table. He doesn’t respond, opting for unnerving silence, with regards to the chatter of the students around that gives you goosebumps all over.

The unnamed boy that was quiet throughout the duration of the talk between the tall boy and Mark lets out an unexpected guffaw that fills the void. He was slouching in his chair, picking at his nails, but straightens his posture to clap a hand on Mark’s shoulder over the table. He gives Mark a small push, his loud voice echoing. “Relax there Markie boy.” He stifles his laughter at the way Mark’s eyes widen and his nose scrunches at the nickname. He leans back, pulling an object out of his back pocket of his black ripped skinny jeans—a lighter and he twiddles with it between his fingers.

The taller boy too chuckles loudly, leaning back, his arms crossed once more. “Exactly. No need to look so scared Mark. I was joking.” A teasing grin rests upon his lips, his eyes twinkling in contrast to the dullness that once made him look empty. He mutters under his breath, “Partially at least.”

The tall boy puffs out a breath of air in-between his lips, looking over at his companion who turns his head. He smirks first, the laughter bubbling up while the latter joins in with the inside joke, shaking his head, disregarding how Mark and you were still in their vicinity.

They both turn their heads forward, the chuckles dying down. Your eyebrows are furrowed, confusion unmistakable in your eyes and Mark’s expression remains neutral, with a hint of annoyance in his starless eyes.

An easy smile rests on the taller boy’s face when he clears his throat to speak. “Anyways as I was saying, another frat party. It will be in two weeks, on a Friday like we usually do.” He pauses then reaches over to pick up a stray fry off your tray, chewing slowly to savor the taste before he continues. His eyes glinted mischief when they flitted over to look at you for a split second. You were going to protest at him stealing your food, but decided against it, too worried about the outcome, even if you knew the only thing he would do was tease you. That is how most frat boys worked anyways and he wouldn’t be any different, if his actions weren’t enough of an indication. “I will let you know the exact details, but invite whoever you want as we get closer to the date. You know the drill for these…yada yada.” He flicks his hand in the air. “But keep in mind we want it more exclusive this time. There were way too many people for our back to school party yesterday. Way too many.” He rolls his eyes. “We get it, we are the fraternity, but people still show up uninvited and fuck up our house with their shitfaced actions.”

Mark hums in agreement, nodding his head. “Okay yeah got it.”

He sternly replies, “Good, we had enough of seeing way too much vomit.” He visibly shudders and your face contorts to a disgusted expression. You understood where they were coming from and you knew you didn’t want your own house to be filled with a repellent smell.

The discussion ceased after his statement and you thought that was it, that he was done with what he came to the cafeteria for, which was to audibly inform Mark about some frat business. Yet you were in the wrong, because he didn’t get out of his seat and stand up to leave like you believed him to do, no, he stayed rooted to his spot and so did his friend.

He suddenly addresses you, the cheekiness in his gaze and tone, displeasing you. He was hot, yes, but you had enough with the absentminded flirting for one night, even if it was hours later.

Alcohol leaving your system sure did marvels.

He leans forward one more, his head tilted to the side while he quirks up a brow to look you dead in the eyes. “Will you be there, gorgeous?”

You had to stop yourself from giving an eye roll when he asked you the question and his implication of a compliment. You gave him a tight lipped smile, your eyes refusing to meet his own as you opted to look at his forehead discreetly.

You were going to respond until Mark beat you to an answer, the firmness crystal clear in his tone.

“Don’t flirt with her, Johnny,” he warned, directing another annoyed gaze at the tall boy who you now had a name to attach to his face.

Johnny leans back, throwing his arm over the occupied chair to his left and snickers. “Okay lover boy.”

Mark groans, just about as done as you were with Johnny’s ever prominent teasing. He never seemed to stop and you were curious as to how Mark could keep up with him. He did spend most of his time with the boys in his frat and Johnny was one of many who could surely have his fair share of annoying moments.

“Also,” Johnny pipes up, his eyes trailing over at the girl that passes by him, before he diverts his attention to the two of you. “Taeyong is looking for you.”

Mark’s eyebrows come together in confusion and your interest is spiked at the mention of an unknown person. Something stirs within you, an emotion of familiarity as if you had ever met someone with the same name, when you were sure you hadn’t. You couldn’t quite put a finger on it as if they were the answer to a long awaited question.

“Taeyong? Why?”

Johnny lets his arm drop from around the chair and shrugs his shoulders, picking at a loose strand on his washed out ripped jeans. “I don’t know, something about a project? I can’t remember all the details.”

“Oh shit,” Mark swears under his breath as everyone looks over at him, including you. “Right.” He shakes his head, mumbling words to himself as his actions draw attention. He could feel the eyes on him and when he looked up, he looked like a deer caught in headlights. He rubs his hand on the back of his neck in a bashful manner and sheepishly smiles. “Sorry.”

Johnny chuckles. “Anyways Yuta and I need to get going.” He bumps his shoulder with Yuta to capture his attention. You now had another name to a face and you knew you would surely remember them both, it was hard to forget any frat boy. Johnny and Yuta both stand up, the latter putting the lighter in his back pocket as their bodies are turned to leave.

“I’ll see you at the house later,” Johnny states, nodding his head at Mark who returns the gesture. His eyes then flit to look down at you, an easy beam resting on his face. “As for you, I’ll catch you around, gorgeous.” He winks at you then turns, sauntering away to the exit of the cafeteria with Yuta sluggishly trailing behind him. Amidst his departure he raises a hand up and yells, “Bye Markie boy.” Both his and Johnny’s laughter echo in the hall until it fades out into nothingness.

Mark heaves a sigh, “Sometimes I can’t stand them.” He regards you with a displeased look and you have to hold back your giggles from his predicament.

“Of course you would want to laugh right, but angel I have to get going,” Mark exclaims, sadness in his gaze. “I’d hate to leave you here on your own, but understand I totally forgot about it. I really have to go, I can’t hold this...project back forever.”

You beam warmly at him, reaching over to pat his hand and give it a squeeze. “It’s fine Markie, don’t worry about it. Go.” You push his shoulder to get him on the move, allowing him to let out a laugh.

He scrambles to collect his trash onto the tray and swings the strap of his backpack over his shoulder, double checking that his cell phone is in his back pocket. Once he stands up and pushes his chair in with his hip, he leans down to give a kiss on the top of your head.

“Okay, bye angel. I’ll see you soon.” He grins and you nod your head at him, muttering your own, “Okay.”

He then quickly treads away, evaporating into the mess of students. Gone in a second.

He truly was in a rush and you couldn’t help but ponder why that was. The project must have been of uttermost importance for him to dash out so speedily. You wondered if there was something more, or maybe you were thinking too much into things, especially regarding a boy who wore his heart on his sleeve ever since you met him. Even so you were curious about the one he was meeting.

Who the hell was Taeyong?

You sigh. There was no room for pondering when it surely didn’t matter and sitting at the now deserted table, you realized you were left alone like you were at the very start.

Left in solitude and utter loneliness, but you soon wouldn’t be for time could tell.

Time worked faster than you realized, as you spent the next two weeks anxious and nervous beyond belief, for a party you knew could potentially give you the responses you so desperately sought.

In the deepest part of your soul you hoped you would see him there, the boy that captivated you without even trying. You needed to figure who he really was and who he could be. You couldn’t be disappointed and when Friday rolls around after long anticipation, you would find out if fate was on your side.

Leading up to the party, your last two weeks were mostly productive to say the least. In between classes, coursework, and your small part time job at a nearby diner along with making time to hang out with your best friends, everything went by in a blur.

Before you knew it, Nicole had come knocking on your door hours before the party, intent on making you look as stunning as you always did, while you would return the favor.

She seemed to have gotten over her so-called slump from the week prior, yet she still didn’t share the cause of her being upset or out of it, though you did have a hunch it still had to do with the boy she escaped with, someone who most likely had captured her heart when she thought no one could ever. If they were to see each other anew you desired that everything would be satisfactory, that everything would go well for Nicole more than anything, because while she put up a tough front, she was more fragile on the inside than what anyone ever gave her credit for.

Seems like fate would have to give her a chance too.

Driving to the frat house, earlier than fashionably late all due to not wanting to kill your feet once again, nerves got to you. Nicole even had to call you out for it, like she seemed to always do when she knew you weren’t calm. She kept you in check.

She even held your arm as you were making your way up to the front door, the recollection from that night hitting you like a splash of cold water in the face during a hot day.

“You good?” She questioned once she let you sit down on the black stool by the kitchen counter, the same place you were the last time you visited the house.

“Mhm, I’m good.” You rested your arms on the cool surface and put your head down, a groan escaping your lips.

She poked your shoulder. “Sure you are babe. What’s up?” She pulled the empty stool out next to you to sit down, awaiting a response.

You didn’t haul your head up, opting to mumble the words that she wouldn’t be able to make out. “Nothing, but everything.” You paused and hoisted your head up, choosing not to antagonize her. She peered at you with expectant eyes that were still tender, one eyebrow lifted in waiting. You rested your head on your knuckles, looking down at the counter instead of into her eyes. You spoke so quietly, she had to lean in closer to make out your words with the loud sounds that surrounded you both.

“It’s just I saw this boy here the other night and I was maybe…I don’t know…hoping—”

She cut you off. “Hoping to see him again?”

You nodded your head, lifting your eyes up. “Yeah, just maybe.”

She sighed loudly. “Listen love, boys in college they’re…” She paused, puffing out air in between her nude colored lips. “They are exactly like the ones we met during high school. They aren’t all too different because they aren’t innocent, caring, or mature in the slightest. No, they aren’t no matter how much their façade proves otherwise. They hold more secrets then necessary and those are the ones that keep them alive. They get a thrill out of being mysterious, untouchable, since they know how much they are desired, especially these frat boys.”

She taps a finger above your heart. “So you have to be careful, love. You have to shield your heart even if you want to open it up to the first guy that enchants you. Don’t do it. Resist because they bring more trouble than what you bargained for. Not everyone is what, who, they seem and I am saying this as a warning, a reminder for you to heed to. I don’t want to see you hurt so please be careful.”

She grasps your empty hand that rests on your thigh, giving you a small squeeze. Her eyes are somber and you can see the twinge of hurt that lingers when you make contact with her. The tone she had was too relatable for her not to be speaking out of her own experiences. Something must have happened and not for the better like you wished.

You drop your hand from holding the weight of your head and put it on top of hers. “Nicki…what happened?”

You tilt your head when she looks away.

“I guess I am not as tough as I seem,” she murmurs.

You shake your enclosed hands to make her turn back. “Hey,” you say when her broken eyes look at you. “You are the strongest person I know and just because you weren’t immune to someone else’s charms doesn’t belittle that. Nicki we all make mistakes and we all hurt at one time or another so it’s okay. You have to be aware that it is okay to be human.”

She nods her head, giving you a light smile. “I suppose you’re right. I am not weak for feeling. I am strong for it.”

“Damn right you are. You’re a bad bitch, remember?”

She chuckles loud and direct, shaking her head at your words. “Indeed I am. We are bad bitches together.”

She slips her hand out from where she was holding yours and raises her pinky.

“Forever?”

You latch your pinky around her own, smiling at her so bright, that she can’t help but let her grin widen. Her eyes now contain a hint of happiness when you shake your pinkies. “Forever.”

You both sit there, smiling at each other, the youthfulness in your gazes and you feel impenetrable. The world could build you up and break you down, but you’d still be left standing no matter how much you endured. After all, you both were bad bitches together, forever.

“Okay,” Nicole laughs, unlatching her pinky from yours. “I think that is enough sappiness for tonight. I mean we came to party right?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Great!” She yells, the music from the next room escalating in sound. “Let me get us some drinks.” She stands up, the creak of her bar stool vibrating. “You’ll be okay on your own while I go to the bar right?”

You nod your head, giving her a smile of reassurance. “Yes I’ll be fine, just don’t be gone too long.”

“I won’t! Be right back!” Then she vanishes from sight, being lost in the scatters of students.

Your knee moves up and down, the nerves coursing through your body. You didn’t want to worry her that you wouldn’t necessarily be okay on your own. You were scared of encountering Jeno, Jaehyun or the other two frat boys that you had met. The awkwardness that would surely ensure, you weren’t ready to face. You could only rely on Nicole to be fast when getting the drinks so you wouldn’t be left alone, unguarded for too long. Yet you knew she always did speak words of truth.

You suppose you were partially lucky and partially not for a few minutes went by and Nicole hadn’t returned, but on the other hand no one dared to look in your direction or spark up a conversation for some peculiar reason. You were left untouched contrary to how the other night went.

In your wait nothing of the sort happened, and you were bored, just glancing around the room and at the bright lit screen of your mobile. You just wanted to be buzzed so you could go dance and forge the thoughts that lingered in your mind. Somber when dancing never was a good fit, more so at a party.

But then you caught sight of someone who had faded out of your mind once you stepped foot into the house. It had to be him…it had to be and your suspicions were confirmed as he became closer to you. The same pitch black hair and hooded eyes that you knew by now after seeing him in passing a variety of times.

He was wearing a short sleeve silk button up shirt adorned with a circular pattern of purple, white, and green that had few top buttons undone to allow his white, creamy skin to be seen. He had paired it with black cargo pants, two dangling silver wallet chains looped to the belt and low cut, white Converse that appeared to be customized in the dim light. The silver necklace and bracelet sparkled when he moved, once more his presence stunned you.

You couldn’t let this moment go unscathed because you had to know something about him, anything rather than admiring from afar. The wants of your heart rather than mind served as a driving force once you stood up from your seat and followed after him before he disappeared like the many times before. His bright colored shirt served as an indicator in the crowd, his steps taken leisurely while yours were taken in a rush to ensure you didn’t lose him. You didn’t know where he was headed, hands tucked into his front pockets as if he didn’t want to be there, but you soon did. He took a sharp right heading in route to one of the side doors in the house, ready to exit to the back.

It wasn’t supposed to be chilly that night, but when you stepped into the backyard, chills erupted on your skin and you rubbed your arms to stop yourself from shivering.

You had never seen the backyard before, only ever been secluded to the first floor of the house, yet it was as equally beautiful as the rest of it. There was an expanse of a pool, leveled from the ground of where you stood that was illuminating with stark blue, casting glows among the rest of the yard with the candles that were placed at the sides and the other bright LED lights. You proceeded out to where the patio area was, a few chairs scattered about and a large glass table in the middle. There was another seating area to your left with high bar stools and marble counters lined along the edges leading up to a small outside kitchen with a television screen plastered on the tile. To your right was a fire pit and a few lawn chairs surrounded the area. In front of you, before one would take the stairs up to the pool, was an empty tiled area with a basketball hoop pushed to the side, a place you supposed they interchanged to fit their activities depending on the day.

Besides being mind-blown at the beauty, you were more shocked that no one was outside. It was unnervingly silent give or take the tweets of the birds and hoots of the owls along with the inside pounding of the music, which faded from penetrating through the walls completely.

“You aren’t supposed to be out here, you know.” He spoke in his light and sweet, slightly raspy voice, that directly contrasted his outside demeanor.

You didn’t know how he had sensed someone followed him outside and you probably knew you weren’t all too discreet, but you took a small group of steps to reach him, where his back still remained in your vision. You were embarrassed that he found out so quickly, though you still had to have some ounce of dignity, some ounce of unwavering confidence.

You gulped before speaking, making sure your next words were the right ones. “How do you know I’m not supposed to be?”

He turned his head to look over his shoulder at you, his gaze piercing through your soul. He hitched up a perfectly arched brow, “You aren’t a frat boy are you?”

You were taken aback and shook your head rapidly, stuttering out a response. “N-No…”

He moved his head forward, disregarding you and snickered. “Didn’t think so. The top levels and the backyard are off limits unless you’re part of the frat.”

That made sense as to why no one was out here, but why didn’t they lock the doors? Did they trust no one would come out here? Even when drunk? 

The functions of the NCT frat house dazed you, never truly knowing how everything worked.

You took more careful steps until you reached him, your shoulder a few inches away from his own, the both of you looking forward. You briefly glanced at him, at the side of his face when you asked your next question. “Then why are you out here?”

He chuckles lowly and moves slightly, his gaze is one that mocks, but there was some mirth that twinkled.

You look down at the floor in recognition. “O-Oh…”

He was part of the frat, of course he was. Another gorgeous boy amongst others. He would be permitted outside and at all parties without any invitation. He could dissipate and reappear as he pleased, although it still threw you off. He didn’t truly seem like the person to commit to something, being all too free-spirited and not open to take orders. However, he still was very much in frat and you meditated on what type of position he held, if he had more authority than what he was letting on.

He spins on his heels, refusing to indulge further in a conversation. His hands are still placed in his front pocket as he strides by, not bearing to glimpse at you in his departure. “Next time don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms.”

You stand unmoving, considering his words and the underlying meaning, maybe there would be a next time, although the sensibility comes back once you take note that he is leaving once more. 

“Wait!” You yell, partially taking large strides to catch up to him in your pumps as he stands still, indeed waiting for you. You reach him, deciding against touching his shoulder for fear of the untold. “What’s your name?”

You had to know the name of the handsome boy to settle some part of your heart.

He looks at you this time, really looks at you, as your gazes are interlocked. “You’ll have to earn it, sweetheart.” He reaches his hand out to touch your chin, his soft touch making your eyelids flutter close. He slightly jerks you forward, your eyes opening as his breath fans over your lips. “Not many have the privilege of having my name come out their mouth.” He drops his hand, stepping back to truly depart.

You stay rooted to your spot. He called you another nickname, the butterflies fluttering in your chest at the sound of it escaping his lips. He truly did have an unwanted effect no matter how much you could refuse to acknowledge it.

Before his hand touches the silver handle of the door to go back inside, you call out to him once more.

“Will I at least see you around?” You were hopeful that you would and could.

“Who knows? You’ll just have to wait and see.” He replies ominously and then he grabs the handle, turning it downward to open the door while he steps inside. The door closes on his bright figure as you are left in the backyard by yourself, left with more hope than you had in a long time.

Yes, he was imitating and impersonal , even so he made you coxy all over. You wanted to see him again, you wanted something more. You yearned for it, and standing there observing the closed door, for nothing at all, you had to figure how you could achieve it, that is until you recalled who you were waiting for previously until he had swept your attention away—Nicole.

She had probably already arrived back at the kitchen, losing her head over where you ran off to without any warning. She did have a big imagination, thinking of the worse, nevertheless she could be practical as well, though in this situation at a party, with strange people, the latter wouldn’t sit quite right.

You rushed forward, opening the door with the bang and got lost in the bodies around you. You pushed through with hurried steps, not bothering to apologize as they would either be too drunk to realize or didn’t care after being crushed up against others.

You were finally able to reach the kitchen after much effort, staggering your way forward at the sight of Nicole’s gold satin A-line dress.

She saw you first and the relief that came across her face made you feel guilty for going off on your own.

“Oh thank goodness,” she said, wrapping her hands around your body in order to give you a hug. You wrapped your own hands around her waist to return the gesture. She sighed and let her hands drop, holding you at arm’s length when she moved back.

“I didn’t mean to worry you. I hope I wasn’t gone too long,” you uttered, twiddling with your fingers.

She pats your arm. “I know you didn’t, still wouldn’t stop me. You were only gone for a few minutes when I got back, which isn’t all too bad.”

You hummed, glad everything worked out, that is until she asked the dreaded question.

“Where were you though?” She added with a pointed gaze, her worry and frustration having already faded, only curiosity lingered. “You know you aren’t supposed to go running off anyways.”

“Ah sorry, sorry. I thought I saw Mark, but when I went after him…well it wasn’t Mark.” You let out a nervous giggle, stepping away to sit down on the chair while she remained standing.

Her eyes zoned in on your face before she gave you a once over to see if anything had changed with your appearance. “Mhm…okay. I reckon that makes sense.”

She was suspicious, yet she didn’t push and you didn’t know what you would have done if she had.

If only she would have known who you were with, someone she indirectly warned against and someone you would see many more times thereafter against your control or hers.

You didn’t think it would be so soon when you saw him again, a few days after the party.

You spotted him on your way to class right after your lunch break. He was sporting a baby blue hoodie with words you couldn’t make out scribbled across the chest, light washed ripped skinny jeans, a blue cap with the words Supreme etched out in white on a red background, and Balenciaga black and white speed sneakers. He had a black leather backpack swung over one shoulder and airpods in his ears.

You had to do a double take when you saw him before you because his outfit was contrary to his natural esoteric aura. You didn’t think he could look so innocent and pure in baby blue.

You didn’t think twice before you jogged forward to meet him, surely not debating possible consequences right then and there.

“Um…hey,” you voiced as you stood side by side with him, walking to wherever he was headed to, when you knew it was the exact opposite of where you were meant to go, however it didn’t matter. They always say the heart wants what it wants.

He took his right airpod out, putting it in the case that dangled from his belt loop. “Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”

Your eyes widened, you didn’t expect him to be so straightforward and shameless. You were still touched that he remembered you, even if his tone seemed the opposite of welcoming.

“Uh…um…I…” you started, not sure what to say or even ask. You didn’t expect to get this far.

He abruptly stopped, turning his whole body to face you. “Well?” He fixes his hat, hoisting it up slightly to peer at you for a split second, his eyes covered by his jet back, long strands of hair, making it difficult to make direct eye contact. “Get on with it.”

You shook your head, rocking back and forth on the heels of your sneakers. “Sorry, I just wanted to ask if you um…” You paused, peeking at him then at the gray concrete, racking your brain for something, anything. “Wanted to get coffee sometime?”

Some instances passed, no word mentioned by him and you knew that the silence meant you weren’t going to be so lucky. He rejected you—your offer and you had to live with that, your not so discreet attempt at scoring a date.

Until he thunderstrucks you.

He tilts his head and shrugs his shoulders, answering with a firm, “Sure.”

You were positive you hadn’t heard him right. There was no way he agreed to get coffee. You knew you had set yourself for rejection, nonetheless he proved you wrong. Somewhere deep down maybe you had a chance.

“Oh…um…okay then. Should I get your number then?” You couldn’t see his eyes, despite that you knew the intensity they held, some sort of judgment at your boldness. You stuttered, “Y-You know s-o we can s-set a t-time and p-place.”

He shook his head, taking his airpod out of the case and placing it in his ear again. He leaned forward, his face inches away from yours and whispered in your ear, “No, you have to earn that too, sweetheart.”

Your eyes flutter at the proximity and his special nickname that he now began to use. You worry that he can hear the loud pounding of your heart from how near he was.

He backs away and strides forward, not before stating an answer to your unsaid question. “Meet me at the café on Second Street and Thorn at 2:30pm sharp, this Friday. It’s the only chance you get, sweetheart so take it or leave it.”

Then he’s off, leaving you to comprehend what fully happened in a few short minutes. He agreed to coffee and set a date so rapidly, the thought of not having his number leaving your mind. You were finally one step closer to discovering who he truly was and it took a small leap, one he returned in his own way.

You were giddy when you spun in the other direction to get to your last class for the day, nearly skipping on your way there and your happiness would continue till the end of the week, when the desirable day arrived.

In fact, Mark and Nicole noticed your more than cheerful mood, glad that not everything in your life wasn’t as shitty as they perceived it to be because college was more often than none dreadful at times with constant work, some of which were surely questionable. Yet they didn’t complain because your happiness meant theirs too, even if they didn’t know the cause and you hoped you could keep it that way. You weren’t prepared to see the outcomes if they found out it was a he, Mark’s very own frat brother that was to blame for the shift in your mood.

Friday came around in record’s time and when you exited your third class for the day, on your way to the designated café during your lunch break, you weren’t all that tense. Sure, you pondered on what would happen and if he would leave you hanging as you strolled through the doors, nonetheless you could be with him and it was all that mattered.

He didn’t set you up for devastation once the bell above the café doors rung because as soon as you got through the entrance you saw him huddled up at the table in the corner of the room. His head was down as he was scrolling through his cell phone absentmindedly, his bright red high top Converse contrasting the black and white tiled floor. He had on a classic black leather jacket that was thrown over a red, blue, and white checkered flannel with a white GUESS t-shirt underneath, which wasn’t tucked into his loose blue jeans.

A style he pulled off so effortlessly.

He peered up when you were heading his way and pocketed his cell phone in his jeans.

“Hey,” you commented, sliding into the wooden chair opposite of him.

He nodded his head, not selecting to give a verbal response of greeting. “I assume you haven’t eaten lunch yet. We can get you something to eat and a coffee too if you want. Though I am not sure if you want to drink that in the middle of the day.”

“Um…yeah, sure. It’s my lunch break right now so I haven’t eaten anything.”

“Good,” he stated and pushed his chair back to stand up, not waiting for you as he strolled to the front counter. He was quick on his feet and seemed to be one to leave people in the dust.

His eyes were flitting left and right to inspect the menu. He didn’t spare you a regard when you were shoulder to shoulder.

“What do you want?”

You squinted at the menu looking at the drinks section and at the food they offered. They had a wide selection, very beneficial for a café and your hunger that needed to be sufficed.

“Uh…a small iced coffee with a caramel swirl and almond milk. Light on the ice and a California club croissant sandwich, no tomatoes please,” you recite to the cashier when they appeared after he asked the question. They nodded their head, typing your order into the screen, then their eyes peered expectedly at the boy next to you.

“A medium iced golden ginger and club sandwich.”

“Okay!” The cashier enthusiastically noted, their fingers typing away. “Your total will come out to $21.77. Cash or credit?”

You scrabbled to take your cell phone out your back pocket, seeing the opportunity to pay first, since you technically invited him out, he only accepted your invitation.

Just when you were able to raise your device to the scanner, he placed his platinum credit card on the counter, sliding it over to the cashier.

“I’ll pay,” he announced as the cashier swiped his card and handed it back to him moments after. You nodded your head slowly, putting your phone back in your pocket, and slightly slouching your shoulders in defeat.

“Here’s your receipt,” the cashier declared, holding out the white gloss paper over to your companion. He took it swiftly from their grasp and crumbled the paper into his front pocket.

“We’ll have your order out momentarily,” they smiled sweetly before turning away to prepare your drinks and food.

He walked away from the counter and back to the spot hidden away from view. You both sat down and he propped his leg on the empty chair next to you.

“So…” you trailed, clasping your hands together on the wooden table. You focused on him and he stared right back, the zeal so very hard to bear. “What’s your major?”

“Neuroscience.”

The shock surely mirrored in your face. 

He was a science major? 

Anything in relation to science would be at the bottom of the list for a career he would pursue, you would think, because he appeared to be anything but. Despite your assumptions, he indubitably had surprises up his sleeve.

“W-What? You major in biological and biomedical science?”

“Yes,” he leans forward with a tilt of his head, placing his own hands on the table. “Let me fathom, I don’t seem like a science major?”

You shake your head. “Y-Yes…No…I mean I truthfully thought you were an art major, specifically in fashion design or something of the alike.”

He presses on, “Why is that?”

“Well…I don’t know. A hunch I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, not knowing what you were truly getting at. “You just strike me as a very creative person with a great sense of style. You even wore something customized the other day. I am sure you did that yourself.”

He leans back, crossing his arms in his chair. “You aren’t wrong. I like art, but more as a hobby and I happen to have natural fashion taste. Customizing clothes and shoes is just a pastime.”

You nod your head slowly. Not everything is as it seems. “Oh…well, it still holds true in some regard.”

“Indeed,” he murmurs.

You both get interrupted at the arrival of your food and drinks. The young girl serves the plates and drinks, a kind beam etched onto her face. Her gaze lingers too long on him when she asks if anything else is needed before she trudges away and he would be a fool not to notice. He disregards it, however, opting to ignore. You wished you could remain as neutral as he was, still the green, ugly monster couldn’t help but claw in your being.

While you were going to continue to ask him questions to get to know him better, you decided against it. Maybe after you finished your meal so you ate in silence, the occasional slurp and chewing sounds filling the quietness, regardless of those that came and went into the café.

He wipes his mouth clean with his spare napkin once he finishes eating, crumbling it up in a ball when he’s done. “Your major, what is it?”

You look up, in the midst of sipping the last droplets of your iced coffee and give him a small smile. “I’m a psychology major.”

“Ah,” he says, pushing his plate forward to the center of the table.

You thought he would add on, but he doesn’t and you decide to further the conversation.

“I know you already told me a hobby of yours, any more you have though?”

“I compose music,” he shrugs, raising his arms in the air to stretch. “I cook too.” His arms lower and he rests them on the empty chair to his right. You knew he wouldn’t ask you about your own hobbies as he seemed to like being on the receiving end and didn’t seem all too interested in you, when you wanted to know everything in contrast.

You decide to speak up for yourself, to permit him to know some things about you too. “Well I like to bake and I do some graphic design on the side.”

He nods his head for the unkempt time that day. You wished he would talk more than use actions. His voice was all more soothing to listen to.

“How about—”

You are cut off by a ding sounding from his cell as he checks the screen that illuminates with a notification. He stands up abruptly, his cell phone held tightly in his grasp.

“I have to go. I’ll see you around…” He pauses peering down at your furrowed brows. “We should do this again sometime.”

Did he say that correctly?

You were sure this “date” was more boring rather than entertaining.

Your eyes furrow even more as you’re amazed at his open admittance to another so-called gathering between the two of you. You were going to ask yourself, but he beat you to it.

“Sure,” you replied with a kind smile. “I’d like that.”

His head movement is slight and you notice his agreeance. He steps away from the table and your hand reaches out to catch onto the cool leather of his jacket before you can stop yourself.

He eyeballs you expectantly, wondering why you had stopped him.

“Does that mean I can get your number?” you question with a tilt of your head.

He chuckles lowly at your shamelessness. “I suppose you earned it, sweetheart.”

He takes his cell phone out of his pocket, handing it over to you in order to put in all your contact information while you take out your own device from your pocket to give to him. You take his cell from his grasp and type away your first name along with your phone number. Once the electronics are returned to their respectful owners, you glance down at the name he put into his phone, holding onto the fact that it could very much be his real name, except it wasn’t. He had named himself “NCT 1,” and you had to roll your eyes from the name of choice.

You slightly giggle and you can see the ghost of a smile on his face when he went his way towards the exit. The bell dings when he’s gone and as you look at his retreating figure in the huge glass window, a smile twitches on your face, one so very wide.

Your little lunch “date” went better than expected and it was one of many for more to come, serving as the much needed catalyst. Over the next couple of weeks, you would text with the boy whose name wasn’t disclosed and bask in his presence over the semi-dates you had with each other, ranging from ones at the same café for lunch or ones late at night in the library. They varied and whenever you met up, there was a sparkle in your eyes and a lightness in your chest. You were able to get to know him more and more, to truly understand him, to get to see what laid beyond the surface of his façade. He was more than what meets the eye, even if he seemed to deflect his fair share of personal information, you still had gotten closer. He wouldn’t have asked to meet up so often if you hadn’t liked the company and you wouldn’t have agreed if you thought he was a waste of time.

The only aspect that was frustrating was his refusal to share his name or even give a hint at what it could be. He would deflect, saying it didn’t matter and all that did was the moments with each other, yet his reassurance did little to suppress your ever growing curiosity. However, he had eventually cracked at your most recent study date.

“It’s Lee…Lee Taeyong,” he proclaimed randomly when you were scribbling down notes and he was reading a passage for his assigned reading in the dim corner of the library at nearly ten past eleven at night. The sound of the tick-tock filling the void of silence.

“Huh?” you asked, placing your pen down on the table and glancing up at him, head tilted, forehead wrinkled.

“My name,” he cleared his throat, locking eyes with you. “My name is Lee Taeyong.”

You had gotten a name that night to attach to the gorgeous boy you now knew more than ever about and his name was as equally captivating as himself.

Although contrary to your meetups, you rarely saw him around campus and if you did so happen to see him, he always seemed to be with a fellow frat brother, refusing to acknowledge you if you looked his way. It was odd in contrast to how he acted when you two were alone, and somehow you understood where he was coming from. You wouldn’t want to be caught either with him. Too many questions to deal with after, too much judgment and disappointment.

Despite that fear hidden in the back of your mind, he unknowingly made you happy, beyond content for a reason that was too hard to explain and too obvious to those around you.

Mark and Nicole knew something was up, but never lodged on the matter, regarding that joy could be found anywhere and in anything. Yet, you weren’t as subtle with your dashing off or disappearing for long periods of time when the meet ups became more frequent. They would eventually catch on, although you would remain blinded by the manufactured bubble of joy that was created.

So your then high became a low.

You blame Mark, but at the same time you don’t because you knew you had to be cautious. 

He invited you that week for a small get together at his frat house, nothing grand like the parties they hosted nearly every two weeks on a Friday. No, this gathering would be for close friends and companions, just for some lighthearted fun, to serve as a destresser before the hell weeks would start in December. It was a Thanksgiving celebration of sorts, a Friendsgiving where you would come together and strengthen your bonds with each other, regardless of how much you knew of the others who would join. 

He invited you and Nicole like he always did with any event that revolved around his fraternity or partying in general. You thought it would be nice to come, to spend some quality time with your best friends that you felt you hadn’t seen in forever, too preoccupied with Taeyong to have some time with them. He was far from your mind when Mark extended the invitation and you wished your common sense would have kicked in earlier, before the small party began, because he was in fact part of the fraternity and would very much be there.

You shouldn’t have been shocked when you saw him right when you ambled into the house with Mark and Nicole in tow. He was chatting with Johnny, the tall boy you hadn’t seen in so long ever since that encounter months ago. He held a champagne glass in one hand while the other was tucked into his black jeans. He had his signature chains intertwined in the belt loops with a light lavender turtleneck, that had a graphic design in blue of a person’s lower face in the center of the chest, tucked into his jeans, and a black and white tweed blazer thrown over the top. His shiny, black dress shoes completed the outfit as he was surely one of the best dressed by far. Even if the event was semi-formal and everyone you saw littering around in the entryway were classy, yet simple in their approaches, he managed to catch your eye right away.

“Ah, if it isn’t little Lee arriving right on time!” Johnny yells out, striding over in big steps to where the three of you stood by the entrance.

Mark rolls his eyes at the nickname, but goes in for a half handshake and hug. “Hey at least I made it and also it isn’t little Lee anymore, remember? If anything I am the middle Lee.” 

“Still won’t stop me from calling you little Lee, little Lee.” Johnny slaps him on the shoulder, his laughter echoing. “I see you brought two stunning ladies in tow too.” He directs his attention to you and Nicole, not bothering to conceal the fact that he was blatantly checking the both of you out.

“Looks like we meet again, gorgeous,” Johnny states, reaching for your hand and giving a light kiss to the skin, a wink thrown after you retract your hand.

You don’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “Hi Johnny,” you mutter with a sickly gratifying smile plastered across your face.

He laughs once more as his eyes then trail to Nicole who stands unfazed and slightly bored at the appearance of Johnny.

“Well I don’t think we’ve met before. I would have remembered a face like yours, someone so absolutely breathtaking,” he cheekily vocalizes.

It is now Nicole’s turn to roll her eyes and she takes steps to get nearer to Johnny, his eyebrows shooting up at her boldness, but then a smirk rests on his face.

She reaches out her hand and pats him on the chest before he gets the chance to kiss her hand. “Save the flirting for someone else, will you mate? For someone you at least have a chance with because it ain’t me honey,” she drawls, stepping away to go further inside the house, waving her hand in the air as a farewell.

Mark and you stifle back laughter at her shamelessness. She sure was something, you would admit.

“Fuck you guys,” Johnny remarks, flipping both you and Mark off, yet you could see the ghost of a smile on his lips as he retreats after Nicole.

“She’s something, huh?” Someone says, taking the thoughts right out of your head.

“Yeah,” you respond, wiping your finger under your eyes from how hilarious that scene played out. “She sure is.”

And that is when you pause in realization. You knew that voice.

You turn around to come face to face with an all too familiar boy—Lee Taeyong.

You chuckled timidly, fumbling with your fingers as you fix your gaze on him. His eyebrow is arched and when he takes a sip of his champagne you can see his smile reflected in the glass.

“Oh!” Mark exclaims, putting his arm around your shoulder, an action that makes Taeyong’s eyes harden in the smallest way, or maybe you were imagining it. “I don’t think you guys have been introduced to each other before. This is Taeyong angel, and Taeyong this is—”

Taeyong doesn’t let Mark finish, muttering out a stern, “I know who she is Mark, I’ve seen her around with you before.”

“Oh,” Mark lets out, his enthusiastic self diminishing. “That makes sense.”

Taeyong nods and lifts his glass in your direction, his eyes refusing to make contact for more than a second. “Nice to meet you.”

You mumble back with a slight frown you desperately try to hide. You conjectured why he was acting so cold. “You too.”

“Okay, anyways…” Mark trails off looking between the two of you, trying to figure out if something was up. “I am going to get a drink. You ready, angel?” He asks you when he peers at the side of your face.

You give Mark a small smile, nodding your head. “Yeah, but…um I have to use the restroom first.”

Though before you could depart, someone else makes an appearance, someone you forgot about and would make matters much more complicated than they need to be.

“Yo Mark! They need help with the drinks in the back,” he yells walking into the room, jabbing his finger behind him. “They apparently stocked up on their orders of alcohol so it’s a lot.” 

You glance at the entrance when you hear his voice and your heart stops in your chest. 

What the hell was Lee Jeno doing here?

Mark’s arm drops from your shoulder, giving a roll of his eyes. “Of course they fucking did. I'll be right there.” He doesn’t spare Jeno another glance and neither do you, desperately trying to conceal yourself from his line of sight. Mark regards you with kind eyes, knowing you had questions he would answer at a more convenient time about why Jeno was here. He continues on from before he was interrupted. “You know where the restroom is right?”

Your eyes can’t help but flit to where Jeno stood, trying to see if he left, but when you look over Mark’s shoulder, you see him patiently waiting for the older boy and his eyes are already staring right at you. You gulp, turning back to look at Mark. “Yes, I do,” you step away from him, not spearing another glance at Taeyong or Jeno as you get lost down the hall towards the bathroom. 

Although you do manage to see the way everyone’s eyes follow your figure and the way Jeno had slightly placed his foot forward, debating to follow after you or not, yet he retreats to follow after Mark instead to help in the back.

You didn’t really have to go to the restroom, you just wanted to get away from the suffocating room with the three boys, for the dread that your secrets would get revealed if you weren’t cautious.

You hear the footsteps before you see him and you just knew there was a chance he would be the one to follow you.

You don’t have to turn around to confirm your suspicions, wrapping your arms around your body.

“What was that?” he questions lowly.

You groan. “What do you mean what was that? You were the one acting all cold.”

His hand reaches out to hold your upper arm, turning you to face him, except you don’t, opting to check out the floor.

“I was so-called cold,” he makes quotation marks once his hand drops. “Because you refused to acknowledge me. Do I also have to mention the way I saw you look at Jeno? Don’t think I didn’t see it sweetheart, because I did and I’m sure anyone else with two eyes could see it too.”

You shake your head, scoffing at his bluntness. “Oh, of course you would point that out, but it isn’t that deep. Don’t let jealousy cloud your vision, Yong,” you drawl and you see the way his eyes go dark. “It isn’t me you should be concerned about, when you were acting all high and mighty way before.”

He stays silent because he knew you were right, yet it does little to lessen his hard stare. “Listen you know we can’t be seen together or seen as if we know each other, it will raise too many questions.” You placed your hand on his bicep, his previous declaration about Jeno not holding any importance. Your eyes become so round and wide that he can feel his heart slightly crack. “I don’t want any of them to be upset at me or question my sensibility.”

He pursues his lips, “I understand that, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I understand and I apologize for the way I acted. I apologize for acting like an ass.” His attention moved to the floor, his strands of hair falling over his face and you let out a small giggle from his candor. 

You maneuver your hand to cup his cheek, rubbing his cheek. “It’s okay, I forgive you.”

The moment lasts for the shortest while all due to Mark’s loud voice calling your name.

“Shit,” you muttered, dropping your hand. “He can’t see you.” You push Taeyong in the direction further down the hallway, that you hoped would lead somewhere away from where Mark would reach in a few more steps.

Taeyong doesn’t utter a word and paces down the hall without so much as a goodbye, just in time when Mark squints his eyes to make out your figure, but he wasn’t looking at you, rather behind you.

He caught sight of Taeyong and you were doomed.

“Angel…” he trails off, his eyes still squinted in scrutiny. “Why were you with Taeyong?”

“W-What?” You stutter in response, swearing at yourself internally at the fact that you gave it away in just one word. Mark knew you were hiding something whenever you stumbled over your words.

“You heard me, why were you with Taeyong?”

The way he was saying the boy’s name and the implications in his pitch of voice stirred something inside of you. You needed to defend him more than yourself.

“Why can’t I?” 

He regards you with somber eyes and reaches forward to take your hand. “Angel...”

You step away from him, tucking your hands into your body. “No, answer me.”

He is startled at your seriousness and evident protest. You were never one to turn away from him.

“He’s just…” he pauses, struggling to find the right words, ones that wouldn’t destroy you. He decides against finishing his sentence, choosing the all too familiar words. “Be careful. Just be careful, angel.”

Your brows furrow and that is when you lose it.

“Be careful,” you scoff, letting your hands free from around your body. “Everyone says that. Be careful. Be careful, but of what?” You throw your hands up in the air, frustration seeping in your voice. “What do I have to be careful of Mark?”

Mark visibly winces at the sound of his name coming from your lips, you never called him that, not since you first met those fateful years ago. You called him Markie and always Markie, which is how he knew you were truly upset. 

“Tell me. For goodness sake tell me! He’s just a boy like the rest of you in this forsaken frat house of yours. So why, oh why, can’t I be seen with him!?”

You pace back and forth, clenching and unclenching your fists, trying to keep composure that you lost at the start.

Mark heaves a sigh, he knew where you were coming from, it was all too common and seeing you in this predicament made him ache more than you’ll ever know.

He whispers his next words carefully, scared at what your answer could mean when he asked. “You like him don’t you?” His eyes flickering close for the merest moment in wait. 

You resemble someone who’s deepest, darkest secret just got exposed after trying so hard to cover the tracks when he peered at you.

“I never said that.” Your clenched hands relaxed as you now nervously fiddled with your fingers.

“No and you don’t need to, but it isn’t hard to tell. I saw the way you looked at him when we came inside. After all, actions speak louder than words.”

Silence. 

The tick-tock of the clock somewhere in the hall, decreasing. 

The laughs and chatters of those in the other rooms, muffled. 

All that was heard were the steady breaths of you and Mark.

Mark disturbs the quietude first. “Angel I—”

You rapidly shake your head. “Mark…stop,” you whisper and he closes his mouth before he can finish. “Don’t try to make me feel guilty. If I like him I do, and if I don’t then you don’t have to worry. Just let me figure out things on my own.” 

You lock eyes with him, the tears prickling the corner of your eye as you stride forward. “Please…just please….let me live once on my own terms rather than your own.” You don’t lay your eyes on him again after your last words are spoken, you simply trudge away, leaving two boys who held pieces of your heart in different ways.

You couldn’t help but ponder over the words of Mark as you were plodding to the exit of the house, no longer wishing to stay because of the mess that was created all within less than an hour.

Twisting open the door and letting it shut close, believing that no one saw you leave, you were encompassed in the night. The twinkling stars overhead and the white glow of the moon shining down, the fluorescent lights of the house adding to brightness. 

Peeping at the sky, everything flooded your mind at once. 

Were you really starting to fall like Mark said? Was it really that obvious? That you had caught feelings for a boy that seemed to be off limits and that you were warned about?

Did you truly like Lee Taeyong?

Those were the questions floating around, all that you couldn’t answer because you knew you wouldn’t like the result. 

You were never good at feelings or admittance of faults, you choose to ignore them, but this was one of those times you couldn’t entirely push them aside because they meant something more. They were unlike anything ever felt and you never truly liked mystery, no matter if it drew you in. You had to figure out what was different and if it was worth the risk to take.

You didn’t necessarily find out the answers to the questions that plagued your mind when your next friendly date came around with Taeyong, this one unlike the others before, being on a Friday after classes and at a cute ice cream parlor you had found one day, nestled between a bookshop and the farmer’s mart. 

All the bad blood between you from last Friday had diminished into nothing, you forgave and forgot as he did as well. That was the only argument you ever truly had ever since your friendship blossomed, the last one you would ever encounter if you were lucky.

Stepping inside and finding a seat while Taeyong got the ice cream after asking for your order, you clasped your hands together tightly, your knuckles turning white. 

You knew what you had to do today, before your outing ended and Taeyong left till the next time you would see him. Three words that had the ability to bring people together or tear them apart.

He scraped the chair across the tile, startling you as he sat down and placed a cup of cookie dough ice cream down along with a green tea flavored one. He took the latter for himself, and pushed the other cup in your direction, the small pink spoon poking out.

“Bon appetit,” he exclaims and takes a large spoonful of his ice cream while you leave your dessert unscathed. You suddenly lost your appetite, dreading what would come.

“Hey,” he says, tapping his index finger on your hand, the cool metal of his ring causing you to shiver. “What’s wrong?”

He takes his hand back and places it on the table. You always noticed how he never initiated skinship or desired to touch like you wished him to do. If anything his touch would only linger for a few seconds, whether it be a pat on the hand or a palm on your shoulder, nothing too grand that had to bear on for eternity. 

You cleared your throat, not maintaining eye contact with him any more.. “I have to tell you something…”

He hummed in response as an indicator to keep you going.

“It’s frankly frightening for me to admit and I have no idea if you feel the same, but I just have to tell you. To get this weight off my chest, even if I am setting myself up for the worst,” you stop and reach your hand over the table to place it on top of his, being bold with disregard to your observations. You don’t even notice the way he slightly flinches, but he doesn’t pull away.

“I guess over our time of getting to know each other, something further stirred in my chest. In fact it was already there but it was more profound once I got to know the type of person you are—someone who isn’t so esoteric or unexpressive. Someone who indeed has a fragile, yet caring heart and maybe it took a slap in the face to notice, but…Yong…”

Your thumb caressed his skin as you peered at him with so very gentle eyes and his own remained stoic.

You took a deep breath—make or break. “I like you.”

He retracted his hand so briskly, it was if he had gotten burned. He rubbed at his hand, where your touch still lingered. He shakes his head rapidly, “No…No…No. You can’t…”

This is the first time he ever denied to make eye contact with you and you felt your heart shatter both at his words as well as actions.

Rejection.

You should have expected this, but your all too positive outlook on life was your downfall.

You croaked out, “What do you mean you can’t?”

You deserved some sort of explanation, he couldn’t leave you hanging.

He turned his head to finally see you and you could make out the coherent regret in his eyes, with an ounce of pity. You didn’t want pity, you wanted understanding.

“Baby…” You cower back at the affectionate name, his hands holding onto each other so tightly you could only see white. He repeats himself again, the internal battle he was having with himself unknown to you. “Baby, I’m afraid to fall in love. ‘Cause what if it’s not reciprocated?”

Another crack and a few more you would be gone, submerging yourself in tears of regret.

“B-But it is. Can’t you see? I like you and you—”

He cuts you off, standing up from his chair abruptly, the sound catching the attention of those that sat at the tables near you.

“No,” he shakes his head one more, this time calmer than the last. “No, there’s a difference. You’re infatuated with me. You just like the idea of me so don’t call me your lover, don’t tell me you have feelings for me, when you don’t even love me.”

His words were an arrow to the heart.

How could he possibly know your feelings when he couldn’t even tell his own?

His warning echoes in your ears when he leaves, the slam of the door scaring those inside the parlor but you remain unfazed. This was more than rejection, it was a declaration, a calling for lonely souls that would never find love.

After all, they say all good things come to an end and after you were sparked with a surge of boldness to confess, Lee Taeyong walked away from you, when you thought he would be by your side.

He forgets about you that day and if only it was easy to forget about him.

You weren’t as good as hiding things as you thought you were because your somber mood could be seen for miles. Mark had an idea of why you were so upset, after all he seemed to know every detail when it came to your nonexistent love life, especially since he saw Taeyong nearly every day. On the other hand, Nicole had no idea since she didn’t know Taeyong and you never told her, but she had a hunch it had to do with a boy. Whenever you were down, even in high school, it always had to be because of a boy who wasn’t worth your time as she always reminded you.

You don’t know how much time had passed since your last encounter with Taeyong, since that last fateful day. Time either went by faster or slower whenever you were sad, though more often than none it was the latter. Despite everything you still found yourself meeting up with your best friends and staying on top of your classes, pushing aside any invitations you received for a frat or sorority party when you knew you had the potential to see him there. You knew you would crumble if you did and that weakness was one you weren’t quite ready to share.

So it was Wednesday of the however many days had gone and when you were poking at your salad, refusing to eat more than a few leaves, that Mark speaks up inside the cafeteria, at your usual meet up. Only small remarks were ever made at those now, they knew you weren’t in the right state of mind to talk, but he does so anyways. 

“Angel, I’m sorry.”

His words burn a hole through your heart, of course he was, he was the one that said to be careful—him and Nicole.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you mutter angrily and swipe your backpack off the chair with your books in hand, your tray with you unfinished food in the other. You stand up and leave the cafeteria so fast it takes a while for Nicole and Mark to truly comprehend yet they don’t come after you. Some friends they could be

You dump your leftover meal into the trashcan and place the tray on the top of the metal your way out. You were more frustrated and pissed off than anything else. Today was clearly not your day, it hasn’t been in such a long time and it was why you decided to skip your last class for the day even if it would bite you back in the ass.

You had no problem getting into your car and speeding down the highway to your apartment, too gone when you arrived at your complex. You wanted to take a long awaited nap and maybe cry yourself to sleep to get rid of the icky feelings you had all over.

You stagger your way through the door after pushing it open and down the narrow hall to your bedroom. You don’t bother to change out of your school clothes, choosing to just kick off your Vans before you crash face forward into your soft mattress. Just when you are about to close your eyes you hear a knock at your door.

You hoick your head up with a groan. 

Who the fuck would be here right now?

You have no choice but to get your lazy and gloomy ass out of bed to answer the door, not prepared to see who is on the other side of the wooden frame.

You open the door to none other than Lee fucking Taeyong, in all his glory, with his smooth parted hair that fell over his forehead and his so very gorgeous face. His stylish outfit was more dressed down than ever with a simple blue Gucci hoodie, baggy blue jeans that were cuffed at the ankles, and some simple white sneakers. Yet, he looked the exact same as he did that day, no ounce of any toll the event had taken on him, but if you inspected closely enough, you could see the bags under his eyes. He hadn’t been getting much sleep and neither had you, something that made you feel a little bit better, that he had his own fair share of pain after what he did to you—the both of you.

“Oh hell,” you muttered immediately, closing the door on his face, but his foot makes contact with the door, stopping you from fully shutting the entryway.

You groan, you determine you would have to deal with him eventually so might as well get it over with. You open the door widely, ushering him in with a dramatic gesture that he has to hold back a laugh from due to your annoyance.

You close the door, locking it shut while you regard him with deadpan eyes. “Okay what the hell are you doing here? No, no…wait. How did you get my apartment number? I never told you.”

The seriousness in your gaze slightly frightens him, he had never seen you look so unlike yourself. Your features were always soft and welcoming, but now they were rough and seemed so lifeless.

He gulps, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pocket, his left leg moving up and down. “I asked Mark where you were…actually no, he called me. He was worried about you and wanted me to check up on you, to resolve what’s going on with us.” He waves a hand between the two of your bodies and you can’t but roll your eyes. He couldn’t even say what the matter was, he had no idea what he did wrong.

When he notices you won’t speak another word, he continues on, “Listen, sweetheart.” He notices your wince at the all too nostalgic nickname, still continuing on. “Mark cares about you, he really does and you shouldn’t ignore him. You shouldn’t push him or Nicole away…please don’t for my sake at least.”

You scoff, crossing your hands over your chest, “You’re one to talk.”

“Trust me I know but—“

You cut him off, eyes zoning in on his face, diverting the conversation another way. You still didn’t know why he truly came. “What are you doing here Taeyong?”

“I already told you—“

“No,” you cut him off once more, eyes narrowing even further, “Why are you really here and don’t say for Mark or Nicole. Why did you decide to come?”

He stutters, you never saw him stutter. He was always calm and collected, so sure of himself. “I-I just really wanted to see you…I missed you.”

Those mere words are when you burst.

“You can’t say that! You can’t. You ghosted me for days, for weeks, I don’t know how long it has been. I reached out to your friends, your fellow frat brothers to ask where you were and they always deflected, saying you were too busy with assignments, with everything else going on in your life, especially finals coming up. But I could see it in their eyes, Taeyong.”

He winces at his full name. You always opted to call him Yong or any other variation of his name, but not Taeyong.

“I could tell they were lying to me. You weren’t as busy as they said. In fact you know…” You turn your attention away to look at the clock in the kitchen. “I saw you the other day when I came out of the library. It was already dark out and you know,” you could feel your tears slipping out and the look of absolute guilt plagues his face. He never wanted you to cry because of him.  “Someone was with you, a boy, a girl, a frat brother, I don’t know, but you had this smile on your face that I could see for miles. You never smiled at me like that before and I knew in some small way that you were doing well, while I was over here beating myself about everything revolving around my stupid confession. So you know what? Don’t say you miss me when you don’t really mean it. Don’t give me too many words, too many excuses and not enough love…just…” you choke on your words, breaking down, piece by piece. “Get out.”

He looks destroyed at your last words and reaches out his hand, “I—”

You turn your body away from him, cowering into yourself.

He releases a sigh, he knew you wouldn’t budge. “Okay, okay. I’ll go.”

So he leaves, going out the front door and withdrawing from your life once more. You only wish he fought back and didn’t surrender to defeat.

But it isn’t even twenty-four hours later when Lee Taeyong comes knocking at your door another time, on your way out for your morning class for the day. He rushes in with messy bed hair, a striped black and red long sleeve shirt, baggy black jeans, and some brown Converse.

He came back for you after all and it touched your heart, mending some pieces that were broken from his own faults, even when the rest of your soul wanted you to stay mad at him.

He places his hands on your shoulder, directing your eye contact solely to him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart for what I said and how I acted. It was never my intention to harm you, but I was scared of the feelings that you voiced, the ones I wasn’t sure if I could return so I ran away from it, from you, leaving you in pain because I couldn’t admit anything to myself. I apologize and I hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me.”

You could tell the sincerity in his words, how he was speaking from his heart rather than his mind. He truly was sorry and you both knew you would be all right even with a bump like this in the road. It was inevitable, everyone fought, for stupid or valid reasons, an aspect part of the cycle of life, but you could overcome that obstacle as would he. 

You took Taeyong’s hand into your own, a smile on your face, one that made him release a sigh that you weren’t mad. “I get it, Yongie. I get it and I forgive you. You did hurt me, I admit, but hey what’s life without a little woe?”

He lightly laughs and squeezes your hand, the relief noticeable in his face. “Thank you.”

“But it still doesn’t bypass the fact that I caused you distress too and I apologize for that as well. We offended each other unintentionally, but I am glad we are somewhat okay.”

He steps back from you, his hands covered by his long sleeves. “I sure hope so, but sweetheart?”

You hum.

“I can’t return your feelings. I can’t, no matter how much you want me to.”

You nod your head, your smile now sad. “It’s okay. I might want something more, but you can’t give that and it’s okay. To be in love is both a blessing and a curse. I’ll just have to live with it and learn to get over it. You can’t have control over who you fall in love with.”

“I wish I could,” he mutters.

You shake your head, “You can’t change what’s meant to be.”

His regretful eyes lock onto you when he ushers his hand out, if not lovers then there was something even equally or more so valuable. “Friends?”

You latch your hand onto his, “Friends.”

Then all is well with Lee Taeyong as you go back to your usual routine, hanging out on select days, whenever you both were free, but with the end of the December having rolled around you saw less and less of him. You were both busy with taking your finals, but he had more on his plate being a third year. It was hard to set aside time to go out or even text as he became drowned in his ever increasing workload.

You suppose that should have served as a warner because then everything goes downhill like the rollercoaster that explained your life.

Mark is the one that delivers the news at the end of finals week when you all gathered at your apartment for a much needed Disney movie marathon—the trio back again after a much stressful week. You rarely saw each other, too immersed in your studies and wants to receive high marks.

“Thank goodness hell week is over,” Nicole groans, stretching her body on the couch. “I felt like I was going to pass out by the time it was Wednesday.”

“I feel ya, sister,” you murmur, planting yourself down on the floor with a bowl of popcorn in your hands. “I was about to give up.”

Mark rolls his eyes when he sits down next to you, placing the bowl of assorted candy on the floor. “You guys are exaggerating. First year finals aren’t too bad. Just wait till next year.”

Nicole reaches over and whacks the top of Mark’s head as he lets out a whine. “Hey!”

“Shut up, you motherfucker,” she states, sneaking a hand into the popcorn in your grasp. “This isn’t about you.”

“I never said it was.”

“You always complain. Do you ever shut up?”

“Guys!” you yell amidst their argument.

“Why the hell are you attacking me?”

“Why not? It’s fun.”

“Guys!” you yell once more, your voice raising that catches their attention.

Mark sheepishly smiles at you, but not before sending a glare at Nicole, one which she returns. 

“Sorry, angel.”

You roll your eyes playfully at him. “Can we just pick a movie?”

He nods his head and grabs the remote on the glass table, opening Disney Plus and scrolling through the selection of movies.

You hear the chewing of Nicole and the clicking of the remote, filling up the quietness in contrast to the noise that was prevalent before.

You ask a question, meekly, not particularly addressing anyone in the room once Mark lands on a movie suggestion. “Do you know how Taeyong is?”

Nicole’s chewing ceases and Mark looks over at you, still holding onto the remote. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. I hadn’t seen him since the week before finals. He said he would text me once it was over, but I haven’t received anything and today is the last day before break.”

You see Mark lock eyes with Nicole, them having a silent conversation that you had no clue to decipher. Nicole gives a nod to Mark and your shoulders a reassuring squeeze, allowing Mark to speak up in a whisper. “He didn’t tell you?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Tell me what?”

He swears under his breath, moving closer to you to grasp your hands. “Angel…he’s leaving.”

You try to tug your hands away, but he won’t let you go. “What do you mean leaving?”

“He’s going to the states for a master’s program at Harvard, he received a full ride to study neuroscience. He finished all his credits early so he was able to graduate this semester instead of in another year like he was supposed to. His flight leaves tomorrow morning. He wanted to get an early start to settle down and everything.”

Mark finally lets go of your hands, giving a squeeze when you pull away. Water was prickling in the corner of your eyes, waiting to be released. “W-What? Y-Your lying. W-Why didn’t he t-tell me?”

Mark tilts his head up, contemplating what to say next when you were readably getting emotional and he didn’t want to wound you further. “I’m not, angel, but I think why he didn’t tell you was because he didn’t want to upset you. You had only gotten close this year and him telling you he was leaving would give you more hurt than he ever would want you to bear, especially considering you both had a tough couple of weeks that placed a stain on your friendship.”

“T-That shouldn’t m-matter b-because doesn’t he know this h-hurts me too? Him leaving w-without saying goodbye?”

You feel the weight of Nicole’s hand on your shoulders once more, rubbing the clothed skin. “You have to know where he’s coming from love. I am sure he has a reason.”

“Yeah, a bullshit one!” you croak out, some tears cascading down your cheeks.

“Hey, angel, hey,” Mark speaks out, resting his hand on your thigh. “Calm down. I can drive you to the airport tomorrow. I know when his flight leaves. How about that? Give him a piece of your mind and a proper goodbye.”

You sniffle, wiping the tears from underneath your eyes. “Y-Yeah…that s-sounds good.”

Mark smiles. “Good. Trust Taeyong to be stupid as fuck sometimes.”

You chuckle at your best friend’s attempt to lighten the mood, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder. “You can say that again.”

The next morning you are all jitters, waking up at six in the morning sharp to drive an hour to the airport, in hopes you would arrive before his flight departs at eight.

Mark had served as a wakeup call, being on facetime as you both got ready. Nicole couldn’t join the two of you for some reason, giving the excuse that she needed to sleep in after her emotional and mental exhaustion from finals. You couldn’t complain, you needed sleep too, but catching Taeyong mattered more.

Mark kept calling you out for your nervousness, your leg moving up and down throughout nearly the whole ride and when he put his hand on your thigh to calm you in some way, you switched to messing with your fingers.

There was more traffic than you realized and Mark drove exceptionally slow to where you arrived at the airport twenty minutes to eight. You rushed between the crowds, Mark hot on your trail as you searched for the correct gate that so happened to be at the opposite end of where you parked.

You glanced at the time on your cell phone, it was now five minutes to eight and your eyes peered over the heads of countless people to look for gate C7.

Then you spotted the neon yellow sign of the gate of where Taeyong would hopefully be. You glanced at the waiting area near the gate, searching for a familiar mop of hair and superb fashion sense, though to no avail, he wasn’t there, until a voice spoke up behind you, one light, yet masculine.

“Sweetheart?”

You didn’t think twice, turning on your heels and latching your arms around his neck. He didn’t flinch away this time, wrapping his arms around your waist to hug you closer.

“You’re an idiot, Lee Taeyong. A dumb fucking idiot,” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, holding back your tears the second day in a row. “You were really going to leave without saying goodbye? Who the fuck does that?”

He loosens his hold on you and puts you at arm's length to properly take a good look at you, wiping his thumb underneath your eye at the stray tear that falls down.

“I know, trust me, I know and I’m sorry. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you that I was leaving…I didn’t want to break your heart a second time.” He gives you a sad and soft smile.

You shake your head, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your eyes. “That’s a dumb excuse, Yong. I’m only ever yours to break.”

“I wish that wasn’t the case, my love. I don’t think I deserve that right.” 

You interlock your hands together with his, giving him a squeeze with fondness in your gaze. “You deserve everything, Yongie. You deserve the universe.”

He chuckles, letting go. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Your smile widens as you tear up once more from his words. “Guess fate made us both lucky.”

He nods his head. “Indeed it did.”

You converse further, “I’m proud of you, you know, I’m proud that you’re achieving your goals.”

“Now boarding passengers for flight 6313 to Boston, Massachusetts. Proceed to gate C7.”

His eyes widen at the announcement and he latches his hand onto your wrist to pull you into his chest one more time before he leaves, holding more tightly than he ever did, both of you afraid to let go.

Time ran out.

He whispers with his chin resting on your head and swaying your bodies back and forth, “I am proud of you too, my love.”

He doesn’t cry, but you can sense the sadness exuding off of him at the fact that he truly had to leave you behind when he was wishing he didn’t have to.

He steps back, letting go at once, his smile making you all cozy inside even with stained tears on your cheeks. “Goodbye, sweetheart. Take care of yourself for me. Take care of Mark and the rest of those obnoxious boys.”

You laugh at his use of words and nod your head, the smile on your lips wavering.

“But most importantly, don’t be a stranger,” he winks, grabbing the handle of his luggage and duffle bag as he advances forward to the gate. “Don’t forget about me,” he whispers to himself.

He is mere steps away from going through the gate when he turns his head back, giving you a small wave and you wave right back till he turns around again.

Then you realized you couldn’t leave him like that, with a small conversation, without anything to remember you by in that moment, so you run forward without thought, yelling out, “Wait!”

His eyes are wide with curiosity when he sees you run full speed ahead and you catch the front of his unbuttoned black silk shirt with gold patterns etched into the material, to pull him to a kiss.

You mumble against his lips, “Just love me once,” and he does, kissing you back with so much fervor it makes you dizzy, your heart going haywire with its frantic beats.

You don’t know how long you remain locking lips till the intercom announces overhead another time.

“Last call for flight 6313 to Boston, Massachusetts. Last call for flight 6313 to Boston, Massachusetts.  Proceed to gate C7. Proceed to gate C7.”

The announcement serves as your deal breaker for he steps back, his arms leaving your waist bare and cold. His lips are swollen pink and the black sunglasses fixated on the top of his lead is lopsided, his shirt a little wrinkly from where you held on.

You giggle at his appearance and he shakes his head, leaning forward to peck your forehead, not making a direct comment about the kiss.“Tell me baby, would you still love me even if we weren’t together?”

Your smile widens, fixing up his silk shirt, “I’ll always love you.”

You wore your heart on your sleeve for him and even if he couldn’t return the favor you knew he didn’t invalidate your feelings because candidly he returned them. He liked you as much as you liked him, but he couldn’t confess, he couldn’t proclaim the feelings that kept him up at night and made him feel whole. No, he couldn’t because he was slightly afraid of what it meant and because the timing was off when his entire future laid ahead. To him there was no point to have a relationship when he would leave almost a month later so he pushed those emotions connecting the two of you to the back of his mind for the greater good. For you to be happy with just knowing him, getting to befriend rather than longing after him when he would leave.

He would only prevent you from loving and that was something he couldn’t let you do.

Your answer to his question was the one he was looking for, the one he always wanted to hear coming out of your lips one day, for his smile is enough to set the whole world ablaze. He takes your hand to give the skin a kiss, a lingering touch of remembrance. “Perhaps I do too.”

His last words are permanently engraved in your mind for he had admitted his true feelings indirectly and that was enough. That was enough to keep you hoping when he vanished through the airport gate to go to another part of the world, somewhere where he could thrive again and live to his fullest potential. 

After all he was just a flickering flame, there one second then gone the next and not so easy to tame for flames always had the want to be free. 

Though sometimes flames are reborn, with new intentions and motivations. 

You hoped he would be too in some other life, where the two of you could have a happy ending, instead of one where he leaves you behind in the dust at the start of the finish line with a love that he couldn’t hold steady. 

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[oikirstein]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 | 𝐤.𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚

PAIRING: tsukishima x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: You’re in your third year at Karasuno High, and have liked Tsukki for all of them, but after finally being in a relationship with him for the past six months, you realize his cold, careless demeanor, which you once fell in love with, was the same reason you were falling out.

CONTAINS: Angst (?)

WORD COUNT: 2,610

A/N: Anyway, this is my first time writing a char x reader one shot, so hopefully it isn't too dreadful to read. I wanted this one to be about Mr. Kei Tsukishima because the phrase “take it back” sounded angsty, and I have a burning hate towards him, so I thought it would be fitting.

Part two here.

Prompt from here.

Six months.

That’s how long you’ve been in a relationship with Kei Tsukishima, but is that how long you’ve practically been in love with him? Of course not. You’ve liked the blonde boy since your first year orientation, when you noticed how much he soared over the other students. Obviously his height wasn’t the only thing you liked about him. You adored the way he cared about his best friend, Yamaguchi. You found it hilarious when he picked on the other first years (and occasionally the upperclassmen as well). You were in awe of how he almost glowed at the end of a long game. You grew to love his stone cold face, which he wore so effortlessly and so undeniably well. You were fond of the way he’d get annoyed of his short golden curls tickling his forehead. You were desperately in love with every little thing about him. Who would’ve thought that over these past six months, those things that you found so much comfort in, would’ve also become the exact reason you were in the position you’re in now?

You had the grades, you had the looks, but most importantly, you had the boy. What more could you ask for?

It was January when Tsukki had seemed to have forgotten to walk you home—which you thought was strange since he’s walked home with you everyday for the past year and a half—but you made the excuse nonetheless. 

Maybe he’s just running a bit late. Maybe practice was taking longer than expected. Maybe he just lost track of time. Maybe—

Excuse upon excuse was running through your head as you sat outside the gym waiting for him, like you did every day you were together. You always asked him why you couldn’t just wait for him inside so you weren’t vulnerable to the elements (and so you could watch him practice).

“You’d only be a distraction,” is what he always said before walking away and leaving you all alone beyond the gym doors.

A forced smile spread across your face as you shrugged your shoulders and turned on your heels to sit on the bench near the vending machines. You wondered why he was so distant with you—no—you longed for a real answer. Was he trying to hide something within those concrete walls? You knew Tsukki had secrets that he kept from you, hell he hardly ever talked about the things that weren’t secrets, but to say you were shocked when you found out the secret he was keeping was you, was an understatement. Because that day, that special winter day, was the day the sky decided cry.

Your legs moved before your brain could think, and suddenly you were running towards the gym’s entrance, seeking refuge from the rain. The sounds of sneakers squeaking against the laminated hardwood floors, the echoes of volleyballs ricocheting off of walls and hands, the murmurs of huffing and puffing coming from the athlete’s chests—they all came to a halt as they stared at the girl who just interrupted their practice.

“Can we help you?” their captain, Yamaguchi, said with a smile and both hands resting on his hips.

“Oh um sorry. I was waiting for Tsukki outside and it started raining so I kind of just ran in here without thinking,” you giggled to hide your nervousness, but your shaky tone was still apparent.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi questioned.

“Yeah...” you trailed off thinking of what to possibly say. Tsukki wouldn't be very happy if he found out that you actually came into the gym and showed yourself in front of his teammates, but then again it’s not like he ever got upset about anything, “it’s just that me and my boyfriend usually walk home together and he still hasn’t come out.”

If according to routine, Tsukki typically would’ve been done with practice about two hours ago. At this time, It would usually be just Yamaguchi left alone with the first years, as he liked to spend extra time working with them and their skills.

“B-boyfriend?” the green haired boy almost couldn’t contain his laughter in his reply.

“Yes...” you tried to laugh with him, but the awkward tension in the air kept getting thicker and thicker.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, “it’s just that Tsukki’s never told us he had a girlfriend, or even liked anyone before.”

Oh. So that’s why he wanted to keep you out of the gym.

“Say, how long have you two been dating now?”

“A little over six months.”

His expression went a complete 180. What was once the look of light, friendly banter, was now riddled with fear, shock and a jaw nearly touching the floor.

“Oh my god,” Yamaguchi looked as if an apology was on the tip of his tongue, but before he could get the chance, you opened your mouth.

“Uh well since Tsukishima obviously isn’t here, I’ll just walk home myself. Thanks for the help Yamaguchi,” you hurriedly replied, one foot already out the door.

Step after step, the time it took between your strides became shorter and shorter, as you broke into a run, making your way towards home. Why would he keep you a secret from them? Why is he always so cold? Why does he always push you away? Why does he always tease you with that same monotone voice? Why did he not love you? 

You stopped mid-step as you took in your surroundings. You knew exactly where you were. This was the intersection where you and Tsukki would part ways. You debated: left or right? My house or his? Where should I go? 

You took a minute to think about which direction to take, when suddenly your phone rang. Pins and needles ran through your skin and a chill went down your spine as you read the caller ID.

“Tsukki”

You stared at the phone in shock, eyes wide, mouth agape, and skin turning paler by the second. He never called you first, so why start now? Ah. That’s right. Yamaguchi probably told him what happened.

“Hello?” you practically almost whispered.

“You went inside the gym today?”

“Uhm yes?”

“Why do you sound like you’re not sure,” his words said one thing, but his tone said another. Like he was trapped trying to scream in a place where the volume was muffled.

“Yes,” you said, more stern this time. Today was the day you were going to get answers.

“Why?”

“Take a fucking guess, Tsukki.”

Silence.

“I was waiting for you. Outside the gym. For four fucking hours,” you all but yelled into the phone.

“You could’ve just stayed outside.”

“Are you blind, four-eyes? Did you forget your glasses or something? Its raining!”

“Y/n,” he didn’t say your name often, maybe that's why it always had you so weak in the knees, “where are you right now?”

“Why?”

“Well you sound upset and it seems noisy in the background,” maybe he actually did care about you?

“The intersection.”

“Theres thousands of intersections in Miyagi, Y/N, try being a little more specific,” there it was, the passive aggressiveness he was so good at using.

“I know that, dumbass,” annoyance dripping from your lips, you tried getting across to him that you were fed up with his attitude, “the one where we always split up.”

“K,” was the only thing he uttered before you heard the dial tone.

Could he be on his way here? Did he want to talk to you? Did he want to see you?

One ounce of you. All it took was one ounce, one sliver of hope, for you to be waiting out here in the rain, not entirely sure if Tsukki was going to show up or not. You made a deal with yourself: if he wasn't here in the next fifteen minutes, you were leaving, and the two of you would be over. Right then and there, you hadn't realized that one of those things would have been inevitable anyway.

Five. Ten. Fourteen.

You cautiously watched the clock on your phone as your anxiety grew more and more intense with every passing minute.

There it was. Fifteen.

Some part of you must have known he wasn’t coming, because when the clock struck exactly fifteen minutes, you did not hesitate to get up and take the right to finally go home.

As you turned the corner, you heard the faint tap, splash, tap, splash, tap, splash, coming from behind, growing louder and louder the closer it got. You thought it was just a dog, or maybe some sweet, innocent child playing in the rain. Then you heard the volume of a voice you never thought you'd hear.

“Y/N!” Tsukki cried while running towards you, “Wait!”

You did not stop. You did not wait. Your steps did not waiver the way your breath hitched at the sound of your name. You continued on as if nothing was said at all.

Though this plan of yours didn’t work as you had forgotten one important factor: Tsukishima was an athlete. You forgot how fast he could run if he really wanted to...but maybe you wanted him to run after you? This was all you wished for after all. For once you wanted him to understand how it felt to chase after someone with no requiting in sight.

You didn't stop walking until you felt a heavy hand on your shoulder and an audible exhale against the nape of your neck.

“Why are you running away from me? I know you heard me,” he said, his monotone tone of voice almost slipping...was he...pleading?

You hadn’t turned around yet when you spoke, “You have some nerve asking me that,” you all but spat.

“W-what?” Oh so now he was stuttering? Was this even the same Tsukishima you fell in love with all those months ago?

You turned around so fast, you could have sworn he winced when his arm was violently whipped to the side.

“Isn’t that all you’ve been doing for the past six months?” You raised your voice—something you’ve never done in front of him before—but little did you know that this day was going to be full of firsts for you two, “Just look at today. You forgot about me. You didn’t tell your team about me. You barely even talk to me.”

“Wait, that’s not true—”

“Is it not? Your best friend didn't even know that you had a girlfriend,” you cut him off.

“Well if you would just shut the fuck up and let me explain you would know why I did all of that!” 

What a terribly heartbreaking sight: to see two young lovers yelling at each other in the rain. Tsukishima grabbed your wrist and turned around, making an effort to start walking in the opposite direction.

“Just follow me,” he sighed, putting his headphones on and dragging you along behind him.

You were tired—exhausted really. It was draining to be the only one putting in effort to stay together. You genuinely believed that if you stopped initiating, the two of you would fall apart. That’s probably the reason why only a mere whisper could be heard from your lips.

“Do you even like me?”

With the sound of the rain’s relentless smacking of the puddles on the floor and the music coming from Tsukki’s headphones, he wasn’t entirely sure if he heard you correctly, or if you had really said anything at all. Still, although his pace never faltered, he still felt a pang in his heart from your supposed words.

You used your free hand to ever so lightly tug on the hem of his shirt, and that’s when he realized you truly did utter those broken hearted words. It was like he nearly came undone at your touch.

“What?” he said as he slowly lowered his headphones to rest on his shoulders.

“I know you heard what I said,” suddenly the sky wasn’t the only thing crying that day, but unlike the heavens above, your tears were warm, livid, and came slowly down your face—inaudible to the human ear.

“Y/N—”

“It’s a simple yes or no answer, Tsukishima,” you said this despite already knowing the answer. He was either going to tell the truth or lie.

“Yes.”

He lied.

It was true: you had the grades and you had the looks, but life could not grant you the boy.

“Let’s,” your voice almost broke at the thought, but you kept yourself together for just a little longer, “break up.”

Tsukki swore his heart stopped beating for a second. Surely you weren’t serious.

“W-what? Why?” His voice was shaky and panicky—two things you wouldn’t dare associate with him.

“You’re smart! Do you need me to spell it out for you?” You looked up at him, eyes glossy from oceans spilling out of your lash line, and the sound of defeat flowing out of your throat. “I’m so tired of this whole relationship being one sided! Do you want me to start coughing up rose petals for you until I can’t breathe? Because surely I’m getting there.”

“Do you seriously think I don’t like you? I wouldn’t be standing here if I didn't care for you,” he half-screamed. Tsukki was offended that you’d doubt him, but he was the one who gave you every reason to.

“For the first time in six months—six fucking months—you came for me. Where was this attitude yesterday? Or the week before? Or months ago? The fact of the matter is,” you took a deep breath as to not unravel right then and there, “your heart is the one thing that will never be mine.”

You turned away from him and whispered, “So let’s just end this here, before any of us—before I—get hurt,” and you walked away. It wasn’t until you were out of earshot when Tsukki’s heart wrenching three words slipped from his mouth.

“Take it back,” he held his hand out for you, watching as your petite frame got smaller and smaller with every stride.

When you disappeared from view, he slowly turned around and slumped in his step. He went back home and dropped to his knees when he opened the door to the reminder of your absent presence. 

Why had he left early?

He planned a special surprise for you at his house for your six month anniversary. A banner, chocolates, roses, teddy bears, and all of your favorite movies. It took him all of six months to build up the courage to do something as heart warming as this—but unfortunately, he was six months too late.

Why was he so cold?

He knew that’s why you caught feelings for him. You told him all about how you fell in love with his distant demeanor. How you thought it was cute when he cringed at people trying to make conversation with him. He never changed because he thought that's what you wanted. After all, that is the reason you liked him, wasn’t it? Maybe he was just too inexperienced to recognized what you truly wanted—no—what you truly needed.

You see, Tsukishima was the type to love in silence, the way you did all those years ago. He left you love letters in your shoe locker, the ones you assumed to be from random secret admirers. He’d leave practice thirty minutes early so you wouldn’t have to wait for him too long. He’d make sure to shut anyone up who dared speak a single negative thing about you, because he too, was in awe of every single aspect you had to give.

Neither of you could have predicted that that unassuming day six months ago was truly the beginning of the end.

© all content [unless stated otherwise] belongs to oikirstein 2020. do not modify or repost.

reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

#ik i don't like tsukki but writing this kinda made me sad #hopefully its angsty enough #keitsukishima #tsukki #tsukishima x reader #reader x tsukishima #tsukki x reader #reader x tsukki #haikyuu #haikyuu one shot #haha fuck tsukki #gel scribbles

[ahgaseda]

pray | two

you are more than my existence, please listen to my prayer, hold me, tell me about myself, call my name so I can know who I am...

summary : everyone knows of the unspeakable evil that lives on the mountain, but you willingly sacrifice yourself to the demon named Jaebeom, as long as he takes you far away from the monster waiting for you at home.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, instances of blood and violence, graphic sexual content, black magic themes, potentially triggering elements that involve mentions of past child abuse, mental health, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

For the first few days, you returned to the border without fail. Waiting, but mostly hoping and praying that an entrance was made for you. It went without saying you navigated the edge of the forest, searching for the slightest break in the trees and thorns for you to slip inside. You were ready to endure any injury to be back where you belonged.

Of one thing you were certain - you hated Jaebeom. How he had taken everything from you. It was selfish and cruel, and you would never forgive him for it as long as you lived.

After weeks passed and the woods remained silent as the grave, wholly impenetrable, you finally surrendered. The last time you stood before the forest, you bid her a tender farewell.

You would give anything to know Jaebeom felt your pain, that he longed for you in his heart as much as you did for him. The woods must have been lonely.

Did you cross his mind at all? Even for just a moment?

A voice came from behind you, jeering, “And here she is again, staring at a wall of trees.”

“Hello, Gale,” you droned with disinterest.

A more arrogant and disdainful boy never existed than Gale. As a child, he often led the charge of children throwing rocks as you passed by. He always shouted the loudest when it came to how alone and pitiful you were.

But in more recent years, as you developed into a young woman, his gaze became less scornful and more filled with something worse.

He came to stand beside you, though his presence was unwanted, and spoke mischievously, “I can think of much better ways to occupy your time.”

“I’m sure you could,” you spoke, monotonous and uninterested.

Neither your body language or tone could dissuade him. “Everyone has advised me against my attraction to you,” he continued, moving even closer to your side.

You avoided his eyes and retorted, “For that I am eternally grateful.”

Gale ignored your response altogether and said, “They say you’re wild, untamed, and that you would not be a good, dutiful wife.”

Music to my ears, you mused, fighting back a grin. “They are absolutely right.”

Gale crept closer, until you could smell him, until you could feel his hot breath on the top of your shoulder. Your entire body bristled, wary.

“I spent a lot of time with horses, the kind we use for war, and I can assure you,” he whispered coldly. “Even the wildest of them can be broken into submission.”

You rounded on him, refusing to show him even the slightest of fear, and countered, “I’m not a horse. I’m a woman. And I would defy you with every breath in my body until the day I died.”

Gale’s lips broke into a broad smile and he cooed, “And that is what I desire about you.”

You rolled your eyes, parting from the border with a rush to your step. Gale was unnerving. There was malice in his eyes. He didn’t see you as a human, he made that abundantly clear. To him you were an animal, a trophy; something to own and mount on the wall.

He followed you closely, losing what little patience he had. “I would rather you accept my proposal willingly.”

You snorted and kept walking, exclaiming, “That was a proposal?”

“Yes,” he replied, puffing out his chest. “I want you for my wife.”

The mere thought set a bad taste on your tongue. You frowned, wrinkling your nose, and said, “I have no interest in having you as my husband.”

Angered, Gale grabbed your arm roughly and yanked you back, nearly knocking you off of your feet if not for how solidly he gripped you. “And do you think you will ever find better than me?” he shouted, leering over you.

You stared up at him in defiance and said, “I already found better than you and I loved him. And I can still taste his kisses.”

Gale blinked rapidly, shock fading into jealousy. “Is that so? Then, where is he? I do hope I’m invited to the wedding,” he sneered, mocking.

You bit your lip, eyes filling with tears at the memory of Jaebeom casting you out of the forest.

“You are an insane little thing,” Gale muttered, tightening his grip on your arms until you whimpered. “If not for how beautiful you are, I would never waste my time on you.”

At that, Gale released you harshly and skulked away, leaving you with your tears.

You turned a little, gazing solemnly at the forest in the distance. It was time to let go, time to move on. You would have to focus on self-preservation for the foreseeable future. And so you stopped visiting the border, forcing yourself to keep from looking in the woods’ direction.

On the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. It had been a year since you last saw Jaebeom.

Despite your sadness, your father would never allow you to spend a day in your room and you continued on as if it were any other Thursday. You sat at the table and picked at your breakfast.

Your father did little to hide his eagerness at the offers he received for your hand in marriage. He planned to build his small fortune on your back.

However, the current war waged between men had put a delay on the arranged marriage. And your father’s temper had never been worse.

He reached sharply across the table and grabbed your wrist, growling, “You had better make this man happy. I will hear nothing of you resisting his advances. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, father,” you spoke submissively. You knew nothing of the man he mentioned, only that he would soon own you.

There used to be more fire in you, but it had burned out. Every day felt as cold as the forest had been when she was taken from you.

Your father continued to rant, but his voice faded into the background. All you could think about was the kiss with Jaebeom on your last birthday. Your first kiss. And you shared it with a demon in the canopy of the forest, watching the sun go down.

There was nothing that could compare, nothing that could ease the pain of having lost your only friend on the same day you realized you were in love with him.

Commotion outside tore you from your melancholy thoughts.

Your father glanced through the window, brows stitching, and huffed irritably, “Damn kids harassing something again.”

That piqued your attention. You excused yourself and gathered your heavy skirt in your hands, hurrying outside to see what the rowdy neighborhood boys had found this time. Once you rescued a nest of eggs from their clutches. On another occasion you saved a fawn with an injured leg from their amusement.

This time, the boys were chasing a little black shadow and cornered it along the fence by the chicken coop. Only when you squinted and looked closer did you realize it was a baby panther.

“What is wrong with you?” you exclaimed, snatching a stick from one of the boys’ hands and slapping him over the head with it. “It’s just a baby, you brat!”

“Give it to me,” jeered another boy. “My father can make a little rug from its pelt.”

“I will skin you first if you touch it,” you threatened with a snarl, approaching the small beast delicately.

She seemed to sense your intentions and did not attempt to bite when you hoisted her up by the scruff. You cradled her in your arms, seeing she was female, and spoke soothingly to her.

The little cub wailed, starving for food.

The door to the nearby house burst open and a man wielding a knife yelled, “That little beast killed two of my chickens!”

Your eyes widened at the weapon he brandished and you knew the cub was about to suffer a brutal fate. You couldn’t stomach the thought and so you did what you had always done.

You ran.

The boys shouted with disappointment and called for their fathers. The man preparing to butcher the cub warned of punishment you would endure for blatantly defying him. Another voice, belonging to your father, broke through them all, demanding you stop dead in your tracks.

You listened to none, thinking only of the innocent beast in your arms. She gave no struggle, only gazed up at you with warm yellow eyes. For an animal, she seemed well-aware of the dire situation.

You ran until the border came in sight. Months had passed since you saw its thorns. They had not moved even an inch since the day you were barred from entry, but you had to try.

“You have to let me in,” you yelled with conviction. “I won’t let them kill her!”

The little cub mewled in your arms.

For a moment, you were met with only silence and your heart sank. Someone or something had weighed the scales and did not find in your favor. Tears filled your eyes and you whimpered, desperate.

Then, the forest groaned. It knew your voice, even after all this time.

The boughs shifted and the thorns parted. You were given the smallest of entries, enough space for one person as if you were a highly kept secret. You knew, thought it went unsaid, that the forest would certainly seal itself again in your wake, trapping you inside forever.

This was it.

You contemplated setting the cub at the edge and ushering her inside, but there was no one to feed or protect her. Then, you looked down at the cub and chuckled at your own hesitation. Your heart belonged in the forest and now you could finally return home.

You pressed inside, vanishing into the darkness.

After only a few steps, the thorns came alive again. No one would be able to follow you.

You cradled the cub close to your chest protectively and walked. You had no idea where to go, no thought of where you should go. You merely walked among the trees, breathing in the icy air that tickled your skin.

The forest had darkened. Light struggled to seep through the canopy. You could hardly see ahead and your breath appeared like smoke from your mouth. The cub noticed too and burrowed against your breasts for warmth.

“Don’t worry,” you cooed, exhaling heavily so your breath was manifest. “I’m a dragon.”

The joke may have amused you, but it was lost on the cub’s ears. She whined and hid her face in your arms with a mewl.

You pressed on, reaching the small clearing that once made your heart soar. The ground was brittle, the grass had died. A howl echoed amidst the darkness.

The forest had remained bound in winter for an entire year.

Rustling tickled your ears. The air chilled even more. Ice nearly formed on your lips and lashes. You shivered in place, hands turning numb. But you stood firm, knowing he had come.

Jaebeom descended from the shadows above and your heart jumped wildly in your ribcage. His feet touched the ground and his wings swept gracefully around him, coming to perch over his head.

“I told you,” Jaebeom warned through clenched jaws. “Never to come back here.”

You glared vehemently at him, how he could treat you with such frigid judgment. But you were quick to notice the year had not treated him kindly either. Darkness marred his beautiful, piercing eyes. Even more ink seemed to be branded across his chest. Despite the anger coursing through you, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him and melt the ice.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you murmured shakily, glancing down at the beast you had smuggled inside. “They wanted to slaughter this little cub.”

Jaebeom took a step closer, peering down at the ebony creature in your arms. She turned and with one look at him, hissed in defiance. You fought a grin, pleased at her reaction.

That was why the forest let you in, Jaebeom mulled with a frown. Your willingness to protect nature. The wood heeded his wishes, but he was also required to heed hers. It was a mutual, symbiotic relationship.

Though he cursed the forest in his mind for letting you inside, he knew she would hear no argument of sending you back.

Jaebeom moved closer, wings dragging the ground behind him. “Are you afraid, cheonsa?” he asked lowly, almost in intimidation.

You hardened your gaze and replied, “No.”

Jaebeom tilted his head and persisted, “But you know I’m a monster.”

You eyed the great horns on his head and scoffed. “You are no monster compared to them.”

Jaebeom came even nearer and you could hardly breathe. Winter had taken residence in his chest and was freezing everything around him. He reached out and stroked a thumb over your cheek. You sucked in a breath. Despite his cold, he carried the scent of a raging wildfire, destroying all in its path.

“If I steal you away, you will be my bride,” Jaebeom reminded, his voice almost like a song. “Can you fathom that - being the demon’s bride?”

You countered, “You can’t steal what is already yours.”

Jaebeom’s eyes flickered and he was tempted to smile. A year for you had been an eternity for him. It still perplexed him how he had been able to survive for so long without you. His wings arched, flaring out in display.

“You broke my heart, Jaebeom,” you whispered morosely. “You chose my life for me.”

Jaebeom nodded, apologetic though he dared not apologize. “Fate had other plans,” he replied gruffly.

“If not for the war, I would be married by now,” you told him with a foul taste in your mouth, then snorted. “It’s been a year. I would undoubtedly have a child as well.”

Jaebeom stuttered, imagining the great swell of your belly or the sight of a dark-haired newborn nursing at your breast. He could barely force out the question, “Do you… want children?”

For the past year, you had been forced to give the notion plenty of thought. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you replied softly, “If I have a child I want them to be from a place of love and passion. Not convenience or obligation.”

“I understand,” said Jaebeom with a nod, glancing down at the cub once more. The little thing promptly gave a high-pitched growl at him.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

Your cheeks flushed as you asked, “Is that what you want from me?”

“What?” Jaebeom exclaimed. “No.”

You searched his face in confusion and pressed, “Then, why do you have to take a bride?”

Jaebeom pursed his lips and spoke dryly, “The Master commands it.”

You shuddered when you realized who he was referring to and said, “He’s not here. Why do it?”

“As we age our magic grows,” Jaebeom explained, surprisingly patient. “That’s why the forest is saturated in black magic.”

You waited.

“We have to find someone, someone we can bond our souls with, or the magic will become too much. It will kill us.”

Your eyes widened. “You mean, I will bear magic?”

He gave a single nod. “Yes.”

Your imagination ran wild and you asked, “Will I grow horns or wings?”

“No, you will stay as you are, but the sun will not smile upon you any longer.”

You sighed, softening a little, “I will be doomed to live in the darkness. Just like you. That’s why you pushed me away.”

Jaebeom’s eyes shone with unshed tears and he reached to cup your cheek, desperate to feel your skin beneath his fingertips again. He pulled you close, lips mere inches from yours, and whispered, “I saw you in the sun. I could never bring myself to take that away from you.”

You set your jaw and replied, “They can keep the sun, but you stole away my light for a year. For what I thought would be the rest of my life.”

Jaebeom winced, hearing that pained him though he already knew it deeply. “I promise, I will spend every day until my last making it up to you.”

You fought a smile, lowering your head to hide the corners of your mouth lifting.

Jaebeom slipped his hand beneath your chin, tilting up until your eyes were on him again. “Well?”

You sang quietly, “The demon comes to take her away. On a bed of stars they will lay.”

Jaebeom smirked before finishing, “And never again will she see the light of day.”

You giggled. It should have come as no surprise he knew the songs your people sang of his kind.

A scream sharply pierced the forest, making your blood run cold. You whirled around, shuffling backwards in horror. Jaebeom wrapped his arms around your waist and steered you behind him.

“What is that?” you gasped. The cub in your arms stirred restlessly, terrified.

“The forest is wounded,” he told you angrily, charging forward. His great wings fanned out, bristling with aggression.

Gale stepped with purpose inside, sword glistening with the dew of trees and vines. He had cut and sliced an opening for himself in pursuit of you.

The moment Jaebeom came into view, Gale gripped the hilt with both hands and held it before himself, shouting, “Stay back, demon!”

Jaebeom was livid and snarled, “You dare bring steel inside this place?”

You molded yourself to his back, a hand on Jaebeom’s arm, and called incredulously, “Gale, what are you doing?”

Gale felt his blood boiling at the sight of you in a demon’s clutches and said, “I saw you run here. I know you’ve been entering the forbidden woods all along.”

Jaebeom snapped, “Be gone from here.”

“Like hell I will,” Gale retorted. “Do you think you can steal my fiancee?”

Jaebeom scowled, seething.

“Your what?” you blurted in disbelief. “Gale, I said I will never marry you!”

“Your father agreed.”

You stood there dumbfounded. It was your worst nightmare come true.

Jaebeom’s wings rustled, a testament to his fury - and his restraint.

Gale held out his hand and called your name. “Come. He won’t take you while I have a sword.”

Jaebeom grimaced, eyeing the weapon with nothing short of loathing.

You let your hand slip down Jaebeom’s arm, moving past him until he was behind you. Jaebeom didn’t stop you. He knew the choice was yours and he would have to live with whatever you decided.

“You said I was insane,” you told Gale, gazing down at the cub against your chest. “Maybe I am. But not nearly insane enough to marry the likes of you.”

Gale recoiled and his face tensed with rage. “You little bitch, come with me now. I bought you fair and square!”

You met his eyes and felt only sympathy. And after a pause, you said, “I am where I belong.”

Jaebeom moved faster than you thought possible, sweeping you in his arms and taking to the air with a forceful beat of his great wings.

Gale’s shouts and threats faded into the rushing of wind.

You gripped Jaebeom tightly, gasping for air and lost for words. The demon soared through the forest, branches moving from his path and birds singing his arrival. When he broke through the canopy, you gasped at the thick fog around you, the same clouds you remembered surrounding the mountain.

Jaebeom flew higher and higher. Your ears began to ring. Your breaths were labored. You had never been at such an altitude. The cub in your arms screamed its confusion.

With you in his arms, the demon burst through the clouds, alighting on a precipice of stone. You looked around curiously, gasping at the sight of a looming castle before you.

For a moment, you held Jaebeom tightly, peering over the crest of his shoulder. He rather liked the heat of your rapid panting on his neck and made no moves to set you down.

“Where are we?”

“Home,” Jaebeom replied softly.

“This is your home?” you asked, voice trembling from the flight as you gawked at the many turrets and towers.

“Our home,” Jaebeom whispered in your ear, nuzzling his face in your hair. The scent of you was overwhelming.

“And what about this little shadow?” you asked, leaning down to kiss the brow of your baby panther. She closed her eyes contentedly at your affection though her fur still stood on end from defying gravity.

Jaebeom lowered you to the ground, an arm wrapped around your waist until you found your balance. “She’s all yours,” he droned. “I’ll have no part in raising her.”

“Shadow,” you mulled to yourself, meeting the yellow eyes of your new companion. “I quite like that name.”

You placed the cub on the ground and she danced at your feet, following you dutifully as you walked with Jaebeom into the castle. The demon pushed open the double doors and you stepped into the endless stone foyer, the pitter-patter of your bare feet echoing down the walls.

“It’s massive,” you said, gazing up at the ceiling and spinning in a circle.

“Mostly unused,” Jaebeom told you blithely. “I tend to keep myself between the bedroom and the kitchen.”

You chuckled, twirling again. Little Shadow refused to part from your feet.

Jaebeom watched you with delight, but you would have never known given the lack of expression on his face. “That… human in the forest,” he began.

“Gale.”

Jaebeom clearly wanted more explanation than that and pressed, “He was your betrothed?”

You laughed. “No. Definitely not.”

Jaebeom still wasn’t satisfied. “He seemed to think so.”

You finally faced him and quipped, “Then, he is much crazier than he ever said I was.”

Jaebeom tilted his head, smiling slightly. “Do your people consider you insane?”

You beamed with pride. “Very much so.”

The demon chuckled.

You studied him, approaching him with purpose in your step, and began, “All of my betrothals fell through. Men were ready to pay for ownership of me. Did you have something to do with their failures?”

Jaebeom shrugged and replied, “Men are preoccupied with the war between realms.”

You cocked a brow. “And how would you know that?”

“I have prayed every day since you left that the war would never end,” Jaebeom told you solemnly.

Folding your arms, you shot back, “I didn’t leave. I was cast out.”

Jaebeom felt his heart clench and hardened his gaze. He reached out and took your hand, bringing it to his lips for a chaste kiss. “And how long are you going to hold that against me?”

You smiled up at him and smarted, “For as long as it pleases me.”

Jaebeom wanted to chuckle. His heart was spinning, dancing in circles. Every moment you stood there before him he found it harder and harder to breathe.

When he woke up this morning, he had no idea you would be with him.

But here you were, the brightest of smiles on your lips, traveling up to your glistening eyes. Jaebeom was hopelessly drowning in his feelings for you.

You blushed when he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His bare chest was hot beneath your fingertips and you wanted to trace the pattern of one of his many tattoos.

“Do you accept me as your husband?”

You stared up at him, the grin making your cheeks hurt, and replied with a single nod, “I do.”

Jaebeom ran his thumb over your bottom lip, studying you intently. “Come with me then,” he beckoned with a low voice.

“Where?”

“To bed,” he replied bluntly, taking your hand and leading you beside him.

Your eyes widened and you asked curiously, “Are you trying to bed me without a wedding?”

He looked over his shoulder. “When I said make you my bride…”

“Oh, I see,” you said, planting your feet and letting your hand slip from his grasp. “I want something more binding.”

Jaebeom stopped, pivoting on his heels to face you, and his wings shuddered with excitement. “There is nothing more binding than me claiming you as my own.”

You found your resolve and reminded him, “Once upon a time, I offered myself to you.”

Jaebeom paused, heart heavy, and murmured, “I remember.”

Your lip trembled. “You made me feel unworthy.”

Jaebeom asserted, “I was the one that wasn’t worthy.”

You sighed. There you stood in the castle of a demon, about to become his bride for all eternity. You had prayed and wished for freedom and protection all your life, and he would forever be your lighthouse in the storm.

One day you would let go of your anger.

“I fully intend to surrender my virtue to you, Jaebeom,” you told him. “But first, I want marriage.”

Jaebeom wrinkled his nose. “Hmph.”

“And a wedding,” you added, at this point resorting to humor to relieve the tension you caused.

“Fine,” he said shortly.

“It can be just us,” you continued, slipping back into his embrace and wrapping your arms around his waist. “And someone obviously to perform the ceremony. Whatever you desire.”

Jaebeom roamed his hands to rest on your hips and his great wings moved instinctively around you, shielding you from invisible dangers. “My only desire is you…,” he finally revealed. “And whatever makes you happy.”

You batted your lashes. “I would not be opposed to a white dress, if you happen to have one.”

Jaebeom exhaled loudly, searching his thoughts for where in hell’s name he could find one. “I need to send a few letters.”

At that, his hands slipped free of your body and he began striding down the hall.

You followed him eagerly, hot on his heels, and asked with excitement, “Does this mean we will fly again?”

Jaebeom turned, brows furrowed. “No,” he replied flatly, pushing a door open and pointing inside. “Stairs.”

“How boring,” you whined, proceeding forward.

The two of you appeared in one of the higher towers, a turret with glassless windows. Ravens congregating inside squawked at your sudden arrival, but quieted at the sight of their fellow winged creature.

Jaebeom took small rolls of paper on the nearby table and began scribbling with a narrow piece of charcoal. You watched in silence as he prepared six brief letters, tucking each into the ankle band of a crow and sending it out into the sky.

“Ravens,” you thought aloud. “We use doves.”

“Doves have very small attention spans and even smaller brains,” Jaebeom deadpanned.

You giggled.

Returning to the main hallway from the tower, Jaebeom said, “Come along. I will show you to your room.”

“My room?” you questioned in pleasant surprise.

Jaebeom held out his arm and you looped yours in the crook of his elbow. “Assuming you won’t come to bed with me until we’re married, it would be poor manners to put you in my room.”

You chuckled. “I see.”

He escorted you to a door and explained, “This is the only spare bedroom that gets any use. My fellow demons sometimes stay here when they come to this side of the forest.”

You nodded to let him know you understood.

Jaebeom pushed the door open and ushered you inside.

“Oh,” you gasped, eyes widening at the scale of your room. Massive windows graced the far wall, curtains blowing lightly in the breeze. The bed lay in the center, on a raised platform, and a canopy of white gossamer material gathered overhead, tied to each of the bedposts.

Your vision darted to the desk along the wall, littered in writing materials. Then, you looked to the bookshelf and quaint reading nook, wanting to throw yourself on the velvet chaise and feel its warmth.

Shadow bolted inside, nearly colliding into your legs, and began to survey the room for herself. You giggled at her joy, following after the baby panther and plopping down on the side of the bed.

Jaebeom struggled to hide his smile more than ever, but his pale face stayed constant. He proceeded to say his goodbyes, allowing you to get settled with privacy.

“Jaebeom,” you called, before he could shut the door.

Jaebeom stuck his head back in and asked, “Yes?”

You gripped the side of the bed, your legs hanging and unable to touch the floor, and hoped he would sate your curiosity. “Do demons really steal away only the most beautiful of mortal women for their brides?”

Jaebeom bobbed his head. “Those of us doomed to live among mortals have no other choice. The Master keeps all she-demons in Hell with him.”

You blinked. “Oh.”

Jaebeom shifted his weight, his wings curling to his back almost in embarrassment as he continued, “We aren’t like your kind. No demon forces a woman into bed with him.”

You had tried to veil the question, but clearly he had realized what you were after and his answer put you at ease.

“We mate for life. Whoever we give ourselves to is our mate until we die. We need them to want us.”

You stood, approaching him somberly. “Am I free to leave? If there ever came a time…”

Though you had accepted him, Jaebeom understood you would want reassurance that you weren’t a prisoner in his castle. “I could not stop you,” he said, tender.

“Even if I am your mate?”

“Then, I would go the rest of my life with half of me missing.”

That’s right, you remembered. He said you would bear magic. “It sounds intense,” you told him. “So final.”

Jaebeom snorted. “We demons tend to live in extremes. Very dramatic, the lot of us.”

Heat flushed your cheeks when you asked shyly, “Would you prefer to have a demoness as your mate?”

Jaebeom shrugged. “I’ve never laid eyes on one.”

You looked down bashfully, tucking hair behind your ear, and mumbled, “I’m sure they’re far more beautiful than I am.”

Jaebeom felt his hands twitching with the urge to take you in his arms again as he whispered, “Nothing in this world or beneath it is more beautiful than you are.”

You lifted your head, gazing up at him while your heart fluttered.

“I’ve said too much,” Jaebeom huffed, gliding back to the door. “Rest now, cheonsa.”

“Why do you call me that?”

He paused, then teased, “It means… clumsy one, in my mother tongue.”

Somehow, you knew that wasn’t true.

Turning back to your room, you grinned and danced on your toes. It was a far cry from your little cot in the attic of your father’s house. Shadow whined at you, curling comfortably on the bed.

But you couldn’t sleep. Excitement raced violently through your veins. You smiled until you covered your face with your hands. Despite having no wings on your back, you swore you could fly.

Here you were, stepping into a new life; one you had always dreamt of, but could never reach.

As you lay on your back in bed, comforted by the crisp night air slipping past your curtains and into your sheets, you thought of Jaebeom. Your mind was consumed with memories of him.

You licked your lips, thinking of his broad chest and muscled arms. He had felt so strong when he carried you through the forest, as if you had been weightless. You imagined it must take endless restraint to keep from breaking you.

Your pulse quickened as you thought of your kiss beneath the trees, how carefully he had laid you on a bed of grass. How gentle his caresses and touches had been.

You tossed and turned a last time before giving up. Such a fool, you thought. As much as you had longed for Jaebeom, every moment of every day for the past year, to be sleeping in the room across the hall from him.

Smirking, you sat up in bed, looking to the baby panther asleep on one of the pillows. You gave her chin a scratch and sang, “Stay here, little Shadow.”

The door to Jaebeom’s room creaked no matter how slowly you pushed it open and you winced. To your relief, the figure in bed did not stir. Tiptoeing closer, you marveled his wings and how they tucked to his body like armor whilst he slept.

You pushed aside the wisp of curtains hanging from his bedframe and climbed onto the mattress, propping yourself over him. How beautiful he was, you thought. You were green with envy at the length of his lashes.

Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his with the most innocent of kisses.

His eyes slowly opened. Clearly he had not been asleep.

“Why are you…” Jaebeom began.

“I changed my mind,” you interjected.

He cocked a brow. “About?”

You straddled his hips and pulled the nightgown over your head, revealing your naked body for the first time.

Jaebeom swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes on your breasts before returning to your face. “No wedding?” he asked, more so for your benefit.

“Yes, wedding and the white dress,” you said levelly. “Tomorrow.”

Jaebeom brought his hands to your thighs, caressing his way to your hips and waist. Then, he confessed like a solemn vow, “All I’ve thought about is you. Every waking moment is you. Every dream I dream is of you.”

You felt tears in your eyes and whispered, “Kiss me, Jaebeom.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Jaebeom sat up, ensnaring your body in his arms and molding his lips to yours. You held his face in your hands, kissing him back with desire before raking your fingers through his dark hair.

Jaebeom rose with you in his arms, guiding your legs to lock around his waist. His massive wings were daunting as they shrouded protectively over you. They shuddered and rustled with arousal, restless.

You slipped your hands through his locks and gripped his horns, feeling their ridges from base to tip. They were sharp, no surprise there, but Jaebeom seemed to feel nothing.

His wings were entirely different. The moment you touched where they connected to his shoulders, the wings came alive, fluttering. You danced your fingertips through his feathers, pleased at the way Jaebeom’s breaths staggered out as you kissed and touched him.

When you had your fill, you took his hand, fingers covered in black script, and brought it to your mouth, pressing kiss after kiss to his knuckles.

Jaebeom returned your affection, lingering his lips on the curve of your neck, trailing kisses to your collarbone and the swell of your breast. His hand slipped from your grasp and his palms roamed your body, drawn to the softness of your skin. You let out a small whimper when his thumbs rolled over your nipples.

Finally, he tightened his arms around you and asked, “Are you sure?”

You gave him a nod. “Yes.”

Jaebeom pressed his lips to your chest, squarely over your heart. The brands appeared, flesh-colored. Not stark black like his. The markings blended in with your skin.

You clenched your teeth and hissed. The burn of his branding was not painful, but the searing heat took you by surprise. You relaxed when you realized you were in no discomfort.

Then, you tipped your head back and moaned softly. Magic was coursing through your veins, from the tips of your fingers to the soles of your feet. White hot fire pulsed from your heart, like you were consumed in flames.

Jaebeom pulled back, gazing down at his handiwork. The script was in his mother tongue, which one day he hoped you would speak fluently with him. The magic would seep into your bones, living inside you until you both returned to the earth.

“The first of many,” Jaebeom growled, eager to see more brands spread from the anchor across your heart.

You smiled down at him, reaching for his naked chest to trace your fingertips over winding letters that lined his muscles.

Jaebeom cradled your face, running a thumb over your cheek affectionately. You couldn’t part your gaze from his eyes for even a moment.

“Please be gentle,” you whispered shyly.

Jaebeom tugged you down, kissing your lips. Then, his hand parted from your face and landed on your naked breast. “You will never know pain from me, my love,” he growled, kneading your mound. “Only pleasure.”

You swallowed thickly, desperate to kiss him again.

Jaebeom gathered you in his arms and turned, laying you softly on your back and making a place for himself between your thighs. His great wings arched and splayed, hiding you within.

His wings shuddered as he made love to you, like the ecstasy of your body unhinged them. You would never forget how it felt to be one with him, how he not only filled you, but made you overflow. And Jaebeom would never forget how you cried out his name when he found release in you.

Never had you been more satisfied. Every ache in your body was gone, never to return. The longing in your soul had dissipated. You were completely whole. All of your life you had been running and searching.

Finally, you were home.

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#got7 fanfiction #im jaebum #got7 smut #jaebum smut #got7 #im jaebum smut #got7 fanfic #got7 fic #got7 au #im jaebum fanfiction #jaebum fanfiction #jaebum scenario #got7 scenario #jaebum au #got7 imagine #jaebum imagine

[hotchscotchh]

Are We On a Date Right Now?

Hi! This is my first time writing anything that’s not for a grade hehe That being said, I would really appreciate any and all feedback :) I wasn’t exactly sure where to start with this so I took a prompt that I found in a post by @wishiwasanavenger-archive​ . I think I might write a few more oneshots with these prompts.

Prompt: “Are We On a Date Right Now?”

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Mentions of child abduction, fluff

Word count: 1.7k

Read on AO3

Sequel

It had been a long case. Four children had been abducted from the same street, leaving the team to deal with four extremely emotional sets of parents who meant well, but got in the way of the investigation.

They got lucky this time, though. Well, lucky may not be the right word. The kids were alive, families reunited, but the lasting damage on those kids… It was too much for Spencer to think about. These cases always got to him, more so after finding the truth about Riley Jenkins.

Hotch looked up from his work to check on his teammates. He always felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility for them, no matter where they were. Especially Reid. He noticed Spencer staring into space out the jet window, looking as if a light breeze might push the tears from his eyes. Hotch knew that Spencer often retreated into himself after a difficult case such as this, and it would result in Spencer refusing to reach out to anyone and him harboring his emotions. This meant someone would have to reach out to him.

Hotch slid out of his seat and into the one opposite Spencer. Looking at the man in front of him, he couldn’t believe that this is what had come of the kid Gideon had brought him. “Reid,” he whispered, trying to get his attention without waking any of his sleeping teammates. Reid startled and made eye contact before looking away and wiping the tears from his eyes. Hotch had every intention of starting a conversation with Reid and working through this issue on the spot, but when he went to speak, all that came out of his mouth was “come to dinner with me tonight.” Spencer looked up at his boss with wide eyes, surprised at the request, and nodded, not trusting that his voice wouldn’t break if he spoke. Hotch smiled at him and relaxed back into his seat.

-----

The jet landed at 3 am, but Aaron had every intention of holding true on his plans with Spencer. Once they were both settled in the front of Hotch’s SUV, heat all the way up because December in Virginia is cold, Aaron asked Spencer where he wanted to go for dinner. “There’s this super good Indian restaurant. It’s a little ways away, but it’s open 24 hours and they have amazing chicken tandoori. If that’s ok with you, of course,” he had replied, blushing. Aaron knew of the place Spencer was talking about, he had heard him talking to Seaver and Morgan about it a few weeks before, and immediately looked it up. Hotch decided tonight sounded like a wonderful night to be eating Indian at 3 am and smiled and put the car in reverse in lieu of responding.

Reid rambled about who knows what the whole way to the restaurant, and Hotch just smiled. He loved hearing Spencer ramble happily, it always seemed like the man was completely in his element. When they stopped at a stoplight Hotch finally looked over at Spencer and decided that maybe watching was better than just listening. It was in that moment that Hotch realized that this little crush he had on his subordinate may be getting out of hand.

Entering the restaurant, Hotch held the door open for Reid, telling him to find them a seat, he would order for them. Reid smiled back at him shyly, looking please that Hotch knew him well enough to be able to place their order without asking what he wanted. Hotch stepped up to the counter and placed an order for two servings of chicken tandoori, assuming that if it was good enough for Spencer, it was good enough for him. He looked around to find Reid, deciding that if he didn’t start their conversation about the case now, he probably wouldn’t.

Sitting down, he looked at Reid and said, “talk to me.” “About what,” Spencer replied attempting to appear as if he had no idea what his boss was talking about. Aaron gave him a look that said that Spencer should know exactly what he meant, and he did. He just wasn’t sure if he was ready to talk about it. Spencer finally heaved a sigh and broke their eye contact, having lost the intense stare down that had begun between them. “I’m not exactly sure what bothers me so much about these cases,” he began. “It’s not like I’ve been through anything that allows me to relate to the victims, nor do I have any children of my own to imagine in their place. I don’t know what the reason is Hotch, but I do know that these cases take so much out of me that I can’t let myself feel right now or I’m going to break down.” Hotch vaguely heard their order number being called in the background. He waited until Spencer made eye contact with him again and silently stood, motioning for Spencer to follow him. He grabbed their order and walked out. After securing their food in the back seat of the car, he rounded the front of it coming around to stand in front of Spencer. Spencer was beginning to worry that he had said something wrong when Hotch pulled him into a bone crushing hug, placing his hand on the back of Spencer’s neck. “Let go, Spencer. You can feel. I’m not going to judge you for breaking down. It’s okay to be upset, you don’t always need to have a reason. These cases get to all of us, whether we are able to relate to them or not. Children are so innocent, they do no wrong, but these monsters still do unthinkable things to them. Remember that we are the ones that have the privilege of hunting the bastards and putting them in jail. It’s okay to be upset.” It was then that Spencer finally hugged Hotch back, holding onto him as if he were the only thing anchoring him to this reality, succumbing to his tears.

----

After that night, Aaron realized that Spencer rarely let himself feel like that. He didn’t allow himself to let out the pent-up feelings of anger, grief, and sorrow for the victims of these cases. He decided that he had to be the one to help him let them go. Shared meals became a regular thing for them. They made a habit of going out for lunch together at least once a week and going to dinner to talk things through after particularly rough cases. Hotch even made an effort to invite Spencer to do things with him and Jack, like going to the museum, or the zoo. Aaron could tell that Reid appreciated having an excuse to not be locked up by himself in his apartment, and Jack loved having a walking encyclopedia and his own personal magician.

Once Saturday evening, Aaron decided that he was going to attempt to let Spencer know his feelings. He sent a text saying, “Dinner tonight? Just you and me. No work talk.” Spencer had replied, “That sounds absolutely wonderful. Pick me up at 7?” “I’ll be there.”

----

Spencer was buttoning his dress shirt when he heard a knock at the door. He had decided that for tonight he wanted to dress more casually than he usually did. Even on his outings with both Aaron and Jack he had opted to wear his usual work clothes. But tonight was different. Aaron had said no work talk. So that meant casual. Spencer had spent a long time thinking about what he was going to wear. He even considered calling Penelope or JJ for advice, but he knew they would demand to know where he was going and with who. He wasn’t sure he was ready to tell them about this yet. He wasn’t even sure he knew what “this” really was. In the end, he settled on a lavender dress shirt with the top few buttons left undone and the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of pressed black slacks. He looked at himself in the mirror one last time before taking a deep breath and going to open the door. When the door was fully opened and he got a good look at his superior, they were both breathless. Hotch was dressed in a similar fashion, his usual work getup without the tie and suit jacket. Aaron caught himself staring and looked up to catch Spencer’s eye. “Good evening,” he greeted with a smile. “Ever the gentleman,” Spencer replied, stepping out of the doorway and allowing Aaron to lead him outside. “Where are we going tonight?” “That’s for me to know, and you to inevitably guess five minutes into the drive there,” Aaron answered, feigning annoyance.

----

Aaron was right, Spencer did guess. And he was right, of course. Aaron had decided to take him to a small intimate Italian place that Rossi had recommended. When they got there, they talked about anything and everything, except work of course, ranging from JJ’s pregnancy to the topic of the newest paper Spencer was working on. After their meal, they ordered desert. There was a moment after they ordered where the two of them sat in a comfortable silence, contentedly making eye contact, when Aaron rested his hand on top of Spencer’s. Spencer began to move his hand under Aaron’s, and for a brief moment, Aaron had begun to think he made the wrong move. However, Spencer was merely moving his hand to lace his fingers with Aaron’s. “Aaron,” Spencer started. “Spencer,” Aaron replied when Spencer didn’t say anything else. Spencer looked up from their joined hands and said, “Are we on a date right now?” “I sure hope so,” was Aaron’s reply.

----

When Aaron walked Spencer up to his apartment that night, they stood before the door holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes (which they obviously knew was a very cheesy cliché). Aaron brought his hand up to cup Spencer’s cheek and glanced down at his lips before looking back into his eyes and saying, “can I kiss you?” And the only answer Spencer could manage was “please.”

#Aaron Hotchner #Spencer Reid #Aaron Hotcher x Spencer Reid #Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid #Hotchreid #Criminal minds #TW mentions of child abuse #im actually really proud of this #one shot #are we on a date right now #cliche #fluff #a little angst if you squint

[kessielrg]

[Kingdom Hearts] Old Habits, New Reasons

Summary: Three times in which Namine shies away from social functions just to draw, and the one time someone joined her. [oneshot][character study][NamiXi if you really wanna squint][also Namiku if you squint a little less]

Rating: K

Word Count: 3,469 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

Their question had thrown Namine off slightly. She sheepishly looked down at her small sketchbook as if it could answer the question for her. The white page stared back at her in silence.

A part of Namine knew this would happen eventually. There was always that fear that someone would follow her, ask her what she was doing, and then tell her to rejoin the others. But that wasn't what they were asking, was it? They wanted to know why she was drawing. It was a simple question, and it was a bit odd that someone would have lugged a caboodle of art supplies with them to a banquet.

"Well?" the other girl asked. "Is there someone who would get mad you're drawing, even if you did it around your friends?"

"I don't think so." Namine decided, slowly. "But sometimes... it's just easier to draw without other people around you. And sometimes, when people find out that you're good at something, they make you do that something for them. It's not very fun."

"Do you always leave to draw, though?"

At first, Namine wanted to disagree with all her heart. But in introspection, it was more of a vice than she cared to admit. She loved drawing, but didn't like others watching her as she did it. When did that happen, she wondered. That didn't used to be the case...

"Sometimes." Namine finally said. She held her sketchbook a bit tighter before adding, "But only on certain occasions."

"Like?"

Namine looked over at the other girl with curiosity. She was greeted with a look just as inquisitive as her own. Maybe even more so. There was a genuine interest; that much was certain. Maybe there was a budding artist in their midst?

"Well..." she carefully said, moving her sketchbook a bit to flip through the earlier pages, "There was this one time..."

. . .

It was a small comfort that, while she wasn't a Keyblade wielder herself, the others considered her when they all got together. She still made sure that her presence didn't disturb anyone. Being quiet and observant was Namine's most reliable vice. That, and drawing. There wasn't much else she knew how to do. Her time as a Nobody barely ranged a year, and after that she was placed safely inside Kairi's heart until recently. Being a Somebody was... confusing, to say the least.

Being asked to join in on a slumber party with Kairi and Xion had been a surprise- perhaps even more so because Master Aqua herself gave her the invitation. Namine certainly didn't expect it to take place in the Land of Departure either. The world seemed far too grand to her -far too important in the history of Keyblade wielders- that it could be used for anything beyond a training arena. She was proven wrong after entering the Great Hall with Kairi. Aqua had given them a spot in front of the thrones, already decorated with sleeping bags for all four of them and a small assortment of snacks.

"I've never got to have a proper slumber party before, since it was me and Terra for most of our childhoods." Aqua admitted at some point. "Feels weird having one with you guys now. I feel like a mom."

It was Xion who, without skipping a beat, cheerfully declared, "And you're the best one I'll never have!"

"Xion!" both Aqua and Kairi declared, each with their own level of bewilderment. Namine only offered a stifled laugh. So proud at their reactions, Xion gave them all a smile so big, it almost rivaled Sora's.

After that, they started to talk about various things since they all met together. Apparently everyone's training was going rather well. Kairi was beginning to get a handle of second tier elemental magic, while Xion was working on personal techniques on and off for the past week. It was around this time that Namine politely excused herself from the others. They had been so caught up in their conversation that they didn't even notice.

Namine went to where she and Kairi had placed their personal things to find her caboodle. The caboodle was a neat little box with drawers that opened the same time she opened the lid. She was able to put all her art supplies in it. Most of them, anyway- her normal sketchbook was too large to fit. Instead, she used a smaller pad that was placed where the mirror in the caboodle was. Once Namine made sure she had everything, she carefully found a spot far enough away from the others so she could draw them. It honestly wasn't very far, but it was still far enough away that the other three didn't really notice her. That was fine. If anything, it was perfect.

The sounds of the others almost masked the sound of her pencil against paper. Spending most of her life locked away with nothing but drawing to distract her gave Namine a slight skill in speed drawing. However, she took her time when she started to work on her friends. She wanted as much detail as she could.

But she didn't bother to sketch her own sleeping bag. She tried to tell herself that it was because it ruined the composition. But deep down she knew it was because she didn't fit with the others, and so it didn't need to be included.

Namine finished her drawing without the others ever knowing she was gone. She placed everything back in her caboodle, then went back as Kairi went into a long story about Tidus and Wakka back on the islands. It was nice; the sounds of friendship. Namine had been the first to go to sleep that night.

. . .

At first, the only response she got was a quiet, "Oh..."

"It was a really fun time!" Namine quickly insisted. "And it really was a treat to be included."

"But you drew yourself out."

Namine flinched slightly. "It worked out better that way. From the angle I was at, it would have looked weird because I had the really light sleeping bag, and everything was so dark anyway..."

The other girl only looked more guilty.

"Do you still have the picture?" she wondered.

"I think so." Namine agreed. She adjusted herself so she could better go through her sketchbook before flipping through the earlier pages. "Here," she then offered as she handed it over.

There was a small hum as the other ran her fingers over the drawing. Namine had made deliberate choices in lighting around the three Keyblade wielders- light coming off of them as if they were lighting up the whole room. If you looked ever closer, you could see the detail of the castle's floor, and even make out the silhouettes of the three thrones in the background.

"Does anyone know that you go somewhere away from everyone to draw?" the other girl asked, handing the sketchbook back to Namine.

Namine gave a fond, almost bashful smile.

"There is someone..."

. . .

"There's a lot of people here." Namine noted as she tried to look over the crowd. Riku wasn't making the same amount of effort. Instead, he just casually looked on with a hand at his hip. Curse him being a full head taller than she was.

"Aqua said that Disney Town holds the Dream Festival every year." Riku agreed with a small nod. "Can't be that easy since Queen Minnie has almost been reigning the kingdom alone for the past few years. The effort is definitely amazing though."

Namine agreed with a nod and a small noise of affirmation. Disney Town looked absolutely splendid for the festival. All the colors, and the smells, and the energy was enough to put anyone in a good mood. The grip Namine had on her caboodle tightened slightly. A frown crossed her lips as she considered that there might have been too much commotion. There wasn't a good place to just sit and zone out without some kind of noise maker going off.

Riku must have noticed this. He looked over at her, and quickly saw her firm grip on the caboodle's handle.

"Are you sure you don't want to leave that in the Gummi Ship?" he asked. He even made a mild gesture to the box, which only made Namine hold it closer to her.

"No. I'm going to use it." Namine insisted. "I just... I just need someplace a bit more quiet..."

Riku nodded. He looked up again to see that Queen Minnie had taken the stage. The queen looked as beautiful as always in her formal pink and red ballgown. The jewels on her crown glittered under the multicolored overhead lights. Everyone cheered at seeing her- the love and admiration they had for their leader was enough to be felt from miles away. Minnie was a good queen, there was no contest about that.

As Minnie tried to settle the crowd down so she could speak, Riku bent down a bit to quietly tell Namine something.

"There's a sewage grate somewhere behind us. If you take it, there's a gizmo that will lead you up to one of the buildings overlooking the racetrack. Don't know about you, but a good aerial shot might be something to capture for later."

Namine grinned. "Thank you Riku." she said before giving him a small peck on his cheek. The young Keyblade master's face gleamed with a humble blush as he stood tall again, almost as if he had never moved at all. Namine laughed a bit at it before leaving.

Finding, and getting into, the grate had not been an issue. It did take her awhile to navigate the gizmo, though. But it was all worth it once she got to the top of a particular building. Namine let out a soft 'Oh...' of wonder as she sat down near the edge facing the racetrack. Riku was right- this was a good place to work. If only she was able to use larger sketch paper in her travelling kit.

When she was finished, Namine very quickly tried to find Riku again. She shouted his name after spotting him. He barely had time to turn around before she proudly displayed her new drawing to him.

"Do you think Queen Minnie will like it?" she asked, rather breathlessly.

Riku looked at her before looking down at the drawing. He put on a wide smile before telling her, "She's going to love it. It's perfect."

. . .

That story had brought about a rather brighter mood in the other girl.

"Did Queen Minnie like the drawing?" she asked. "You did give it to her after the festival, right?"

A sense of pride welled in Namine's heart, leading her to sit a bit straighter. "She loved it." she grinned. "She immediately had the brooms take it to the gallery to be expanded and mounted. You should have seen the look on Riku's face. He was as proud as I was, and probably more surprised!"

"I could only imagine." the other girl laughed. "Oh!" she then said, "Have you ever gone someplace with a view so nice that you just couldn't replicate it no matter how hard you tried? It's hard to recreate any atmosphere, in my opinion. I wanna know if you ever tried to as well."

Namine let out a soft hum as she thought about it. She let out a small noise of realization when it came to her.

"I did once before, yes." she agreed. "Since Kairi's parents don't mind me staying with them, I was able to join her, Riku, Wakka, Tidus, and Selphie to a beach party they had. It was still summer vacation, if I remember correctly. And Tidus really wanted to have a girls versus boys match..."

. . .

"Head's up!" Tidus shouted before serving the volleyball over the net.

"Cheater!" Selphie shouted back as Kairi managed to spike the ball back. Tidus only gave a rather sinister cackle back. However, at that point, no one was able to break their concentration just to smack talk each other.

Namine watched as Kairi and Selphie worked against Tidus and Riku in a rather well matched volleyball tourney. Wakka wasn't too far away- he had lost a bet earlier and had to make food for everyone. The smell of pineapples and fish hung in the air. It was the warmth of the midday sun that Namine loved the most. The feeling enveloped its way around her like a comforting hug. She let out a soft sigh as she got a bit more comfortable.

The sudden urge to draw made her fingers twitch.

This wasn't a good spot for it, though. She was too close to the others for anything but sand to get onto the paper than color. As much as she loved watching the volleyball match, it was still a bit too distracting. Namine started to get up and casually looked around for a better spot to draw. It didn't take long for her eyes to train to a crow's nest not far from the shore. It was part of a large treehouse that seemed to encompass the island. She looked back at her friends for a moment before quietly leaving them. If anyone noticed she was going, they certainly didn't question her about it.

After getting herself situated at the higher point, Namine found herself gaping at the scene below her. Her friends happily playing on the beach, the light reflections off the water, and even the island holding the paopu tree providing a view so beautiful, so rich, that she wasn't even aware that she was opening her caboodle at first. Seeing the Destiny Islands through Sora's heart was nothing compared to the real thing. Was it possible just to freeze time here and let everything else wash away? She smiled a bit to herself. She did have a way to freeze time, in a way.

The only unfortunate thing was that she wouldn't be able to capture it all. She couldn't encapsulate the smell of the sea, or the sounds of Tidus demanding the girls had leverage over him for some reason. She gave a small smile as she continued to work. Most of her effort was spent trying to reflect the sea around them. A certain impatience came over her as she carefully did each detail. You always had to start with the big stuff, then go down smaller. She was just so eager to capture this moment, anyway she could, that she was always picturing this drawing when it was done.

Namine had to force herself to stop after an hour. Her hands were starting to hurt, and her stomach was growling for food. She cracked her knuckles, barely relieving the tension in them, before putting her stuff away. There would always be time to clean the picture up later. For now, she needed to rejoin her friends.

. . .

And so, we were brought back to our initial setting- the banquet in Radiant Garden.

Namine had thought at first that this would be the perfect opportunity to work on drawing food. But the actual banquet itself had a lot more activity than she was anticipating. There were too many people at the tables to have space to stand at for a few minutes, and she had tried to get a plate for herself to take elsewhere- the allure of delectable aromas wouldn't let her go far without wolfing everything down. So she decided to get a higher view.

To her luck, there was a balcony overlooking the main area. It wasn't blocked off or anything, so Namine quietly crept her way to the top. She found a place to carefully overlook the area and found herself at awe. Even if she was aware that someone was behind her, she probably wouldn't have known it at first.

"Namine!" a voice suddenly said in surprise. Namine jumped a good foot before turning her attention to the newcomer. She relaxed a little when she found it was just Xion.

"Xion..." the blonde girl sighed. "It's just you."

"Am I interrupting you? I'm sorry. I'm not interested in food, and the boys are really going at it, so I really wanted to do this writing exercise where you describe an atmosphere, and..."

"No, no, no. You're fine." Namine insisted. She moved her stuff a bit before gesturing for Xion to sit down next to her. "Here," she offered, "Sit next to me. The view is nice from this area."

Xion smiled in thanks before carefully sitting down. She looked out over the balcony and gasped.

"You're right, this is a good view!" Xion marveled. Her eyes expanding in wonder. "This is the perfect place for Ebba to plant a listening device onto an enemy!"

"Ebba?" Namine wondered. "Who's Ebba?"

At Namine's confusion, Xion's face lit up in a deep scarlet.

"She's my... I think Pence called it 'self-insert.' It's a character that's based on me, but sometimes has a few differences. I've based most of the stories I write on stuff I did in the Organization. It's helped a lot with trying to cope with it. You know?"

Namine shrunk a little. "Yeah..." she agreed in a tiny voice.

"But it's real fun too!" Xion told her, trying to divert the heavy topic a bit. "I base everyone in story with someone in real life! You should see the guy I based on Xemnas... I do a lot of mean things to him."

Namine let out a small chuckle. But then a thought occurred to her.

"You based the characters in your story on us?"

"Of course I did!" she happily declared, her blush growing a bit, besides. "Roxas is Lucas, Master Aqua is head knight Meikai, I even have Pluto as the brave pup Mercury!"

"Do... Do you have someone based on me?"

Xion paused for a moment. Her face going still. However, just as quickly, her smile came back as wide as ever.

"Not yet, but I can!" she decided. She hummed a bit as she thought it over some more. "But I don't have to if you don't want to. I think I'll call her... Syrena."

"Syrena..." Namine hummed in thought. She then gave a bright smile in appreciation. "I like it."

"Great!" Xion beamed. She let out a rather contented sigh before asking, "What about you? Why did you come here?" She looked down at Namine's sketchpad and art supplies for a moment then added, "Did you come all this way just to draw?"

After some hesitation, Namine told her. Carefully, and in her own time. Xion listened intently- only asking questions when Namine was done relating a certain day. When the subject came back around to where they were, Xion seemed to understand much better.

"I get it now." she said.

"You do?" Namine wondered.

Xion gave a thoughtful little nod before explaining, "It's easier for you to draw when it's more quiet. That was how it was before. I think it's great that you're still drawing, even though you started because you were held hostage by the Organization. But the Organization didn't give you the skill you have, Namine. That’s all your own. Kinda like how writing is my special thing. We have ways to just... be ourselves, you know? It's comforting. It's like knowing that, even though we didn't start out in this world with our own goals or ideals, we can make them on our own now. We're free now, Namine. Free to do whatever we want."

Namine absently hugged her sketchbook. "I like that thought." she admitted. "I never really saw it that way before, either. Drawing is something that I know I can do. Something that won't harm others. But you are right- it's what makes me... me. Thank you."

Xion grinned. A wide, bright grin that could have lit up a room. It gave Namine an idea.

"What does Ebba look like?" she questioned, at the same time she pulled out one of her sketching pencils. "Does she look just like you, or are there a lot of differences?"

There was a moment of confusion on Xion's face, then a bright flicker of joy. Not a second after, she burst into a long babble about her character. She even used her arms to illustrate certain concepts and mannerisms. Namine laughed, and did her best to keep up. Xion was so passionate about her characters- it almost made Namine jealous. For the next few hours, Namine did a blend of Xion's idea for Ebba, while Xion herself got to writing about how Ebba got to meet a new acquaintance; a mysterious girl named Syrena, who -while mostly shy- was very well loved.

#kingdom hearts #kh namine #namine #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kh fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #kh fan fic #fan fiction #fan fic #xion #kh xion #riku #kh riku #implied namixi #implied namiku #oneshot #one shot #writers on tumblr #no beta

[uncrownedmox]

Dirty Secret

The Rigmarole: Mention of sexual contact / descriptive- dirty language. Swearing. Mox being a dominant cocky asshole. Sexual shenanigans (oral, male/female giving, toy play, alpha status) 18+ only.

Pairing. Dean Ambrose/Jon Moxley x OC

Rating. MC

Summary: When she looked at him she knew she was complete. She was HOME. They laughed and spent all their free time together. She wasn't surprised by the rumors, hurt yes but surprised no.

But he said not to worry, in the wrestling world, everything becomes a storyline sooner or later. That was fine with her. Sooner or later everyone will know who she is- the only thing she didn't plan on was the Shield. Or how looking at HIM made her into someone new, someone larger than life. She thought she was complete before? That she was home? Now..she knows better.

But now Evolution is back.. and that sledgehammer feels so heavy in her small hands.

(Actually, matches and timelines WON'T match up to this story. )

January 2013

Looking around she wasn’t sure where to go or who to speak to. The busy buzz of backstage was intimidating at best and people seemed only to be concerned in their own little bubble. Moving to the side as a fast-moving cart of clothing came flying by Catherine Jane Parks sighed and continued down the hallway.

Her long platinum hair was tied back into a loose braid and she had loose strands framing her face. Her light honey-colored eyes darting left and right until she came across a blonde woman standing around the round looking over a sheet of paper.

“Excuse me, Miss.” Keeping her voice light and hoping her confusion wasn’t too evident.

Watching as dark brown shot up to her and saw the surprise as the other woman took in her jeans and Nike hoodie. Smiling in what she hoped was a friendly matter CJ pushed forward.

“I was wondering if you could tell me where to find.” Pausing for a moment she had to remember what exactly to him.

Their relationship was so new and fragile that they had dared put a label on it. Digging out her phone from her back pocket she scrolled through some text messages and nodded silently when she came upon it. Looking back up at the blonde she smiles big.

“Hunter?”

She saw the blonde’s eyes go wide and dart from left to right then swallow hard. Then after a stale moment, she nods and chokes out softly as she points down the hallway. Licking her lips as she starts to speak and rolls the paper she had been looking at up in her hands.

“Down that hallway, take a left, third door on your right. Knock right- always knock first.”

Then she taps the rolled-up paper against her head as if she was reminding herself to do so. Nodding as she turned down the hallway CJ thanked her and made her way with the directions she was given. Coming up on the door she leaned her head against it for a moment. This would be only the second time they have met, and it took her breath away.

Knocking as she got herself back under control, hearing his rough voice call out in a biting command.

“Come.”

Smiling as she pushed the door open and slipped inside. He was sitting at a desk, in a dress shirt that was rolled up to his elbows. His eyes were focused on a piece of paper, but twitching to look at a laptop screen that was set up to his right. CJ simply leaned against the door and watched him for a few seconds.

Then his eyes flicker to her, a ghost of a smile graces his lips and gentles ask. “How was your flight?”

Kicking herself off the door and moving closer she settles into the plush chair that is across from his desk. Their eyes haven’t strayed from one another, they are both smiling like idiots now. There is so much to say and to do now that she is here, here with him.

“Good, I have never flown before so it was something else.”

She sees the surprise in his dark eyes, the hurt as well but she dismissed it. She doesn’t want regret or hurt between them. Reaching to lay a hand on top of his she squeezes lightly, hoping he understands. Smiling a little when a light shines in his dark eyes. Suddenly there is another knock on the door. Withdrawing her hand she sits back in the chair, almost ashamed. Smiling a little when he whispers out an apology and then bellows out.

“Come.”

Turning cause she is curious about his life and his business because she wants to be a part of everything that is him. She blinks in surprise as three rather large men come walking in, Hunter sighs and picks up the paper he had been looking at when she had came in.

“Joe, Colby, Jon, good good.” His eyes dart to her and she realizes that maybe she has overstayed her welcome?

Hitching her thumb towards the door in silent question and wanting to squeal in delight when Hunter shakes his head. She simply nods and tries to melt more into the chair. Hunter sighs and shakes the piece of paper at the three men.

“Care to tell me what this was about?”

Glancing back when she heard a deep sigh followed by a grunt. She saw the man in the middle close his eyes and rub at his temples, the man to his right just stared ahead, but the man on the left looked right at Hunter and muttered softly.

“Poor timing or self-defense?”

He said it so innocently CJ was almost convinced until she saw the glint of his hard blue eyes. The small kick of a smile on his lips, then a lock of his hair fell into those devilish eyes and CJ knew what he was. He was pure trouble. Moving without thinking about she made her way to stand by Hunter’s side. Not trusting Mr. Blue Eyes for a minute.

She was aware her movement had all four men looking at her in question. Shifting uncomfortably, she glanced down to see the paper Hunter was waving around at the three men in front of him.

A police report

Snorting softly, it would seem as Mr. Blue Eyes was a little troublemaker. Feeling his hard blue eyes on her she moved closer to Hunter, and keep on reading the report only stopping when Hunter spoke again.

“How do you claim self-defense, Good? She was an undercover cop.”

Mr. Blue Eyes, aka Good which she found hilarious because she only see him being good at being bad.

“Fine Entrapment then, fuck boss-man the things she said she could do with her pus.”

Eyes wide, mouth going dry. Watching as the guy in the middle slapped Mr. Blue Eyes in the chest and the other man grunted. Hunter raising out of his chair, a snarl on his lips.

“You watch your fucking mouth, Good. There is a Lady present.”

Mr. Blue Eyes blinks at Hunter then at her, all the while rubbing his chest. When goes to open his mouth Hunter snaps out.

“You all three are fined ten thousand dollars each, consider it a welcome to the big leagues.”

When Mr. Blue Eyes flares in either anger or disgust Hunter adds.

“The next time it will be fifty thousand and a suspension. I don’t give a fuck hot the Shield is right now. You will learn to play by my rules and understand that this is not the fucking indies- you understand me, Mox?”

Putting a hand on Hunter’s foreman she wasn’t sure if this was a normal business day for him or not but he seemed so invested in what was happening. That it got her blood pumping, when he cast her a look. She smiled big for him. When he shoots the three men another glance she can tell he is calmer.

“I know you’re still adjusting, especially you Jon. I told you once, listen to Joe okay. He may have the least amount of experience in the ring as you and Colby but damn it man you all can learn shit from one another.”

Nodding in satisfaction she beamed at him, letting go of his foreman she knew from her own background that wasn’t always peaches and cream.

“It’s all about being a team. Learning each other's weaknesses and strengths. It’s not always easy to let someone in or let pick at the scabs you have.”

All four men were looking at her again, blushing. She shrugged and picked up a pen from Hunter’s desk, and clicked a few times.

“Colton words, not mine.”

Mr. Blue Eyes asks and she can hear the amusement in his voice. Making air quotes with her fingers she murmured.

“My dad, ex-bad boy player extraordinaire.”

Mr. Blue Eyes actually laughs at her then sticks his hands into his jean pockets.

“Darlin you don’t know bad boy until you know me.”

Now she is laughing, so much so that she has to hang onto Hunter’s chair so she doesn’t fall.

“You a bad boy? Please!”

She totally misses the hardness that enters his blue eyes as he takes a step forward, the middle man jerks him back and grunts out.

“Leave her alone man, she is just a little girl.”

Snorting as Hunter opens his mouth but she adds.

“I and a group of my friends met Colton at Peru’s. He had just bent my mother over in the bathroom for fifteen minutes after a fight, didn’t know who in the hell I was so after some angry sex and seeing my mom talk to me he thought it would be cool to try to get with me in the same bathroom.”

Hunter is snarling and has her in his arms in a flash. She is laughing cause she thinks it’s so damn funny now. Mr. Blue Eyes is smirking saucy.

“He didn’t piece it together for a while and for a while I let him play the charmer. You, can’t outdo Colton Messer, my friend. No matter what you say or do.”

The third man finally speaks up in a low smooth voice.

“The Colton Messer?”

Nodding she laughs as he flinches and glances at his friend then sighs. He mumbles a second later.

“Yeah, Uce give over. If half that shit is true- not even Mox is as bad as he is.”

Nodding as she shyly snuggles deeper into Hunter’s embrace she watches blue eyes blink then narrow. He licks his lips then after a moment he shrugs, turns to face Hunter again.

“Okay fine, you tightened the leash on your new puppy. Can we go?”

Hunter only grunts, his hand is in her hair, his lips on her forehead and she finally knows what it’s like to be home.

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

Watching him across the room she can help the smile that graces her lips. Seeing him in this element is breathtaking, his wife Stephine stands beside him but she could care less about that. The woman doesn’t seem to care for CJ, and that’s just fine. Hunter keeps them separated most of the time, except when they are at shows.

WWE shows

At twenty-four CJ never thought she would be working for such a company. Currently, she is working with Mr. Maddox who is a pure gentleman and a delight. She has caught on quickly that the wrestling world isn’t like the outside world, or even the racing world. Colton was always trying to sucker into working for him after graduating from college this spring. Hunter had put his foot down and told her absolutely not.

Glancing at him again she couldn’t help but be proud. She was aware of the rumors backstage, Hunter and she hadn’t gone public with their relationship. Hunter was trying to give his wife as much as needed to adjust to having CJ around and in her face. But the rumors were there already.

They simply chose not to acknowledge them because in Hunter’s words.

I am sorry CJ, like it or not. I know Steph- you’ll be a storyline before long.

Then the nature of their relationship will come to light, some would doubt it she was sure of that. But Hunter promised to take care of things. And so far he had upheld all his promises to her.

Like never having to see Chase Beckett again.

Frowning at the thought of the man that almost ruined her life she blushed when Hunter suddenly met her gaze. His dark eyes weren’t soft and playful like they normally were but hard and cold. She had gotten used to seeing that look for the cameras for TV. Watching as he brought his cell phone up to his face she watched in slight concern as after a moment he hung up and looked away from her. His attention back on whatever his wife was talking about.

“That was strange.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, jumping slightly when a warm hand comes to rest on her right shoulder. Turning she comes face to face with one Dean Ambrose, whom she first met in Hunter’s office three weeks ago as Mr. Blue Eyes. Of course, she knows Dean is just his character’s name and his real name is Jon. But she still gets confused sometimes on what to call these guys.

“Mr.”

He doesn’t let her finish instead he gently takes her elbow in hand and starts to lead her out. They were at some charity event and blinked as his two friends flanked him as they near the door.

“No fuss and no noise sweetheart. Hunters command.”

The phone call

“But why?”

The question is out of her mouth before she realizes it, the man gliding her only grunts but when a reporter at the entrance calls out.

“Chase, can we get a word?”

Stiffing she tries to melt into three larger men, she hides the best she can. Once they make it out, pass the entrance and into a SUV she reaches in her purse and digs out her phone and hits a speed dial number.

“Yes?”

His voice is gruff and hard, but she can hear the concern under it. It makes her want to weep.

“Thank you.”

There is a pause then in a year of their relationship she finally whispers.

“Thank you so much and I love you.”

He sucks in a breath, and she starts to openly cry. His words are light and his voice is gentle.

“I love you too, CJ. Since the day I met you.”

She hears him hang up and she can’t stop crying because even with the hurdle of telling Hunter she loves him she feels so very much alone. A strong arm comes around her shoulders and she doesn’t even blink; she just turns into him and balls her eyes out.

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

May 2013

To say he has gotten used to being a WWE superstar is understatement. But he has watched and listened. After the fiasco in January, Joe had put the hammer down to their partying and he had cleaned up his act. Not that he was super bad to begin with.

Jonathan Good was a good man, or that’s what Colby and Joe says. Joe’s old lady swears by it too.

If you wasn’t I wouldn’t trust you with my daughter, you asinine.

Chuckling at the memory as he warmed up, they were coming off Mania season and anything could happen. He had no clue if the Shield’s thing with Sheamus, Big Show, and Randy Orton was completely done or not. Then inside of his brain snarls and pokes at him. He wouldn’t tell a soul about this- about how bad he is hurting because being handed a scripted for every promo kills him.

The snarling and poking inside of him, he knows is from his creative side. It’s a side that has mashed into his old Mox character and the fucker is still breathing and living deep in his soul.

But he is trying to cut it out, slowly and carefully. And, it feels like, with a dull ass spoon. Certain things don't help, either. Namely the little young number that is currently his boss' side piece.

Since that back in January he has kept a loose eye on her. CJ Parks even landed herself a job as a personal assistant to Greg Maddox. That he mused, was an injustice, all by itself. But who was he to say otherwise, one of the perks of fucking the boss man he supposed.

Looking over at Joe he put it out there.

“A what-if for you.”

It’s a game they play, Joe was quick to catch on it helped with his mental state at times. So six month into their run, having become closer, the bigger man only grunts as he sits down and slips on his boots.

“If you were the princess. Wouldn’t it piss you the high off that your hubby was keeping his younger side piece in your face all the damn time.”

After all he mused Hunter had called him and his boys from their charity interview a while back to pull his babygirl out of the whole event for some odd reason. Colby butts in with.

“Maybe it’s an open arrangement?”

Looking at Joe specifically he asked more heatedly.

“But I mean, the age- wouldn’t it be like robbing the cradle or something?”

Joe chokes on thin air and shakes his head, Jon can see the smile he is sporting though. The is a knock on the door and when whoever doesn’t wait for an all clear it speaks volumes. Watching as Hunter himself slips into the locker room, Jon plops down and reaches for the tape out of his bag. It doesn’t take Hunter long to get to the point.

“Tonight you boys will seek out Maddox for a new challenge. However he will get wind of it, and high tail it out of here. That leaves you dealing with his assistant.”

Sighing softly so this was why the personal face to face. Hunter wanted to make sure they treated his side piece with kid gloves. Fair enough, he supposed, they could-

“Ambrose I want you to go full throttle on her.”

Blinking in total surprise and a little shock, he nodded.

“Sure I can- WAIT. What?”

Joe snickers at him and Colby clunks down beside him in a hurry. Hunter only grunts then raises a hand and rubs it over his domed head.

“If you can get her to shed some tears even better. Dip into Mox if you have too but keep it PG. Cause this where things are going to get interesting boys, seems like Dave is coming back. And well since Randy is still wanting some of you boys.”

Colby is leaning forward like a kid on Christman morning. His eyes are lit up and sparkling up but Jon can’t seem to care because he can’t seem to wrap his mind around Hunter wanting him to cut a promo on his side piece. And not just any promo. Suddenly Hunter's words break through his thoughts.

“That’s right Evolution will be reborn next week.”

Shaking his head he drops his tape and snaps out.

“Hunter are you sure, you want me to cut a promo on your girl? I mean..?”

Hunter gives him a hard look then stands, looks at his watch and nods. Moves towards the door, all without looking back at him.

“You have one hour Jon. And three takes to get it done. Don’t disappoint me Jon.”

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

The Shield finds Maddox's assistant in their joint office, her pretty long platinum hair is twisted into a messy bun that has chopstick sticking out of it. Her eyes look so fucking delicious behind a pair of reading glasses. She is on her cell phone, her eyes go wide and big when she sees them.

Dean gives her credit for standing when they file into the office room. He barks out.

“Where is Maddox?”

She physically flinches and replies to whoever is on the phone.

“Mr. Hemsley one moment if you please.”

An errant “Jon” thought crosses his mind.

Do you call him that behind closed doors baby?

Dean quickly pushes it away, there is no time or space for Jonathan Good or Jon Moxley in the here or now. This, THIS right now belongs to him- belonged to Dean Ambrose. He won’t screw it up again. Never again.

“Gentlemen how may I assist you tonight?”

The Mox in him howls and begs at his control, they had rehearsed the promo earlier. It had taken all three tries to get, he not happy with the first- she the second. And now here was another damn character in his head wanting to detail the whole damn thing. With something that clearly wasn’t PG. That clearly would get him fired.

“Little girl, you can’t assist me with what I want.”

And there it was. Jesus Fucking Christ. Not only did he see the surprise in her honey colored eyes but he FELT the surprise in his teammates. Shifting the US Championship belt on his shoulder he grinded his teeth together, how in the fuck to save this?

“What you can give me, and my boys, what we want!”

Okay that was a little better, at least it was getting them back on track. Then to his horror he saw something flash in those shiny golden eyes, saw her lips form in o pout and the tilt of her head as she looked him dead in the eye and leaned forward.

“Nope!”

His mind blanked.

Time stilled.

When it picked back up and he reacted it wasn’t Dean Ambrose that snarled back, almost happily.

“I was hoping you would say that, doll.”

As quick as lightning his hand shot out, tangled itself, her messy bun hair do and brought her smashing up against his body and her lips up against his.

Jonathan Good knew as the cameraman called out that they were all clear that he was good as fucked. The question was, did he care?

#my writing #dean ambrose #dean ambrose fanfiction #dean ambrose smut #no one under 18+ #masterlist #chapter series #my muses #over1000words

[iaminlovewithtrr]

Christmas with a stranger

This is my submission for 'gift of cheer' by @cordonianroyalty and @texaskitten30. This is the fluff one shot requested by @anjanettaexcordonia.

Characters belong to pixelberry

Pairings:LiamxRiley

A/N: this is the first fic I have ever written, so i apologize for any mistakes. Criticism is openly accepted, negative or otherwise. Feel free to say anything!

Tags: @texaskitten30 @cordonianroyalty

@kat-tia801 @eadanga @xxrainbow-princessxx @knightthunderis @kingliam2019 @anjanettexcordonia @stuti-singh @queenrileyrose @bbrandy2002 @twinkleallnight @bebepac @ladyrileyrussel @hopelessromanticsposts @dcbbw

Summary: Two strangers spend Christmas day with which each other, which changes the rest of their lives.....

Song inspiration: All I want for Christmas is you

Word count:2683

I don't want a lot for Christmas

There is just one thing I need

Don't care about the presents

Underneath the Christmas tree

I don't need to hang my stocking

There upon the fireplace

Santa Claus won't make me happy

With a toy on Christmas Day

I just want you for my own

It was the morning of Christmas, and Riley was overly excited. She always waited for this time of the year, especially Christmas. Nothing is more enjoyable than sipping cider in the presence of her beloved and enjoying the Christmas meal, she always thoughts. Orphaned at 4 ,she didn't had a blood family to celebrate with , but was blessed with a great deal of foster family and friends. Every year, during Christmas, as a sort of tribute, she spends the entire day celebrating with the children of her previous foster care. Watching those kids playing merrily reminded her of her own good days in the past.

She quickly ate her breakfast and made her way out of her NY apartment, whistling and softly humming to the tune of All I want for Christmas is you, her favorite song.

More than you could ever know

Make my wish come true

All I want for Christmas is you

Baby....

She was so engrossed in her little singing gig that she barely registered the stranger coming towards her, and crashed right into his broad chest, spilling her reticule's content on the sidewalk.

"Oof"she yelped, rubbing her forhead.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! Let me help with those! " the stranger apologized.

Riley and the stranger kneeled down at the same moment to collect her scattered belonging, and for the first time the two glanced into each others eyes. Ocean blue eyes locking onto dark ones. Damn... Those eyes.. Riley swallowed.

"Ahem" she softy cleared her thought, quickly collected her belongings, and stood up.

"Sorry for that. Should've watched my steps. " then she quickly disappeared into the crowd, not noticing the stranger eyes on her from behind.

Riley finally arrived at the foster care. Loving hearts. A bit strange name, but filling her chest with warmth nonetheless. She rummaged through her reticule for her Digital key card, but it was not there.

"Uh...?"she muttered. "Where the hell is my keycard? "

After a few moment of searching she gave up. "Im not going to get in there without my key card...."

"Excuse me Miss.... But I belive this is yours. " a voice behind her startled her.

Riley turned around and found herself staring at the pair of those same dark eyes she encountered earlier. I'd recognise those eyes anywhere, even though I had stared at his eyes for less than 5 seconds. The (cute) guy i bumped with!

"Ahem" the stranger let out a exaggerated cough and riley realised that she has been staring at his face for a solid 10 seconds.

"Right.. Ahem... Sorry... I mean... Thank you for returning this. You totally saved my ass--, i mean my...my...job". Way to make a fool of yourself Riley.

The stranger laughed quitly. "Well then I am glad I could save your job. But I should get going."

Just as he turned, a little voice in the back of her head called out to her, and instinctively she reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

"Er... Sir... I know this is extremly forward of me... But if you would be kind enough to spend the day with volunteering at the orphanage I work at? We are kinda short-staffed tonight, and there aren't much volunteers. Those children at the orphanage will be quite happy to see a new face. You could spend the with them. And me. If you are free, that is?

Crap. Crap. Crap. This i really asked a random hot stranger to volunteer?! Snap the hell out of it Riley!

Plz say yes. Plz say yes. The little voice inside her screamed.

To her surprise, he gave her a smile. "Id be happy to. I don't have any special plans for today. Btw. "

He smiled, and stuck out her hand to shake hers.

"Liam Rys"

"Riley Brooks". She said she she shook his hand. A familiar electric tinge sparked through her veins as she held his hand. His hand impossibly smooth underneath her. Woah! Are guys even supposed to have this soft hands? I wonder what kind of moisturiser he uses....

"Miss Brooks --"

"Call me Riley. "

"Well ahem, Riley.. it is rather cold outside. What say we make it inside? "

"Oh right."

She quickly swiped her keycard and stepped inside, sighing contentedly as the warm air from the heaters enveloped her. She melted a little inside as she felt Liam's warm body alongside her. Brushing this aside, she focused her attention on the scenario in front of her. Numerous gift boxes piled beneath the Christmas tree... Children merrily running and there... Volunteers mingling with each other and the children... The aroma of the food... And the Christmas songs softly playing in the background. A wide smile played on her lips.

While Riley was busy observing the surroundings, Liam found his sight stuck on the beautiful women he had known for not more than 15 minutes. She was beautiful, in a way that the noble ladies back at home in Cordonia arn't. And seeing her here in here element, smiling widely without giving a damn about public decorum or whatsoever, he found himself attracted to her. And without a second thought, he agreed to volunteer. We'll see how the day goes...

Liam cleared his throat, claiming her attention. "So what needs to be done? "

"As you can see this is a orphanage, so the children here dont have any families to celebrate the holidays with. So each year, myself and many other gather here to celebrate the celebrate with them. Thats what we have to do. Mingle with the children, play with them... And make them feel loved. "

"Sure. I can definately do that. I actually volunteered too at orphanages back home."

"If I may ask, Where are you from?

Liam immediately stiffened at the question. When he asked his father for a quiet getaway before the beginning of the social season, meeting Riley was not on the itinerary. And the fact that he was leaving Tommorow didnt helped either. The last thing he wanted to do was to lie with her, but he wasn't going to destroy these good moments he had with her by revealing that he was the crown prince of cordonia.

"I'm actually from one of the small islands surrounding Greece. "

Before she could open her mouth to ask more, Liam immediately turned away to play with one of the children.

The day went on quite peacefully and quite enjoyable for Liam. Holidays back home were anything besides spending with families. It was all about press conferences and photo ops and disguised motives hidden away in gifts. But here I was a lot more different, the sight of children playfully jostling each other without giving a damn made him smile, as that was the part of childhood he missed.

He suddenly felt a small hand on his shoulder and his pulse quickened at the feel of skin over his clothes. Behind her was Riley, holding a eggnog mug in her hands.

"Not to ruin your volunteering gig, but I got you something. "She said as she handed him the mug. Their fingers brushed, and lingered for just a moment longer.

"Ahem. Thank you. " Liam blushed, his ears turning pink.

Riley chucked softly at his antics. He is already so cute, and looks extra cute while he blushes.

Night came quickly. After winding up all the activities for the day including the gift exchanging and christmas dinner, all the children were put to bed and the volunteers were bidding their goodbyes. Only the foster care staff plus liam was left behind.

Riley glanced around. All the staff were mingling on the rooftop, with only her and Liam left in the main hall.

"Hey.... " she softly asked Liam, who was lounging in a chair beside her.

"Yeah? "

"Will you accompany me for a little walk around the times square? I just wanna clear my head a bit. " And hopefully spend some time with you...

He smiled. "Sure! Just let me get my coats. "

The pair walker out of the building and into the cold, brisk night. Celebrations were in full swing outside. Its called the city who never sleeps for Nothing.

Outside was really cold, and with the softly falling snow Riley barely suppressed the shiver that ran up het spine. Suddenly she felt strong arms around her shoulders and a moment later a coat was wrapped around them.

"I would be a terrible gentleman if a let a beautiful lady like you freeze to death. "

"Beautiful, huh? " she teased.

He blushed. That blush.

They both arrived at the square, staring at the enormous Christmas tree situated in the very middle. The glow of the lights and mini bulbs bathing them both in a gentle bluish light.

"Its really beautiful, isnt it? Riley asked. Just as she turned her head towards him liam's eyes quickly found their ways towards the decoration. Was he really admiring me than the beautiful decoration in front of him? Was it possible that he was feeling the same fluttering in his heart that she felt whenever they interacted? No, it can't be. I am reading onto this too much. We are strangers. Strangers.

"Indeed it is. " Liam quitly whispered, hiding the blush in his cheeks. Crap, she caught him staring at her. I hope she doesnt think i am creep or something. To Liam even the most beautiful decorations paled in front of her, she was more beautiful than any sights he had laid his eyes on. Don't get too attached, Liam. Its temporary. You are going to leave tomorrow. There can nothing be between you and her. You have a duty back home. This is just a little escape from reality. They are strangers. Strangers.

Just then the local band striked up a a waltz. All around them peoples paired up, with Riley watching the couples with a hopeful gleam in her eyes... which didnt went unnoticed by Liam. And in that moment, he knew what he had to do.

Liam bowed a little in front of her, and held out his hand, his other arm draped around his back. "May I have this dance? "

She smiled as she put her hand into his, her pulse quickning, "It would be my pleasure. "

She awkwardly bowed, earning a chuckle from Liam as he sweeped her in his arms, her one hand on his shoulder, his on her waist, their free hand twined together. They elegantly twirled together on the makeswift dance floor, stepping in time to each rhythm. As they glided together, liam couldnt help but gaze down at her angelic face, illuminated by the surroundings. His gaze strayed to her lips just as Riley glanced at him, they met each other halfway as their lips come together in a magnetic kiss. Time seemed to stopped when his lips met hers, and the flutter in their chest intensified. Riley's finger gently curled in his coat as liam tangled his hands in her soft brown curls. She smelled like jasmine, a scent that liam is all too familiar with. Their hands tighten around each other, almost desperately, refusing to let go, their lips moving against each other in perfect harmony. Liam tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest, and Riley softly sighed as she breathed in the scent of him.

For that moment it was only the two of them in the entire world, all the surroundings fading into nothing. Their little bubble of heaven was broken as the pair heard the the sound of clapping and soft cheering. Flustered, Liam grasped her hand and led both of them out of the dance floor and into the streets, grinning all the way.

The two of them found themselves at the threshold of a quint restaurant, and they both collapsed onto the stairs, still holding each other while wearing goofy smiles.

"So... That was.... Something else.. " Riley chuckled.

"Indeed it was. " Liam snickered.

As he glanced down at the lady in his arms, Liam felt a sudden tinge of guilt in his chest. I still haven't told her who I am. I have to tell her.

After her laughter had subsided, Liam gently took her shoulders in his hands and looked square in her eyes. "Riley, can I have a word with you? "

"Yeah... What happened? "

"I haven't told you where I am from, or what I am doing alone in a unknown city without my family. The truth is I am the Crown Prince of a small country called Cordonia. "

Riley stared at him, then burst into laughter. "Haha, Liam, nice joke. If you are a crown prince then i'm Kate Middleton." She stopped laughing when she saw the look on his face. "Oh, you are serious?"

Liam nodded. "Of course. I have no reason to lie to you. I just wanted to let you know that....that...." He struggled to move forward. "That i'll be leaving for Cordonia Tommorow morning. My social season will commence once I get back. I have to choose a bride from all the noble ladies presented to me as suitors. "

Her face fell. "You... You are really going back... I just thought we.... " She trailed off.

"I knew Riley, and I am sorry that I didn't told you sooner. I understand if you are mad--"

"Of course im not mad Liam. You did what you thought was the best. You just wanted a nice time without wandering about your duties."

"I... I wished we had more time together Riley." He whispered.

"Then lets make the most of it. We just have this night tonight, Liam. And I want to make it count. For just this one night let's just be Riley and Liam, two peoples without any obligations.

Riley pointed to the mistletoe over their head, then leaned forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss. He immediately responded, his hand cupping the side of her neck tenderly as she ran her hair through his dark hair. They pulled apart, staring into each others eyes, then their lips came together again, more passionately this time.

"Merry Christmas, Riley."

"Merry Christmas, Liam."

The night was spend together in Liam's suite, tangled in the sheets and in each other's arms.

************

The next morning

Liam woke up in his room.... Alone. He glanced around, none of Riley's belongings were in sight. A single note was on the coffee table beside the bed.

Liam,

I want you to know that the short time I have spend with you more to me than I could describe. You gave me the one thing I wanted most for Christmas...Family. I'm grateful for that. I'm sorry that I had to convey this to you by a letter, but i thought it would be better for both of us. Perhaps we will meet again.

Riley

Liam reached and wiped the lone tear that has escaped on his cheek. "I'm grateful for our time together too, Riley.

**********

Cordonia

It was the evening of the masquerade ball in the palace. Liam was dressed in his usual black regalia with a matching ornate mask. No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts managed to make their way back to Riley. Be a good prince, Liam. She's gone.

Liam stood in the huge elegant ballroom, a queue of noble ladies in front of him. Each lady he encountered, whether it was the poodle loving lady Penelope, the diplomat's daughter Kiara, or his best friend Olivia, made him realize that none of them were her.

The next lady approached, who was adorned in a white angel costume, with a literal halo above her head, her blue eyes peeking out of the glittering mask. Why are those eyes familiar...

"Hello..." Liam greeted her politely. "I don't believe we have met... Have we?"

The women smiled, then reached behind the back of her head to loosen the mask strings, Liam caught a glimpse of a familiar face as she removed her mask.

"Riley..."

#choices stories you play #king liam #king liam x mc #liam x riley #trr liam #trh mc #my first fic #trr

[potrix-the-queerschlaeger]

who made you smile again

For @dls-ao3, who wanted Geralt to realise that punching your bard is never okay.

This story can also be found here on my AO3.

- - -

• it doesn't matter who hurt you, or broke you down, what matters is who made you smile again •

Jaskier’s sitting at the biggest table in the tavern when Geralt returns, surrounded by what seems to be half the village. He’s talking animatedly, hands gesturing and pointing wildly, and he’s temptingly flushed down to what Geralt can see of his chest, hair tousled and eyes sparkling with mirth.

He's in his element, nearly as much so as when he’s playing; Jaskier lives to perform, in one way or another.

Geralt allows himself a small, fond quirk of his lips before he schools his face into neutrality, and starts making his way across the crowded room. Jaskier spots him as he approaches, and his own smile somehow, impossibly, grows even wider, making Geralt’s chest feel all warm and tingly.

“Ah, the man of the hour!” Jaskier crows as he pats the empty seat next to himself, then tugs at Geralt’s sleeve impatiently until Geralt settles down with a grunt. “Ale and food, for the brave Witcher who, oh so heroically, slew the swarms of nekkers that have been terrorising your humble town!”

Geralt doesn’t roll his eyes, but the urge is definitely there. Instead, he accepts the tankard someone passes him, and mouths, “Six nekkers,” behind Jaskier’s back, much to the amusement of the gathered people.

When Jaskier turns to scowl at him suspiciously, Geralt looks at him blankly, and takes an innocent sip of his ale.

The innkeeper brings him a heaping plate of meats and cheeses soon after—on the house, as a thank you for getting rid of the nekkers—and Geralt eats in silence, letting the rumbling sound of Jaskier’s voice wash away the last traces of adrenaline from the fight. One of Jaskier’s hands lands on Geralt’s knee, a comforting and familiar weight, and when he focuses on it, Geralt can make out the soft buttercups-teak-amber scent that is Jaskier under the more prominent tavern smells.

The conversations going on around him are mere background noise, right up until a barked, “That's gotta be utter horseshit, bard!” has all his senses hone in on a man across the table.

His voice is full of annoyed disbelief aimed at Jaskier, and could easily turn into genuine anger under the wrong circumstances; it happens often enough, with inebriated people spoiling for a good fight. Geralt sits up a little taller, and fixes his gaze on the man, eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

But Jaskier merely chuckles, light and disarming, and pours a goblet of wine. He slides it over to the man with a cheeky wink, and a teasing, “Oh, my friend, you greatly underestimate the force of nature that is a Witcher.”

Turning to address the whole table again, he continues grandly, “Armwrestling a half-giant? Not even a challenge! Taking down a troll? Like stealing sweets from a babe!”

Geralt has, in fact, had the misfortune of landing in a brawl or two with trolls. He’s not overly keen on repeating the experience, although he’s not going to point that out right now. The man who’d questioned Jaskier’s words is looking increasingly enraptured, nodding along eagerly now, and everyone else is listening with interest and awe as Jaskier keeps relating some of their more outlandish and peculiar adventures.

“But a Witcher is not only a most formidable creature in battle, oh no,” Jaskier says conspiratorially, quieter, and the people lean in closer, like moths caught by a flame. “Their skills can prove incredibly useful in other, more private endeavours, if you get my meaning.”

A young woman lets out a scandalised giggle, while one man chokes on his ale hard enough that his laughing friend has to clap him on the back.

Under the table, Geralt pinches the inside of Jaskier’s thigh. Jaskier yelps through his own laughter, slanting Geralt a mischievous look.

A little nervously, another woman asks, “So much strength, though, is it not dangerous?”

“A Witcher’s strength is evenly matched by his control,” Jaskier explains, somewhat testily, and leans most of his weight against Geralt, as if to prove a point. “None of us have anything to fear. Well, none of you, I’d wager, unless one amongst you reveals themselves to be even more incessantly talkative than dear old me.”

There are chuckles all around the table, followed by a few more questions, and Jaskier himself is loose and relaxed where he’s pressed to Geralt’s side, but Geralt himself stiffens at the carelessly thrown out words.

A memory niggles at him, old and half-forgotten, though once he manages to pull it to the front of his mind, Geralt suddenly feels sick. Years ago, shortly after they’d met, on the trek up Filavandrel’s mountain; Jaskier’s constant chattering, a passing mention of Geralt’s old, hated moniker, Geralt’s fist in Jaskier’s stomach, Jaskier’s pained coughing and wheezing.

As if burnt, Geralt snatches his hand away from Jaskier’s leg, staring down at his leather-covered fingers in disgust. Geralt would never use his full strength on an innocent human, that much is true, but he’d hurt Jaskier nonetheless. Back then, just now most likely, and how many other times, without even realising?

And why?

Geralt’s had abuse hurled at him for decades, from both strangers and people he’d foolishly allowed himself to trust. Folk have spat at him, thrown rocks and rotten food after him, refused him pay, and chased him out of town with pitchforks and torches. He’s been tricked, betrayed, hated, yet none of that ever made him lash out with violence.

“Geralt,” Jaskier's voice is laced with concern, quiet enough for only Geralt to hear. He peers at Geralt with furrowed brows, but Geralt can't hold his gaze, ducking his head to escape it after a moment.

He keeps his eyes lowered while Jaskier makes their excuses to his disappointed audience, shame and guilt swirling together in his stomach. Even now, when he least deserves it, Jaskier's priority is to take care of Geralt, even when it goes against what he must have planned for the rest of his night.

Jaskier exchanges a few quick words and a handful of coins with the innkeeper, ordering them a bath and some more ale. They climb the stairs to their room in silence, and even while he helps Geralt out of his armour, Jaskier only hums a slow melody under his breath. It's for his comfort, Geralt knows, and it makes the guilt clump and rise, settling as an aching lump in his throat.

When there's a knock at the door, he's almost relieved that Jaskier has to move away to go open it.

Geralt keeps undressing as the buckets of hot water are carried in, and snatches up one of the tankards as soon as they're put down on the table in the corner, downing it in three big gulps. It does nothing to calm his ugly thoughts, but it does provide a distraction, even if a disappointingly temporary one.

Jaskier appears at his side to take it out of his unresisting hand, fingers whispering a caress across Geralt's wrist. “Come on, then, before the water grows cold.”

The heat of the bath does soothe away some of Geralt's tension. But then Jaskier goes to fetch a stool, goes to sit down at Geralt's back, and Geralt finds himself blurting, “Join me.”

Sharing baths is nothing unusual, hasn't been for some time, although it doesn't feel like something Geralt should be allowed to indulge in, right now. The thought of letting Jaskier take care of him, however, makes Geralt feel much worse, all the more as if he's taking advantage.

If Jaskier's surprised, he doesn't let on. He sheds his clothes unselfconsciously, right where he stands, and steps into the tub with an appreciative sigh. Geralt maneuvers him until his back is flush against Geralt's chest, his head tipped back to rest on Geralt's shoulder.

Reaching out over the edge of the tub, Geralt fetches one of the washcloths Jaskier had laid out, lathering it up before he starts to gently run it down Jaskier's arm. He falters briefly, feeling horribly selfish for enjoying the contact, but then Jaskier murmurs, “That's lovely, sweetheart, don’t stop,” and Geralt couldn't refuse even if he wanted to.

His mind drifts while he washes Jaskier, back to that very first day they’d met.

He remembers how irritated he’d been by the aimlessly yapping bard, to begin with, but also how strangely intriguing he’d found him. Coming across a human brave, or foolish, enough not to fear his kind had been rare, back then, and even with Jaskier’s tireless work, even after the countless ballads singing praise to the Witchers and their good deeds, most people are still at least wary of them.

Jaskier had been an anomaly, and Geralt had been curious, otherwise he would have ditched his pesky shadow before they’d ever set foot outside Posada.

For hours of their journey up the mountain, Jaskier had talked with barely enough breaks for breathing, doing his very best to sell himself as a worthy travelling companion. And, to his own astonishment, Geralt had found himself growing amused by Jaskier’s continuously more ridiculous suggestions—”A horse groomer! My flower crowns are things of legendary beauty, Roach would look marvelous in one!”—and actually considering his offer.

And then Jaskier had mentioned Blaviken, and Geralt had come back to himself, wondering what the fuck it was he was doing.

Allowing a human bard to travel with him, smiling to himself at Jaskier’s antics, horsing about with a bard when he should be focused on his task, on his work, on the Path.

And Jaskier’d still been talking, always talking, and suddenly Geralt had been furious, and—

And he’d punched Jaskier.

For daring to make him feel something beside completely fucking miserable for the first time in what had seemed like forever. For not being afraid of him, for trying to befriend him, for being good.

Too good for Geralt.

Hand shaking, Geralt drops the washcloth next to the tub so he can pull at Jaskier’s leg, exposing the inside of his thigh. And there, high up, it is; a small red mark on otherwise unblemished skin, standing out like a stark reminder of all of Geralt’s faults.

A wounded noise tears itself out of Geralt’s throat before he can stop it, and he stands quickly, turning away from Jaskier and his confused, “Geralt?” to climb out of the tub. He’s dripping everywhere, trembling all over as he stalks into the bedroom proper, then stops in the middle of it with no idea what to do.

A tentative hand lands on his back, between his shoulders, and Geralt twitches, but can’t find it in himself to shake it off. Seemingly emboldened, Jaskier pushes him towards the bed, then onto it, following after Geralt to straddle his lap.

Geralt realises his mistake when gentle hands cup his face, and intent blue eyes bore into his, Jaskier murmuring, quiet but determined, “Talk to me, Geralt.”

There’s nowhere for Geralt to look but directly at Jaskier. He clenches his jaw, grits his teeth, but Jaskier doesn’t back off. Instead, he starts rubbing his thumbs over Geralt’s cheeks, slow and soft, eyes firmly locked on Geralt’s.

Barely audible, hoarsely, Geralt grits out, “I hurt you.”

Jaskier frowns at that, moving one hand from Geralt’s face to poke at the bruise on his thigh. “This?” he asks with a disbelieving little chuckle. “Geralt, darling, I’ve hurt myself worse by walking into doors. Or roughhousing with my brothers, as a child. Or tripping over my own clumsy feet. It was in jest, I don’t mind. I like you teasing me, you know I do. And marking me, though I usually prefer your mouth to be doing the actual marking.”

Which Geralt knows, he really does, but it does little to reassure him right now. “Not this,” he forces out, then amends, “Not only this.”

“If this is about the dragon mountain again,” Jaskier begins, tenderly tucking a few strands of damp hair behind Geralt’s ears, “you have to know, by now, that I’ve accepted your apology. And forgiven you, sweetheart.”

Which Geralt also knows, though a reminder of that particular conversation is never a pleasant one. “You always do. Forgive me. And I—I keep hurting you.”

“Geralt, what—”

“When we met,” the words feel like rough gravel in Geralt’s mouth, “the day with the sylvan. I hurt you.”

Understanding flashes across Jaskier’s face. “You punched me. And I reminded you, tonight, didn’t I?”

At Geralt’s terse nod, Jaskier laughs softly. “It was a long time ago—”

“That’s no excuse!” Geralt snaps, then immediately clenches his mouth shut again.

Instead of rearing back, or getting angry, however, Jaskier turns thoughtful. “It isn’t, I suppose,” he allows after a moment. Rubbing at the tense muscles in Geralt’s jaw, he wants to know, “What happened? That day, I mean? Because, Melitele knows, I’ve made you furious since.”

Geralt has to close his eyes. “You showed no fear. You were annoying. You made me feel—” he cuts himself off, gives a helpless shrug. “You made me feel.”

“Oh, you old fool,” Jaskier says, nothing but fondness in his voice and face when Geralt dares to glance at him. He leans in to brush a brief, featherlight kiss over Geralt’s lips, then leans their foreheads together. He huffs a laugh, eyes crinkling in humour. “That would do it, wouldn’t it?”

“Jaskier—” Geralt tries to protest, but is promptly shushed with another kiss.

“Do you regret it?” Jaskier asks, and Geralt nods.

“Of course you do. Would you do it again?”

Geralt shakes his head.

“No, you wouldn’t. Because you’re a good man, Geralt. You have faults, you misstep, as does everyone else. But you learn, from every single mistake, and that is such a precious gift, one that not nearly enough people possess. You try so, so hard to overcome all the prejudice, the disadvantages, the adversities that have been put in your way, and I am so, so incredibly proud of you, my love.”

Geralt genuinely does not know what his face does at that proclamation, but whatever it is, it has Jaskier snort inelegantly. “Yes, yes, I know. We’re done talking, I promise.”

Relieved, in more ways than he can count, Geralt cranes his neck to kiss Jaskier properly.

And when Jaskier demands, murmured hotly against Geralt’s lips, “Show me what that Witcher strength of yours is good for, darling,” Geralt doesn’t hesitate.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt pov #insecurity #self-doubt #introspection #established relationship #feelings #feelings realisation #light angst #fluff #emotional hurt/comfort #soft geralt #geralt loves jaskier #dorks in love #love #happy ending #myfics