#it felt so bad. so im back to crossing my legs and having shit posture

[biffhofosho]

Succumbing to Sybaris | Chapter Four

Chapter Word Count: 5.8k

A/N:  I know y’all be wondering, “Bitch, where’s the smut?” It’s right around the bend, I promise, and from there we’re on the bullet train straight to sin after sin. Setting up a good backstory was the only way my conscience would let me do all the things I’m about to do. *is pathetic* In the meantime, let’s add a few more layers of tension because that shit’s delicious and it makes the payoff taste all the sweeter…

Cvr | Tr | Pr | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | Ep

Amber's pen dropped from her lips to the desk as she sighed dramatically, but there was no one around to pity her. Day Four of her probation and, while her partner/chaperone was currently picking up her favorite gyro for her, she had nothing to do but fill out paperwork on their arrest in the Chevron case and sulk.

They had caught one bad guy, but she felt no triumph. Of course, it was hard to celebrate one arrest while she was also essentially on house arrest herself, but it was bigger than that, and she couldn’t deny it. Eight women were still missing, and she knew there would be more—and, no doubt, soon there would be bodies.

True to his word, the captain had transferred Chae Hyungwon’s file to Welling and Cavill, who had surprised Amber by actually following up with her. Of course, most of that was an excuse to lob barbs about trolling cyberspace for her “cut-and-paste kidnapper,” but she had managed to wedge in her leads in between their elbowing. It was something, but it wasn’t enough. She had to wait until she got home to feel any sense of control again.

Every evening, Amber anticipated the tender heart of night when she could slip into the stream of her modem’s whistles and wails and navigate to her usual chat room, the same one she had four nights ago.

He was always there in the sidebar, as present as if he were in her room with her. It was just six letters on the screen, but somehow it was more than a name—it was a whole person now, elegant limbs and perfect posture waiting in a darkened corner.

Like her new handle, chwSUX didn’t participate in the chat even when someone would try to engage him, even when teenage girls would join and flirt. It was eerier than if he’d continued to cast his lines into the open waters. Instead, it was like he could see through the digital window as clearly as a real one, right to the woman on the other side of her androgynous new ShwingShwing screen name.

Last night, he had shattered that window with a chipper notification ring.

He probably sent private IMs to everyone in the chat, but still, Amber had slammed the X with authority and logged off, possibly forever. When she finally forced herself into bed, she’d laid stiff on top of her mattress and stared at the ceiling, praying for the mercy of sleep.

At some point, she had drifted off, only to wake to Hyungwon sitting in the chair at the end of her bed with one leg crossed over the other and both hands in his lap. He didn’t say anything. He just watched her with a half-smile. She should have panicked, but there was no point. He belonged there.

Under his gaze, a warmth washed through Amber’s body, and against all sane judgment, she spread her legs for him under her sheet. Horror stampeded through what was left of her mind, but it couldn’t crush the lust searing its way through every nerve ending.

Hyungwon’s smile widened as her hand trailed beneath the covers down to the waist of her pants. It was wrong. It was wrong. But he was so pleased, and she wanted to please him more. Her breath stuttered and her thighs trembled and her core throbbed as he watched her patiently but expectantly. Amber pulled back the sheet.

Her fingers had just dipped below her waistband when she remembered who the man at the end of her bed truly was, not some charismatic businessman but a beautiful devil.

In the blink of an eye, she dove for her gun, but when she turned back, he was gone.

When she had woken, Amber was exhausted and disoriented. It had seemed so real, but when she looked at the same chair in the morning sun, she found her dirty laundry strewn across it, just as she had left it, and her gun still stashed under her mattress.

Now at work, she slumped over her paperwork looking as miserable as she felt.

“Hey, Amber?” The detective looked up to find Stefanie’s elvish face enhanced with widened eyes. Her voice was buoyed with a hint of eagerness. “There's some tall, handsome guy here to see you. Should I send him back?”

The admin glanced into the lobby and Amber’s eyes followed to where the ethereal apparition of Chae Hyungwon waited with one hand in his pocket. A thrill ran through her at the sight of his cold, steady gaze. His image was as clear as it had been last night in her room, only this time it wasn’t a dream.

“You sure he’s here to see me?” Amber asked skeptically.

“Asked for you specifically. So, send him back?”

Amber didn’t trust that tone. The two women had worked together long enough for Amber to consider Stefanie a friend, but that also meant they’d worked together long enough to know the admin was the office girly girl, with model good looks and a perpetual twinkle of a romantic scheme in her eye.

Amber scowled. “You know he’s a person of interest in the Runaways case, right?”

This dropped the smile from Stefanie’s lips and replaced it with a disappointed frown. “You really know how to pick ‘em.”

“This one picked me,” the detective muttered as she nodded for Hyungwon to come back.

His walk was so silent and swift that it was almost like he’d teleported to her desk. He loomed over her as he rested his fingertips on the stack of folders in her inbox.

“Mr. Chae, I’m surprised to see you. Are you stopping back on your way to see Detectives Welling and Cavill?”

“I'm surprised I haven’t seen you,” he replied. “You promised you’d stop by.”

Amber forced herself to glaze over the slight scolding in his voice.

“Actually, I was just lending a hand to my fellow detectives. They’re spearheading the investigation, so they’ll be your points of contact moving forward.”

“The two Neanderthals? They're so… square,” Hyungwon said with a furrowed brow. Amber almost didn't catch her laugh before it came out, and he noticed. With a smirk, he added, “Those stuffed suits they brought with them were even worse.”

“You mean Agents Suh and Song? They’re on loan from the FBI to assist on the missing persons cases. They’re good guys, maybe a little formal, but good.”

Hyungwon scowled. “They’re uptight. It’s off-putting.”

“Maybe that’s the idea—to put you off your game,” she offered. “I know from experience that’s pretty hard to do.”

Stop it, Amber, she hissed in her head. That’s coming dangerously close to flirting with the enemy.

“You’re easier to talk to,” he said, his voice an octave lower. “You’re real.”

“I—”

What was wrong with her? He was a suspect, the first person she truly believed knew something about the missing women, but it was like her hormones had overridden her every sensibility. Just the gravel in his voice ignited something inside her she knew should be smothered immediately, and yet she burned to follow him to his car so he could drive her home and do whatever he wanted to her.

And just like that, her fantasies came to a screeching halt. Maybe that’s what happened with the missing women, too. Right now, they could all be in a ditch at the base of Mt. Hood, and they needed Amber to snap the fuck out of it.

“Did you have some information you’d like to share with the Bureau, Mr. Chae?” she said as she scrounged around for a pen and paper.

With a light sigh, the travel agent shook his head. “Not with the Bureau, with you.”

All at once, the air seemed to crackle, and Hyungwon’s eyes shifted their diligent attention from her to the person behind her.

“Mr. Chae, let me show you back to Detective Welling’s desk. He’s waiting for you.”

Amber recognized that firm voice instantly, and her shoulders tightened.

With a slight grin, Hyungwon replied, “That won't be necessary, Captain Wong.”

Neither officer missed the weight of the captain's name uttered without so much as an introduction ever between them—no doubt a clever play suggested by Hyungwon’s puppet master lawyer brother.  

“It’s just a short walk back this way,” Lucas said more firmly, but Hyungwon shook his head.

“As I told them, they can direct any further questions to my lawyer. I'm actually here to fulfill a promise to your Detective Spiros.”

Above her, Amber heard Lucas’s teeth set on edge.

“My appointment calendar as promised.” Hyungwon handed the leather-bound booklet to the detective as she squinted at him.

“I thought you said your assistant was going to fax this over?”

“She was, but since I was already on my way downtown for a meeting, I saved her the effort. And unfortunately, I have that appointment now, and I can’t be late. If you have any questions, Detective Spiros, please feel free to see me. You'll never need an appointment.”

Hyungwon’s insinuations were clear and heavy, and the whole precinct felt weighed down by them. Neither man had anything further to say to the other, and judging from Lucas’s heat assaulting her back, Amber knew she shouldn’t open her mouth either. She let the stare-down conclude with the handsome interloper giving her a polite smile and a knock on the appointment book. The captain waited beside her until the slender silhouette of their adversary vaporized in the blinding sunlight.

As soon as the man was gone, Lucas swiped the calendar out of her hands before she even had time to react and stormed back to his office.

His door slammed in time for Eric to drop Amber’s lunch on her desk. “What’d you do now?”

“Honestly,” she grumbled as she ripped into her gyro, “it wasn’t me this time.”

“You’re the only one I’ve ever seen make Lucas that angry.”

“Think I should be jealous?” Amber teased, but it did nothing to lighten the mood.

She sensed trouble on the horizon the way some people felt rain coming in their knees. It was inevitable and out of her control, and no amount of desk duty could push her out of its path.

Things only got weirder as the afternoon wore on. Lucas had been on the phone for what seemed like hours, and despite having closed the Chevron case, Eric and she hadn’t received a new assignment yet. Amber knew she was on probation, so maybe she was being hyper-sensitive, but since Hyungwon had shown up unannounced, it felt less like probation and more like a blacklist.

“Look at you, complaining about doing less work,” Eric joked. “You should be glad more people aren’t shooting each other.”

“I am, smartass,” she snapped.

“Rather than lament your entire existence, why don’t you call it a day? If you’re lucky, tomorrow there will be another juicy mystery for you to solve, Nancy Drew.”

“Shove it, Nam.”

“Do I need to escort you to your car?”

Amber narrowed her eyes. “You’re in rare form today. No, don’t bother. My other chaperone’s still boring holes into the back of my neck, isn’t he?”

Eric glanced toward the captain’s office and nodded. “Sure is. Okay, well, call me if you wanna shoot some pool or something, or if you want me to set you up with my buddy. He’s free tonight, you know.”

“Do you have a Rolodex of single friends on standby? You’re like an old-country matchmaker.”

“And I’m not even charging for my services. Later, Bro.” Eric waved as he tossed his bag over his shoulder and headed out.

The precinct emptied out quickly after her partner, leaving only a handful of officers waiting to start their beats. With nothing left to do, Amber shuffled her things into loose piles to tackle in the morning and stood up right as Stefanie rushed over.

“I’m so glad I caught you!” the admin said. “I know you’re on your way out, but I have a mother here who wants to report her daughter missing, and Detectives Welling and Cavill are gone along with just about everyone else. Do you think you could take her statement?”

Stefanie’s eyes flicked back to the captain’s office and then back to Amber. Translation: are you allowed to take her statement?

“Of course,” Amber assured. “Bring her back.”

Stefanie nodded and, a few moments later, she returned with a middle-aged woman sporting a very deflated Rachel haircut and yesterday's faded makeup. Her eyes were drawn and red from tears, and her shoulders were hunched under crushing terror.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Detective,” the woman managed as she sat in the chair beside Amber’s desk. Her eyes watched her hands as she wrung a tissue in her lap. “You must get moms in here like me all the time, especially these days, but I don't want you to think I'm overreacting or overbearing—I’m really not. My daughter, Daisy, hasn't called me in two days, and she calls me every day, and what with all the other missing girls—”

She sounded like she was choking on her own words, and Amber reached out a hand to the woman’s wrist.

“It's okay, Ms...”

“Jean Hartley. My daughter is Daisy.”

“Okay, and you haven’t heard from Daisy in two days?”

“N-no.” It came out more as a sob than a word.

“It’s all right,” Amber soothed. “You’re in the right place. So, Daisy calls you every day?”

“Every day,” Mrs. Hartley echoed.

“What about her father?”

The mother shook her head. “He lives in Baker City. They never see each other.”

“Sometimes—”

But the woman cut off the detective with an emphatic head shake. “I already called, but he hasn’t heard from her in months.”

“How old is Daisy?”

“She just turned 20.”

“She’s in college?”

“Yes,” the woman said. “She’ll be a sophomore at PSU.”

“Busy time. Maybe she went on a trip with her friends?”

“She is missing,” Mrs. Hartley asserted.

“I’m not saying she isn’t,” Amber replied with a gentle smile. “I just don’t want you to worry any longer than you already have.”

The woman let out a juddering sob and nodded, though she did not release her stranglehold on the tissue. After a few deep breaths, she said, “This morning, I went by Daisy’s apartment, and her roommate hadn’t seen or heard from her since Tuesday. Something’s wrong.”

Amber withdrew her hand from the mother’s wrist and rifled through her drawers for a tablet and pencil. “Okay, Mrs. Hartley, why don't you start off by telling me a little about your daughter and what’s happened.”

The woman instantly shrank into her seat. Her red-rimmed eyes scanned back and forth as they pared down her memory banks for the most important details about her daughter. “She's been living off-campus in Goose Hollow with her girlfriend Eve and working part-time at a diner in the Pearl.”

At the mention of the Pearl District, Amber straightened. It was a neighborhood filled with all kinds of shady characters and even more transients, a place where people went to or were taken to disappear. It would be easy enough for a predator to look in a diner window for his next target.

“Theta’s Hotcakes,” the mother clarified.

As Amber jotted notes, Mrs. Hartley began to rapid-fire everything she could think of about her daughter. “Daisy was a straight-A student in high school, graduated at the top of her class. Straight-A student in her first year in college, too. She has wonderful friends. She’s never been in trouble—she's never done anything to make me worry.”

“No reason you can think of she’d want to disappear? Sometimes balancing work and school can take a serious toll, especially when you feel pressured to keep up expectations. Maybe she needed a break and just stepped out for a few days?”

The mother’s brows furrowed with indignation. “Detective, I know you have to ask that, but you have to know that I know my daughter. If Daisy was stressed or scared, she would have told me. We don’t keep secrets because we don’t need to.”

Amber had heard that line countless times before but never with such force. Mrs. Hartley spoke with the confidence of a doctor who’d been practicing for thirty years.

“Daisy’s not just my daughter, she's my best friend. I can't get a hold of her, and she hasn’t come home. Daisy’s never not come home, Detective, and with all the other missing girls in this city, I’m freaking out.”

Amber nodded and offered a fresh tissue, hoping to calm the woman, who was now visibly shaking. “Boyfriend?”

Mrs. Hartley shook her head. “No. Daisy’s never been a big dater. Hasn’t even had a steady boyfriend. She was always too focused on her school and her friends, and even now, she keeps saying she doesn't have time. She's been working non-stop before the next semester starts up because she wants to go to Spain with her friends.”

“What about anybody she's seeing casually?”

The woman’s sad bob flared as she shook her head again.

“No run-ins with friends or exes? Nobody with a grudge that you know of?”

“Detective, I'm not trying to be that mom, but I'm telling you my daughter really is nothing but goodness. Her high school class voted her Most Loved by Parents. Look.” Mrs. Hartley dug through her purse and pulled out her daughter's senior picture.

With her shoulder-length blond waves, clear blue eyes, and a sincere smile, she had a classic hometown girl-next-door vibe. Round eyes, round cheeks, and a round face gave her a sweetness where her alabaster skin gave her an innocence. The thought of another girl like this joining the ranks of the Runaways case stoked a fire in Amber's chest.

“We’ll need to talk to her roommate,” Amber said as she handed back the picture.

“Of course. I’ll tell Eve to expect you.” Mrs. Hartley wrote down the other girl’s name and address, and as she slipped it back across the desk, she grabbed Amber’s hand. “Please, please, Detective, find my daughter. She’s all I have.”

“There is nothing we won’t do to bring her back to you, Mrs. Hartley. Count on it.”

Suddenly, the woman leapt forward and gathered Amber into a hug, and the detective felt a sharp pang in her chest for her own mother.

“Thank you,” the woman whispered before she let go and shuffled out of the precinct.

For a long moment, Amber sat at her desk numb. A thousand thoughts rushed through her mind with one repeatedly bobbing back to the surface.

I should have left with Eric.

If she hadn’t met Mrs. Hartley, if she hadn’t seen that girl’s picture, if she didn’t know Chae Hyungwon, maybe she would sleep tonight. Instead, nervous energy piped through her, prickling her fingertips and propelling her feet forward. Everything inside her demanded she slip that report into her jacket pocket and head straight for her study. Somehow, a single sheet of paper weighed more than the whole of the Earth.

Notes in hand, Amber rose with her bag and headed down the hallway where the lights were yellow with old cigarette smoke and the walls looked as sticky as they actually were. It was quiet at the end, and shadows trickled out of the shuttered offices, but she could make out the wall of headshots and thumbtacks webbed together with permanent marker. Even in the dimness, she recognized the missing, with their bright eyes piercing the veil.

As soon as her hand touched the knob, a voice behind her startled her. “What are you doing?”

Amber turned to Lucas and waved her incident report. “Jesus, you scared me. Got another missing girl. Just turning it over to your detectives.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I’m not always wildly irresponsible.”

“Just most times,” he said with a smile. Lucas was so pretty when he smiled, wild and bright like a flirtatious boy who would love you and leave you just as fast. It had been so long since she’d seen it, and in that time, its brightness had intensified. She wondered if his new girl made him smile like this.

Amber felt the walls constrict—she could practically feel their tackiness pressing against her skin. She glanced back down the hall but saw and heard no one else. The isolation was as dangerous as his smile.

“Well, I have to get going, Cap,” she blurted as her hand moved back to the door. “Eric’s waiting for me at the pool hall with his friend.”

Lies, Ambrosia! Lies! she hissed at herself. Why even bother with the pretense? She wasn’t doing anything wrong, and he was relieved for a change. There was no need for it, and yet the words had come out of her mouth with conviction.

His smile fell away, like a picture shattering against the floor. “You can leave the report with me, and I’ll review it with Welling and Cavill tomorrow.”

The color had left his voice, and now there was nothing—no annoyance or amusement or even anger—nothing but icy professionalism. The walls had moved away but a chill had settled in instead, and all Amber could do was nod and hand the captain the report before she hurried out into the evening air.

Another morning sagging into her coffee cup after another night of restlessness. Amber had managed to stay away from the chatrooms, convincing herself it couldn’t make a difference now that another girl was missing and her cover had been blown, but guilt over abandoning her instincts had plagued her into the deepest part of the night.

When she had finally coaxed her eyes closed, even her dreams tormented her, but instead of finding Hyungwon in her room, this time, it was Kihyun. He had leaned against her door frame with his arms crossed, as though he was both disappointed and daring her, and part of her thrilled at doing both. He didn’t look like the kind of man who would tolerate misbehavior, which is exactly why she wanted to misbehave. If it hadn’t been for her alarm, who knew where his challenge might have taken her.

“You look like shit, Bro,” Eric said as he nudged one of his sugary bribes toward her.

“Thanks for the support, partner,” she grumbled through a mouthful of fat-fried pastry.

“Eh, you technically paid for this support. So, I take it you’re still not sleeping?” he asked, though it was more of a scolding.

“It’s not for lack of trying, believe me.”

“You should have come to Pal’s last night. Jackson was really hoping you’d change your mind.”

A piece of doughnut tumbled out of Amber’s mouth. “Jackson? Oh god, I told you no set-ups.”

“Not a set-up,” Eric assured though the awkward back-of-the-head scratch said otherwise. “Just want my friends to get to know each other. Is that so much to ask?”

“Yes.”

“On the bright, we got a new assignment,” he continued, hoisting up a fresh folder from his inbox. “Looks like an armed robbery downtown, ooh, right next to that Chinese place with that shrimp lo mein you love.”

Amber’s head perked up. “Shining Star? At least something’s looking up.”

Eric perused the file. “Looks like Ellis was the reporting officer last night, and he’s still on duty. Let me grab him and we’ll get started.”

Her partner jogged to the front of the station where the serious-faced officer was already conversing with a few others, including the captain. Meanwhile, Amber stuffed her face with the last of her doughnut and flipped through the newspaper while she waited for Eric to return. Before she could pilfer another treat, Lucas buzzed by her desk.

“Follow me, Spiros,” he ordered without stopping.

After a dramatic head loll, Amber marched back with the indignation of a kid waiting on a reprimand. It was too early for a scolding, especially when she knew, for the first time in her life, she hadn’t stepped a toe out of line.

“I swear,” she blurted the second she entered the captain’s office, “this time I really didn't do it.”

“Have a seat, Detective.” Lucas laced his fingers together on his desk and hummed.

Amber sat down and studied her boss. His eyes were unusually sunken and his skin was drawn. On the counter behind him, she saw a rumpled pile of clothes and an open shaving kit, and on his desk were four mugs and a banana peel, all the hallmarks of a man who hadn’t gone home.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and she blinked. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked her that. Probably the day they split, but certainly not since the advent of their strictly professional relationship.

“Just haven’t been sleeping much these last couple of days, but I’m fine,” she replied. “Looks like you haven’t either.”

Lucas nodded. “It’s been a busy twelve hours.”

Silence hung in the air. Amber waited for an order or scolding, but when neither came, she made a move to get up, and the captain shook to life.

“How do you manage to do it?” he blurted.

She raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”

“Find every loophole.”

“Sir, I really don't know what you're talking about.”

“I'm temporarily reassigning you to a new case,” he said as he withdrew a folder and flipped it open. “I tried to give it to Welling and Cavill, but your Mrs. Hartley called late last night and specifically requested you work her daughter’s missing persons case.”

Amber knew what that meant. Civilians didn’t request detectives—they demanded them—but even then, no self-respecting police captain would reorganize his detectives to suit them without the pressure of follow-up calls to the right people up the chain of command.

“Mrs. Hartley requested me?” It was impossible to mute the pride in her voice as she took back her incident report from his desk.

“This reassignment comes with another,” the captain cautioned. He handed another file to the detective, this one with a dossier attached for a Detective Son.

Her eyes snapped immediately to the picture of the handsome, impassive face of the other detective in his dress blues. He looked fresh out of the academy in the shot. His face was round and smooth, his cheekbones high, and his brown hair had been combed back into a clean, professional part.

“Sir?” Amber said as she lowered the folder.

The captain nodded as though that was all the clarification she needed. Her heart accelerated.

Lucas stood up from his desk and stowed his shaving kit in his desk drawer as he said, “Detective Son will be on special loan from the North Precinct for your support and assistance.”

“What—”

“He’s already a top-flight detective under Commander Hedbrandh, and he was lead on the disappearance of Jessica Ho before everything went to shit.”

“The first disappearance?”

The captain nodded without breaking stride or looking back as he opened the door and headed into the heart of the station, all without breaking conversation. “He will have some insights that I’m sure even you can’t turn down as you partner up on your leads.”

Amber stumbled after him with an arm out, but as usual, Lucas was out of reach. “Wait, Cap—”

“In the interim, Detective Nam will be assigned in a mentorship role to Officer Ellis, and they can work the robbery investigation.”

“But I—”

Lucas stopped on his heel in the middle of the precinct and whirled around to funnel all of his intensity on the young detective behind him. “You won’t begrudge yourself a valuable resource on your case, nor will you begrudge your coworker the opportunity to get some much-needed experience to move up the ladder, will you, Spiros?”

“Sir, I already have a partner,” she said in a rush before his words even had a chance to make it to her brain. She flushed at the notion that she sounded ungrateful in spite of his consideration to leave her on her lead, but she was desperate to keep the man she trusted most by her side.

“You do,” the captain agreed, “and once this case is over, you'll be back with Nam, but for now, you and—”

“If Detective Son is so great, why isn’t he already working with the Five-O Boys?”

But Lucas was moving again as though he was trying to dodge a harping neighbor on the front lawn. When he was nearly to the lobby, Amber grabbed his arm, and his indifferent façade fractured. His gaze lingered on her hand before they traveled to her frantic eyes.

“Captain. Luke. If this is because of the way things ended—”

He huffed and shook her grip as though she were a mosquito. His voice was dark and sour. “It's really not.”

His steps were longer now, more urgent.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Amber shouted as she stumbled after him. “I know you would never do something like that. I’m just blind-sided, okay? I don’t know this guy, and he doesn’t know me or how I work.”

“Trust me, that’s a good thing. Nam indulges you,” the captain growled and, barely noticeable under the cacophony of keyboard clacks and file cabinets slamming, she made out, “we all do.”

They were nearly to the lobby and gathering more attention with every step until the captain stopped again and sighed.

“You have this nasty habit of getting swept up in these cases, and more than once, it could have cost you your life, Spiros. But thanks to Nam’s mother-henning, you’ve developed this irrational belief that you’re invincible. You trust in this invisible bulletproof armor, but it doesn’t exist. You’re careless and tunnel-visioned, and you need a reality check.”

His words were scalding, and in her head, she tossed the nearest chair across the room in rebuttal.

“I know, I’m lucky. I have an amazing partner and I have you—” She caught herself in time to add, “—as a boss, and I should be grateful—”

“Finally, we agree,” Lucas said as he whizzed through the counter doors at reception. Amber had never seen him walk so fast.

The couple garnered more than a few odd stares. Even for those who weren’t aware of their past, no one in Central could be oblivious to their contentious present. It made up for more than half of all slammed doors on a monthly basis.

“What if we just—”

“My decision is final, Spiros. Detective Son will be here in a couple hours. He can have Nam’s desk in the interim.” The captain’s tone was resolute and his eyes were more unfathomable than the Pacific at night.

“Eric’s— I won’t work with him. I can’t!” she protested.

“You can and you will, or you will be suspended, and you’ll have to call Mrs. Hartley and tell her why you don’t want to help find her daughter.”

Amber gaped at her captain, but there was nothing more to say. Lucas knew it, too, and in another heartbeat, he had disappeared through the precinct doors into a world that had fundamentally shifted.

Wide-eyed and breathless, she glanced around for something to anchor her. Eric was only a few desks over, sitting beside his new protégé, Ellis, watching the whole thing. With red staining her cheeks as though she’d just been slapped, she whispered, “Eric, do something.”

Amber took in his doleful puppy eyes and helpless brow, and she snarled. His words were clear, if unspoken.

He's your problem.

“He’s already talked to you about this, hasn’t he?” she said at last.

Eric nodded. “Right before you. What am I going to do? Say no?”

“I did!”

“How’d that work out for you?” he replied. “If you think about it, Bro, it’s kind of the best-case scenario for everybody.”

“You’re my best-case scenario,” she lamented.

“And I love you for saying that, but, hey, I’m still right here with two very big, very adorable ears for you to bend whenever you want. Plus, you still get to conduct your own investigation into Chae, which, let’s be honest, was probably the least likely thing with the way Welling has been bearing down on the captain since he found out.”

“You’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” she sniffed.

“Do me a favor, will ya?” Eric said, swiveling so he could meet her gaze with his most earnest expression, the one that always made her cow to his whims. “Don’t get carried away with this new partner, okay? You’re still my partner.”

“Duh,” Amber said with a jab of his shoulder. But she saw the tightness linger at the corner of his mouth, and she added, “You’re my only partner. Detective Son is a reluctant resource and that’s it.”

“Okay, so when you crack Case of the Year, don’t forget me in your acceptance speech.”

“Forget you? Eric, I’ve got our couples Glamour Shot on my nightstand. No one could forget a horror show like us.”

As final as everything sounded, for the rest of the day, Amber kept hoping that Lucas would storm back in just as abruptly and announce he’d changed his mind, but the next thing she knew, Eric was collecting his files and some of his items from his desk.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of the rest of those doughnuts you owe me,” he said as he tapped his folders into a pile.

“Wouldn’t dare,” she said, but it sounded as deflated as she felt. “Can’t promise the whole dozen will make it in the long walk to the front though.”

Eric bumped her seat with his hip as he passed and snapped, “They better!”

Amber watched him drop the better part of his career on his new desk, only three rows up from her, but, for all intents and purposes, he was gone. He was already smiling at the perennially stubbly Ellis. He was already making him laugh at his terrible, terrible puns. Jealousy surged over the rising tide of powerlessness, and she chucked a stack of paperwork onto what would be the lackluster replacement’s desk. Which was when she noticed it.

Eric had left one framed picture front and center—the two partners at the Policeman’s Ball a couple years ago. As a joke, they had dressed up like a prom couple, Eric in a tux and Amber in a flouncy lavender number replete with a corsage on her wrist. They posed with barely-contained sarcastic grins and an awkward cross-body handhold.

She didn’t know who the reminder was for—her or the new guy—but the message was clear: “I’m coming back.”

#monsta x smut #novel #succumbing to sybaris #original character #shownu #wonho #minhyuk #kihyun #hyungwon #jooheon #changkyun #lucas #eric nam #nct #kai #detective au #vampire au #1990s #reverse harem #WE GO HARD YO #third person #enemies to lovers

[itsnsfwalways]

Canyon Moon

FIC MASTERLIST

warnings for ch 3: mentions of drug use (weed), swearing, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), a hint of degradation if you squint

chapter 3: you’re so golden

The sun hitting your eyes was the first thing that woke you up, the warmth inviting, but also very bright. Scrunching you’re face up, you tug the blanket over your head, turning to the side and taking a deep breath in. You find giving your body a few minutes to wake up before you force yourself out of bed makes you feel so much more awake and in a good mood.

Stretching your back, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll out of bed, trudging to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth.

Yawning as you walk into the kitchen, you make yourself an iced coffee before starting on breakfast. Putting on Rumours, you sing quietly to yourself while making a scramble with a bunch of veggies to get your greens in early.

Heading back to your room with hot sauce in hand, you light some incense and take a few bong rips before eating your breakfast quietly on the window sill. That was something you absolutely LOVED about your room, the edge of the window was just wide enough for you to sit (or lay down) and admire the view of palm trees and beautiful blue skies.

Opening up Misery, you finish a few chapters and mindlessly eat for a bit, listening to the birds chirp and the buzz of the city waking up. Once you finish your food, you go sit cross legged on your meditation pillow, facing the floor length mirror as you make sure your posture is straight. Putting on your favorite meditation music, which, at the moment, is 432hz Healing Tones, you take a deep breath in, clearing your mind and allowing the sun and healing vibrations to roll over you. You imagine yourself breathing in healing energy and nothing but love, and exhaling all of the stuck, negative energy, trying to ‘push’ it out with your breath. Sometimes it felt a bit silly, but if it made you feel loads better, why not do it?

About twenty minutes pass before you slowly blink open your eyes, yawning quietly before going into child’s pose, stretching your back and hips after sitting for so long.

Lying down on your back on the mat, you stare up at the ceiling, feeling an overall sense of being okay. Your body feels good, your mind feels good, your stomach’s full of butterflies that make you smile and blush at the thought of seeing Harry in a bit.

Pulling yourself up with a grunt, you throw on a swim suit and a random pair of shorts, not caring to bring a real top. After applying a bit of sunscreen on your face and shoulders, you slide into your flip flops and fill up a water bottle before heading out the door.

Unlocking Sunflower, you sit on the edge of the side door while sliding on your scuffed white rollerskates with obnoxiously bright blue wheels. They were your pride and joys, and made you feel as if you were in a different time, enjoying the breeze on your cheeks as you skate towards your spot. The journey only took about 15 minutes, with minimal stumbles, so it was already turning out to be a great day.

Finally pulling up to the small lot, you squat down to pull of your skates, putting them behind a rock along with your socks and shorts. You shook your head as you sprinted towards the ocean, leaping into the freezing water. It was the only way you were able to get in, you were never one to wade slowly in. Swimming about half a mile out, the waves crash over you coolly, soothing your quickly warming body. It was going to be a hot day today, good to know. Treading water, you look at the coast, everything looking so small. You made sure to breathe in, capturing this exact moment in memory. The feeling of salty water on your skin, wet hair stuck to your neck and the slight burn in your arms, but this was it. This was pure bliss.

But, you’re also not insane, so after a bit you swim back to shore, spending about ten minutes doing handstands and flips before getting out, wringing out your hair on your way up the beach. Climbing up the pile of large rocks next to cliff, you lay on top of a relatively flat one, allowing your body to dry off for a little bit and give you a few extra moments of sun.

You always hated dusting off your feet for forever before getting back in your socks and skates, but rather that than get sand in them.

“Fuck, I really am killing it today,” you pant to yourself, definitely feeling a burning in your thighs as you start heading home, desperately wanting a shower and some chocolate.

Throwing your skates in Sunflower, you slam the door closed and trudge up the steps to the apartment, practically falling over as you enter the door.

Laura looks up from her phone, perched on the countertop eating a bowl of cereal.

“Look at you, sexy girl, how was the water?” She teases, handing you a banana from the counter immediately because she knows you need it.

“Good,” you sigh, taking a bite and moaning, leaning against the wall for a minute in silence.

“When’s your date with Harry again?” She asks, glancing at the clock.

Oh fuck.

The clock read 10:30.

“Okay, that’s not bad, I just need to get my ass in gear,” you convince yourself, throwing the banana away and grabbing a spoonful of peanut butter. You didn’t have time to make yourself anything else, plus you were eating with Harry soon anyways.

“You got this. Do I get to meet him?” Laura encourages, raising her thumbs at you.

You laugh and nod. “Absolutely, just don’t ask about his exes or I’m going to look crazy.”

“Got it, no exes. Get in the shower, you’re dripping everywhere!”

You run upstairs, yelling back, “I’ll clean it up,” as you head into your room, turning on Currents by Tame Impala to pump you up as you shower, quickly washing your hair and body, shaving the itty bitty stubble just in case.

Running some curl cream through your hair, you try and scrunch and dry your hair as fast as possible, which doesn’t really work, but at least you tried.

A bathrobe envelopes you as you sit down at your small vanity, starting on a little bit of makeup. Dabbing a bit of concealer on your undereyes and small blemishes, you keep it semi-natural with just bronzer, blush, and highlighter, admittedly a ton, but who’s to say. Brushing your brows out and filling in the ends a little darker, all that goes on your eyes is a brown eyeshadow and a beautiful gold pigment, then comes drenching your eyelashes in mascara.

You turn your attention back to your hair, thank god you were having extremely good luck today, because it fell perfectly, the layers framing your face so elegantly that you had to smile at your reflection. Self-love is a journey, and you were glad to be in a good space.

Checking your phone finally, you find a text from Harry, sent 2 hours ago. Whoops.

Good morning, Y/N, just wanted to make sure we’re still on for 12. Hope you slept well.

Well, it’s confirmed, you’re a completely asshole. It’s 11:15 and you still haven’t responded to a text about a date happening at NOON.

AHH IM SO SORRY hi harry ! i don’t check my phone for a while in the mornings, i’m the worst, i know. we definitely are still on, haha, noon still work for you ?

You throw your phone on your bed while you stare at your closet, trying to find a good outfit for today.

Eventually coming to a pair of high waisted white shorts that you got from your mom, thankfully having the same waistline as her in high school, and a light blue silk tank top with gold straps. Planning on wearing your black boots with the gold detailing, because, hey, it seems you’ve got to up your fashion game dealing with Harry, you place them next to your bedroom door before checking your phone.

You scared me for a minute, I was about to go eat a very sad lunch by myself. I’m going to start heading over, that alright by you?

You giggle quietly at his response, typing out,

sounds great :) i’m planning on wearing a pair of boots, should i bring sandals or anything ?

Woah, trying to outdress me?

He sends the next one moments later.

Just teasing, boots will be fine. We’re going to this cafe I really like.

of course i’m going to out dress you, who do you think i am ? and awesome !! see you in a bit !!

You grab a small black bag, putting your sunglasses case, gum, keys, wallet, chapstick, lighter, your dab pen (you never know), and a small rollerball perfume inside. Sliding in some gold hoops and placing your rings back on your fingers, you wiggle them a bit. They always look a bit naked without them on.

Putting on your boots, you head into the bathroom to brush your teeth once more before Harry arrives. But nope, the doorbell, rings as soon as you start brushing your molars.

“Shit,” you gasp, heading over to the door, toothbrush in hand.

You swing open the door and rush out, “Hey, Harry, I’ll be out in two seconds, come on in.”

Taking in his appearance, you grin at the white sunglasses pushed in his hair. Wearing a white t shirt, it’s tucked into a pair of blue pants that matches your shirt to a goddamn T, which you can’t help but laugh at as you walk away. Passing Laura in the hallway, you give her a look as she walks over to him.

Their conversation travels through your open door as you finish brushing your teeth.

“You must be Laura,” Harry starts, and you can just see him reaching his hand out.

“I am, it’s great to meet you,” she says, her smile bleeding into her voice.

“You have a beautiful home, so close to the beach too,” Harry compliments.

“Thank you, yeah, Y/N found this place forever ago and we’ve been living here since we moved out. My dad knew the landlord and they gave us a ridiculously low price for it, but I am not complaining.”

“Oh that’s sick, I’ve been in Malibu for just a bit, always kind of changing my location around LA and England.”

“That was what we thought we were going to do, but I definitely am glad we stayed here. Living in the city is fun and all, but it’s a lot, you know? We need our peace and quiet at home.”

You walk back out, purse and phone in hand, taking in their positioning. Laura’s sitting on a stool, cup of coffee in hand as Harry stands across from her, eyes on you as soon as you walked out.

“I’ll see you later,” you grin at Laura, sneaking another glance at Harry as you give her a quick hug.

“Okay, bye! Nice meeting you, Harry!” she smiles, and of course he replies with the same.

You close the door behind the two of you and he looks you up and down again, meeting your eyes and smiling.

“Hi,” you breathe out, his eyes capturing you immediately.

“Hi,” he whispers back, squeezing your exposed side. “You look really good, Y/N.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile, placing your hands on his shoulders, feeling the fabric (but really just his muscles). His hands immediately go to cup your waist, not pulling you in, just holding you.

“So do you. Like the blue,” you grin, moving your hands down to his waistband.

“Proper matching, I’d say,” he cheekily smiles, thumbs feeling the edge of your shirt’s material along your ribs, your breath hitching slightly at his movement.

You’re the first to pull away, moving your hand to lace your fingers together, tugging him gently down the stairs. He follows after you, squeezing your hand with his and shaking his head, trying to mask his smile by twitching his nose.

That gorgeous being of a car is parked in front of your house, the color alone bringing a smile to your lips, but now the top was down, which was about to make this a lot more fun.

“God, Harry, I might have to steal this from you,” you sigh, arms crossed as you look up at him seriously.

He laughs loudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Maybe one day I’ll let you drive it,” He whispers, kissing the top of your head before pulling away and opening your door like nothing happened.

You stand there still for a moment before blinking and getting in, holding his hands on the door when he closes it. Turning your body, you lean out the door, placing your hands next to his as you whisper in his ear,

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Sliding your lips along his cheek as you pull away, you plop back into the chair, putting on your sunglasses and messing with your hair a bit.

Harry clears his throat before walking around the car, sliding into the driver’s side and starting the car.

“Do you want to play music?” He slowly asks, his tone sending shivers down your legs.

You perk up at this, nodding quickly and taking the aux cord from him.

“I’d love to. Have you heard of Tash Sultana? They released an EP a few years ago, their voice is incredible. They make all their own loops and play every instrument by themselves.”

Harry gives you a side eye, grinning as he says,

“That’s some pretty new music for you, princess.”

Your lips part slightly and Harry watches closely as your cheeks flush, licking the side of his mouth with a grin.

“Have I found a nickname you like, Y/N?” His voice has raised slightly, obvious excitement in his expression.

“Only sometimes,” you shrug, trying to play that off as cool as possible. “And yeah, my ex actually introduced me to their music.”

Harry raises his eyes at this, bringing a finger to his lips to hold his laugh in.

“Why the fuck did I say that?” Your hands go up to your face as Harry finally laughs at you, turning the volume down just a little to listen to you.

Sighing for a second, you pull your hands away before blurting out,

“I don’t want you to think that I’m lying to you about not knowing your music or you, because I do listen to stuff released now, obviously. I’m not a music snob or one of those too cool for school people because I absolutely blast SZA when I’m drunk and I’m starting to overthink and-“

Harry cuts you off by taking your jaw in his hand, turning your face towards him. Perfect timing, as always, pulling up to a red light right when he needs it.

“Hey,” he whispers with a smile, stroking your cheek. “I don’t think that you’re lying to me, and I understand. I was kind of a dick for saying all that right away to be honest, but I get it. I listen to mostly oldies too, if I really think about it.”

You exhale, looking up at him.

“Okay. I’m still going to freak out about it and make sure you know.”

He squeezes your jaw slightly, scrunching his nose.

“No,” he cutely protests, and you can’t help but giggle.

He smiles in return and lets your jaw go, hands going back to grip the wheel a little bit tighter

The two of you drive for a little bit, not really saying anything. You can’t help but dance in your seat to the beat, silently mouthing the lyrics to yourself. Harry keeps glancing over at you, too, grinning at the way you blush when he notices you doing it.

“How was your morning so far?” You start, just wanting to hear him talk.

He has to talk a little bit louder over the wind, but he’s happy to get the conversation started.

“Quite good actually. I’m going to Cabo in a couple weeks and was just getting some early packing in. Don’t you hate when you go somewhere and realize you forgot something like a toothbrush at home?”

“It’s the worst, I always end up having to go to a corner store and get something. What’s in Cabo?” You ask, already so amazed at his lifestyle.

“Friend of mine is having a birthday, so we’re there for a bit celebrating, going to be an amazing trip. Happy to be here, though,” he adds, eyes flicking to yours as he says it.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

“What about you? How was your morning?”

“Really good. Sorry about not texting you back for so long, by the way. I just have this thing about using technology right after I wake up, it gives me pretty bad headaches so I go as long as I can without it unless I hear it ring. But it was super productive, I got a good breakfast and read in, meditated a bit, skated to the beach and went for a swim, then got ready for this.”

“You put me to shame, Y/N, you really do.” Harry laughs, running a hand through his hair.

“I just woke up in a really good mood. I can definitely be grumpy in the morning, I’ll tell you that,” you try to explain, scared of feeling too pretentious.

“Yeah? I can see you throwing a fit if someone wakes you up before you’re ready,” Harry nonchalantly says, looking at the rings on his fingers before checking your reaction.

Cheeks hot, you feel almost scolded by him, thankful for the large sunglasses on your face.

“You’re not wrong,” you finally agree, crossing your legs smoothly.

That doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry, reaching a hand down to rest on your thigh almost immediately. His large hand wraps around your skin, thumb immediately starting to go in small circles.

“I started meditating a few years ago but I absolutely love it, I feel like it allows you to start the morning off right.”

Taking a deep breath before answering, you nod and say,

“Completely agree. It still can feel a bit weird doing it when I’m in a mood or anything, but whether you believe in it or not, having all that negative energy in you without doing anything about it isn’t good for you.”

“You’re quite cute when you talk about things you like. Light up like a little sun,” Harry smirks, pulling his sunglasses up to look at you, the piece of gum in his teeth allowing his jawline to be even more prominent. You do the same, placing them in your lap as you uncross your legs, his hand staying on your left thigh as it goes back towards the seat.

“Yeah?” You don’t stop looking at him, watching his eyes flit between you and the road.

Harry hums before adding, “I think you know that though.”

“That I’m quite arguably the epitome of all things golden? Of course, but it’s always nice to hear.”

You make a noise of protest as Harry removes his thigh to make a left, while simultaneously laughing at you.

“You are absolutely golden, love, don’t you forget it.”

He pauses for a moment before starting again.

“I’m going to warn you right now that there might be some photos taken of you when we go in or leave, or fans coming to take pictures. If that bothers you-“

Cutting him off quickly, you sit up, shaking your head.

“I dressed cute for a reason, if it happens it happens. I’m going to be pissed if someone comes for my outfit though.” You giggle at yourself and grab Harry’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I know what I’m signing up for. You’re good.”

Squeezing back, he looks down at his lap for a moment before glancing back at you, eyes so sincere your heart clenches a little.

“Thank you. Just... need a little reminder sometimes too.”

Unlacing your fingers, you stick your pinkie out, swearing, “I promise that I will always remind you that you’re not going to cause me any problems, and I’m not going to do the same. You promise to always remind me I’m golden?”

“‘Course, love. Was gonna do that anyways,” Harry chuckles, intertwining your fingers, heartbeat going just a little bit faster.

He couldn’t explain it, didn’t want to admit it to himself even, but your presence made his world just a little bit brighter. He couldn’t get you out of his mind, your smile, giggle, and sweet-smelling perfume was all he could think about since last night. His brain was trying to come up with reasons why this was a bad idea, how you could be using him, you were going to break his heart and leave without a second glance. But one look at your face, those eyes looking at him with so much wonder, made him hate the part of himself looking for excuses. These feelings felt way too much, too fast, but all he knew was he wanted to call you his girl. His sweet Y/N.

Parking his car next to some trees, he runs over to open your door, helping you step out and shutting the door behind you, placing the cover on the car quickly. The two of you walk into the cafe in silence, arms swaying next to each other. You figured he wasn’t comfortable holding hands in public on the first date.

The atmosphere of the Beachwood Cafe was everything you could want in a coffee shop. Absolutely stunning artwork covering the walls, a checkerboard floor, fun colors splattered all over. Your face must show how excited you were because you feel Harry bump you, grinning down at you. You hum, smile on your cheeks as he holds your face in his hands for a second.

“Like it?” You nod happily at his question, following the waitress to your table, one in the furthest corner from the door.

“Can I start you off with some drinks?” She asks, setting menus in front of the two of you. Harry gestures for you to go first and you quirk an eyebrow before turning.

“Can I please get a large iced coffee with some honey? Thank you so much,” you add, looking Angie, her nametag reads, in the eye.

“And for you?”

“A large iced americano would be wonderful, thank you, love.” Flashing that award-winning smile at her, she writes down his order and heads back to the front.

“This place is really cute, Harry,” you gush. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

His chest tightens at your cute face looking at him from across the table, the amount of gratitude coming from you at all times filling him with light.

“‘Course, honey. You don’t have to thank me,” He earnestly tells you, placing his chin in his hand.

“I know, but I feel like I need to,” you trail off, looking at one of the names of the scrambles on the menu. Snapping your eyes back up to him, Harry can tell where you’re going with this.

“Please don’t,” he half-laughs, half begs.

“But it’s so easy,” you pout, grinning when he sighs and waves his hand for you to continue.

“Should I ask how strong the Weid scramble is going to hit?”

Groaning into his palm, Harry tries his hardest not to laugh, but can’t help one escaping when you kick him under the table.

“Satisfied?”

“Very,” you nod, looking over the menu once more. “Have you had the Thai noodle salad? That looks hella good.”

“It is ‘hella’ good,” Harry teases, using quotation marks in the air.

“Right then, love, what’re you getting?” You respond in a British accent, folding up your menu.

“Probably the Brussels sprouts salad, it’s my usual here.”

You open your mouth to say something before your drinks are placed in front of you, Angie asking if the two of you are ready to order. Harry goes ahead and orders for the two of you, delicately grabbing the menu from your hands to hand it back to her with a charming smile on his face. Watching her walk away, you grab your drink, lifting it for a cheers.

“To living,” you simply state, Harry repeating it with a look in his eyes you can’t quite name.

“So,” you start, adjusting your position in your seat for a second. “You said you’re writing for your second album, right?”

Harry nods, licking his lips as he pulls away from his glass, catching the way your eyes wander to his mouth.

“Sort of. I want to, you know, take a break, try and just have some fun, rather than jump straight into writing and recording again. At the same time, I really fucking miss it. Writing and being in the studio and getting all that out just feels so good.”

The way his accent wraps around his words makes it hard for you to focus on what he’s saying all the way, realizing he’s waiting on you to respond.

“I definitely think you could use some down time. But that also doesn’t mean you have to stop making music. Write out your ideas when they come to you, and when you feel like you’re ready, start pumping them all out. I’m willing to bet $100 that you already have at least a few songs under your belt, though, am I wrong?” You grin at the headshake Harry gives you, catching the blush on his cheeks. “I knew it! We all do, it’s impossible to just not write, but don’t worry about timelines or due dates. You can’t rush art.”

“God, it’s just so good to hear out loud, I feel like you already know me,” Harry shakes his head, pushing his hair away from his face with one hand.

“I’m pretty good at reading people, I’d like to say,” your arm raising above you as you stretch a little, tilting your head from side to side.

Seeing your neck arch and the way your veins move slightly under your skin causes Harry to have to clear his throat a little, taking a sip of his drink as he feels his forehead start to sweat.

“What kind of artists do you normally write for?” He blurts out, trying to figure out how to get to know more about you in a roundabout way.

“If you’re offering me a job, I’m walking out right now,” you warm, raising your eyebrows. “Kidding. I don’t know, really, I write for a lot of my friends, like I said, when they need help on some of their own projects, or if I’m hanging out in the studio I get pulled around the rooms for a different set of ears. Working with Khalid was one of my favorite experiences, though, he was so fucking cool.”

Harry’s eyes sparkle at this, perking up.

“Love Khalid. He is so talented, and hilarious. I swear, my stomach was aching after being with him for a little while. I only asked because I think I’m trying to figure you out a bit. I just wanna get to know ya,” He shrugs, fingertips tapping on his glass.

“I wish you good luck on that task, Harry, I really do. The first step in recovering is admitting you need help,” you solemnly nod, bursting out laughing when he rolls his eyes and ATTEMPTS to hide his smile.

Your food is placed in front of you suddenly, and you jump, glaring at Harry for smirking at your reaction. He couldn’t help it, you were like a little puppy, overexcited and always jumping from place to place. Harry starts eating right away, sending you a quizzical look when you sit with your hands in your lap, almost like you’re waiting for something.

“You going to start eating, honey?” He gently presses, snapping you out of wherever you went.

“Sorry,” you blush, grabbing your fork and shaking your head a little. “I don’t know what the fuck that was about.”

Fuck, yes you did, and Harry knew that. You were waiting for his permission, and that thought alone sent you into a daze. Closing your eyes around the fork, you fought off the urge to moan and tried to push the fact that he already holds so much control over you out of your head. Snapping them open, you find Harry’s eyes on you, the look in them dangerous. Clearing your throat, you whisper, “It’s really good,” which Harry responds with a simple hum, leaning forward on his elbows towards you.

“You tell me if this is too forward or too much, yeah?”

Your lips part as you nod your head, not really ready for what’s about to cross his lips.

“I’ve been noticing certain... things that you do and, well, are you a sub, darling?”

Your throat dries, unable to break eye contact or even speak, only nodding when he squints his eyes a little at you. Fuck, this was not happening, you thought, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Like to hear that pretty voice of yours, yeah?” Harry urges you, hands fighting off the urge to hold your jaw in his fingertips.

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking a swig of coffee to think of something to say. “I’m going to assume you’re a dominant,” pausing to let Harry nod, jaw moving as he chews. You throw your hands up, leaning back in your seat.

“You are the complete package, Harry, shit.”

He laughs at this, covering his mouth quickly. “‘S’all you. A dream, really.”

Your heart flutters at this, shit, no, this is a FIRST date, you cannot be feeling like this. Taking a bite of your food, you are able to just sit back and look at him. Watch how he sticks his tongue out while he puts a bite in his mouth, something you’ve done since you were a kid for no reason. How his hands look almost sinful holding the white napkin to his lips.

“Staring at me, love,” he comments after a few minutes, his eyes looking at you sweetly, like he didn’t mind, but just needed to call you out.

“Merde, je veux te sucer,” you breathe out in French, banking on him not understanding you.

“Viliane,” Harry tuts, clicking his tongue at you. Before you’re able to answer, Harry is handing his card to the waitress who passed your table, asking for two boxes for your meals.

Your eyes snap to his, all the oxygen leaving your body as he brings your plate his side, getting ready to pack it up for you.

“W-Where?” Is all you manage, drinking the rest of your coffee, before setting it down on the table, a drop of honey falling down your lip. Harry can’t help but swipe it off with his thumb, slowly placing it in his mouth afterwards, not breaking eye contact, with you.

“I live nearby. That alright with you?”

Nodding slowly, you sit quietly in the booth as Angie comes back with the check and two boxes, legs bouncing excitedly as Harry packages the food up.

“Come on, lovely, let’s get out of here,” he tells you, holding you by your elbow as you walk outside, heading straight for the car. He doesn’t bother taking the top off, opening your door for you without a word and shutting it, almost sprinting to the driver’s side.

His hand finds your thigh immediately, rings shocking the delicate skin and making your muscles tense, his fingers quickly moving to massage out these aches.

“You wanna give me a safeword, pretty girl?” His voice drips with confidence, his hands moving closer to where you needed him most. His eyes keep flickering back to you while trying to focus on the road. His curls are a mess around his sunglasses, the brown hair swallowing up most of the eye ware. A pinch on your thigh reminds you that he expects an answer, shaking your body out slightly before answering.

“The stoplight system’s good. Green, I’m good, yellow, slow down or take a break, red, stop everything. What kind of dom are you, Harry?” You push, wanting to know what you’re getting yourself into. You had done a lot of kinky stuff in the past, and there were some things you weren’t a fan of.

“Mm, I’m relatively easy going. Not going to give you any rules, unless we’re playing and have a scene set up. But,” he pauses to exhale harshly, “I’m quite mean, love. I like to take control, pick you apart bit by bit until you’re just trembling under me, can’t say anything but my name. How does that sound, puppy? Tell me now how you like it.”

His voice sends shivers throughout your body and you moan quietly, biting your lip to try and stifle it. Harry’s words circle around your brain, your stomach tightening with need. All the air seems to escape you, but you know he wants an answer.

“G-good. I like it rough, dirty, just wanna please you,” you stutter out, chest rising and falling rapidly. You absent-mindedly rub your fingers against your neck, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe while thinking about what he’s saying.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, removing his hand from your thigh to place it behind your neck, squeezing it in his grasp. He knows what you want, even if he’s driving, he’s able to pick up on any little signals your body makes. Your back arches as you let out a breathy moan, eyes slipping closed.

“Tell me, princess,” he starts, squeezing the side of your throat to make you open your eyes and pay attention to him. “What do you want to happen when we get back to my house? Don’t want to go too far too soon.”

“Fuck, Harry, I just really want to suck you off, please, please, please,” you beg, a tear actually falling from your eye as you look at him. His pupils dilate at your words, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows harshly, mouth suddenly dry,

“Y/N,” he growls, reaching a hand to squeeze his growing bulge in his pants. His tanned hands and dark rings contrast the bright color, adding to your ever growing list of things that Harry does that turns you on.

The car pulls up to a gate and you sit there for a few seconds before Harry is buzzed in, probably driving way too fast back to his house. Parking in his driveway, he finally releases his hand from your neck and exits the car, making his way around to open your door. Holding your hand as you exit, he places his hand on your low back to guide you into the gorgeous home, the size of it taking your breath away. Harry gives you no time to admire it, shutting the door behind him with a slam before bringing his hand up your chest to rest on your throat, slamming you into the wall. He slips a leg in between yours and takes your hip in his free hand, guiding you to start grinding on his thigh. Your face flushes with heat as he tightens his grip.

“Know you wanna suck me off, but will you cum for me first? Don’t want this pretty cunt to go to waste.”

Your head rolls back and hits the wall, hips stuttering at his words, eliciting a chuckle from Harry as he leans in, breath hitting your lips before he envelopes them, encouraging you to start grinding faster. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, prying them open to lick into your mouth, your moans being instantly swallowed by him. Pulling away slowly, he maintains eye contact with you as he removes his hand from your throat to slip two fingers into your mouth. Feeling your wet mouth on him, sucking his fingers with such need, Harry groans lowly, removing his fingers to kiss you even harder, hands making quick work of removing your shorts.

“Such a naughty girl, can’t even wait to get to the bedroom, just has to have me feel you right here, hmm?” Harry scolds, removing his lips from yours to suck a mark into your neck, fingers moving to feel your wetness through the cloth underwear. Your hands wrap around his curls as you shakily inhale, resting your forehead on his to moan out lowly.

“Fuck, Harry,” you sigh, feeling him rub along your folds through the fabric, pushing it ever-so-slightly inside of you. His mouth pulls away from you with a pop, only to bite down on the red skin harshly, working his way up to your mouth once more. He bumps his nose against yours and opens his mouth to move his tongue past your lips. Your head is spinning, breath ragged as you suck his tongue with yours, feeling the vibrations in your mouth when he moans lowly, pulling a whimper from you.

Suddenly, he drops to his knees, pulling the thong down with him. You swallow at the change in pace and allow him to help you step out of them.

“Wanna take your boots off, sweet girl?” He checks, kissing your inner thigh softly as you lean fully against the wall. You think for a second, these were pretty comfortable, pretty solid grip, why not stay in them?

“‘S okay. Perfect height for you,” you breathe, bucking your hips up. He doesn’t even wait a second to smack your pussy, grabbing your thighs to spread you even wider.

“Filthy, you are,” he growls, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit, a gasp immediately falling from your lips. He looks up at you and grins, licking long stripes through your folds, almost like he’s trying to remember how you feel. He takes his time catching your wetness slowly, despite the little gasps and moans coming from you. Flicking his tongue over your clit for a second, he pulls back to blow cool air on it, the motion causing your legs to falter for a second.

“Gotta stay still, okay? Can’t have you falling over,” he spits directly on your core as he says this, looking up at you with his jaw hanging slightly open, loving the way your hands go to your hair to find something to grab on. He smirks to himself, licking into you while his hands find your hips, pinching the delicate skin between his fingertips. He collects as much of you and his spit on his tongue as he can, swallowing around your clit after he sucks it into his mouth. The suction makes your hips fight to buck up into him, but you use all of your strength to stay still, causing your thighs to start quivering in his palms. Harry grins and scrapes his teeth along your clit, your loud moan going directly to his quickly hardening cock.

“Taste so fucking good, angel,” he groans, nose rubbing against your clit as he fucks his tongue into you, the soft muscle dragging along your walls and guiding your wetness into his mouth. The sounds coming from him are obscene, loud slurping, sucking, and spitting onto your trembling pussy.

“Fuck, Harry, I’m not going to last,” you cry out, feeling yourself start to clench around him. He grins around you, pulling away to thumb at your clit and look directly into your eyes.

“Mm, that’s not how good girls ask,” is all Harry gives you, slipping a finger inside and immediately curling it towards himself, finding your g-spot with ease. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking harshly while his tongue draws designs on the sensitive button.

“Please, Sir, can I come?”

This has Harry moaning against you, pinching your clit between his teeth as he slides another finger in, fucking into you faster. Your eyes roll back, one hand splayed against the wall, another in his hair to give you some sort of balance. He relentless massages and thrusts into your g-spot with his fingers, feeling you clench around them so tightly that his head starts to spin. “That’s it, puppy, ask me again,” he demands, the title you gave him sending shivers throughout his body. He sucks harder on your clit, somehow speeding up his fingers inside you. A moan vibrates against your center when you pull on his curls, your hips bucking up against his waiting hand.

“Sir, please please please can I come? I’ve been so good, haven’t moved,” you beg, gasping loudly when your legs start to shake noticeably. Harry pulls away, looking up at you and grunting out,

“You have been such a good girl, haven’t you? Go. Cum, now, right fucking now on my tongue.” A loud slapping noise is heard when Harry smacks your ass, the pain sending you over the edge. Your head hits the wall with a thud, but your moan drowns everything out, the guttural sound coming from your soul. Tilting your head back, you cum into his mouth, one leg slipping out from under you and Harry places it on his shoulder without a second thought, holding you up as you ride out your orgasm. The tightness in your stomach releases and your pussy trembles around his fingers, only encouraging him to continue the constant pressure on your g-spot.The strength of it knocks the wind out of you and sends electricity throughout your finger tips, your hips slowing down their rocking motion as Harry eases his fingers out of you. He continues to lick you clean before placing your shaky legs back on the ground together, trailing his hands up your body as he stands up.

“Thank you,” you breathe into his chest, holding on to his hips for balance. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek, and you feel him move your hair out of the way to kiss your shoulder.

“Of course, lovely. How you feeling?” He is all smiles, his voice gentle and caring as he breathes in your smell, leaving small kisses along your neck.

“G-good,” you stutter out, nudging his head to make eye contact with you. He pulls away after a second, one arm going around your waist when he notices how you’re practically falling over with how shaky your legs are. Smirking, he places his other hand on your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. Tasting yourself on his tongue was too much for you, whining into his mouth before pulling away.

“Can I suck you off now?” You ask shyly, using your best puppy dog eyes. And, wow, do they work. Harry groans, biting your bottom lip harshly before pulling away, not wasting a second before pushing down on your shoulders. You topple to the ground easily, landing surprisingly softly (thanks to Harry’s expert hands), on the hardwood floor. After helping him remove your shirt, you place your hands behind your back immediately and tuck your chin down, grinning to yourself when you hear the moan Harry let’s out at your position.

“Spoiled little girl. Gets everything and more that she asks for, hmm, yes?” Harry demands, tugging your chin up by his hands. His eyes are pointed, staring directly into yours, pupils blown out and hair a mess behind him. You can see the pieces stuck to his forehead from sweat, but his chin glistens with something that has to be you.

“Yes, sir, so good to me. Wanna make you feel good, please,” you beg, leaning closer into him, the difference in clothing setting you into a daze, seeing him fully dressed while you’re waiting on your knees in front of him, naked, panting, and pleading to have his cock down your throat.

“Greedy,” he sighs, taking his hand away from your face to slide off his shirt, tossing it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He keeps his eyes trained on yours, daring you to avert them as he unzips his pants, stepping out of them. He looks away for a second to pull of his boots, and you take your time admiring his thighs, because, fuck. They were thick, muscled, tanned, and the little tattoos on them were asking to be bitten, you made a mental note to do that later.

“Got a bit of a staring problem, love.”

Harry’s voice snaps you out of your daydream, eyes flickering back up to him, mouth dropping open when he’s bare in front of you, slowly stroking himself. You involuntarily make a little noise in the back of your throat, sticking your tongue out for good measure. Seeing Harry’s hips thrust up into his hand and his neck vein pop was confirmation enough for you, but you waited for him to put himself in your mouth, absolute torture you must say.

Harry finally takes mercy on you, moaning out, “God, you’re such a little cockslut, just want something in that fucking mouth of yours. Bet I could leave my fingers in there all day and you wouldn’t complain once,” when he eases himself into your open mouth.

You flatten your tongue on the underside of him, not breaking eye contact as you slide off his cock to lick at his tip with feather light touches, drawing figure eights along the top. Suckling lightly on just the head, you feel a spurt of precum land on your tongue, licking it up happily. Tearing your eyes away from his, you open up your throat to begin taking him deeper, feeling his hand immediately come to your hair as you do this.

“Yes,” Harry draws out, allowing you to take control for a moment. You wanted to suck him off, so who is he to tell you how to do it? The view is what is killing him the most, though. Your tits bouncing as you slurp him down, spit falling onto your thighs, your little bit of stomach pudge falling over as you completely lose yourself in making him feel good. That is what gets him to buck into your mouth, closing his eyes and biting his bottom lip, breathing heavily as he begins to thrust into you. You pull away after a moment, jerking him off steadily as you swallow and look up at him.

“You can fuck my throat. Don’t have much of a gag reflex, anyways. Wanna see how you like it, Sir,” you pant, not giving him any time to think before you take him back into your mouth, placing your hand on the wrist that’s in your hair, giving him another okay.

“God, Y/N, you’re heavenly,” Harry breathes, testing out the waters by doing some shallow thrusts, only then beginning to actually throat-fuck you. He places his other hand around your neck, essentially pulling you into his throat and choking you from both ways. Your eyes roll into the back of your throat and you place your nose against his belly, breathing in deeply. Harry pulls himself out of you, rubbing his cock against your cheeks.

“Feel so good,” he draws out, easing himself back into your waiting mouth, rubbing the head on the ridges on the roof of your mouth. He moans through closed lips and tilts his head back, giving you the chance to admire his strong jawline from this angle, body sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. He had no room to call you all these beautiful names while he looked this fucking good getting his cock sucked.

You start speeding up your bobs, keeping him deep in your throat and only picking up a little, the change in pressure earning you a tug on your roots when Harry pulls you to look up at him.

“Mm, you want me to cum, don’t you, dirty girl,” he grunts, a lazy grin on his now flushed face. His thumbs make their way to press on either side of your cheek, moaning lowly when he feels himself through the tissue.

You hum around him, using your tongue along the vein you can feel, looking up at Harry with such need in your eyes. You pull off for a quick second, gasping loudly while saying,

“Want you to come in my mouth so bad, want to taste you and make you feel as good as you made me,” Taking him back in your mouth and sucking him off with a vice-like grip.

“Fuck,” Harry half-laughs, half-moans. “You’re incredible. Gonna make me come so fast, you’re taking me so fucking deep.”

Not even a minute later, you feel him begin to pulse in your mouth, pulling back to just suck on the head, using your tongue to dip into the hole, and Harry cums with a loud shout, burying his cock down your throat as he shoots ribbon after ribbon of come into you. You keep your eyes at his face, remembering how his mouth looks wide open, his eyes pinched closed, hair making a perfect halo around him. His throat makes you want to cry, the veins popping out and slightly red. He stays in your mouth for a while, allowing you to suck him dry and soften slightly, before pulling out of you with a pop.

“Thank you,” you croak out, swallowing what’s left in your mouth and leaning into his touch, quite spent if you were being honest.

Harry had to look away for a second, moving his hand to hold your head while he caught his breath. You were right about being golden, your skin shone, and you just radiated everything good in this world, right after he had his cock balls deep down your throat nonetheless.

“You’re too much, beauty. Thank you, did such a good job,” he gushes, kneeling down. He takes your chin inbetween his fingers and kisses you softly, just barely moving his lips. He leans his forehead against yours and wipes your lip with his thumb, allowing you to suck the bit of cum still on your face off with a blush tinting your cheeks.

“Reminds me of this morning, a bit,” he giggles, laughing louder as you hit him in the chest, grumbling ‘dumb’. He pushes your hair out of the way and holds your face in his two hands, effectively shutting you up as you breathe in deeply, feeling strangely comfortable being this vulnerable with him this fast.

“Do you wanna take a bath with me right now? Know you were on shaky legs and this hard floor for a while,” he pouts, kissing your forehead softly. You nod slowly and he smiles, nodding against you before pulling away to unzip your shoes, placing them next to the wall before he’s picking you up with way too much ease, pulling a shriek from you.

“‘Sorry, love, your poor legs okay?” he asks, holding you to his chest with one arm, using the other to hold your thigh. He receives another nod to the shoulder and he nuzzles you, trying to see what’s happening.

“I’m okay, just tired,” you sigh, and he murmurs an ‘okay’ kissing your temple before allowing you to sink back onto him, making a mental note to ask you about it once you’ve got your breath back.

“Why don’t you go turn on that shower and wash yourself real quick with some warm water and I’ll have the bath ready when I join you, that okay?” Harry whispers, sliding you down slowly. He pushes you toward the large glass door and you smile back at him, your heart bursting with appreciation.

This one is going to change you.

A/N: and that’s a wrap !! lemme know if you guys prefer this kind of phrasing (‘you said’), or if you like ‘she said’, or ‘i said’ better. this is my first time working with a full story using y/n and second/third person kind of view, so pls bear with me. also !! i know some people aren’t really cool with weed. im a ~stoner~ (such a weird thing to type out lmao) so i smoke a lot, but if y’all aren’t comfortabke with me mentioning it p much every other chapter, let me know !! (it can even be anonymously sent in) hope you liked it, and let me know if you have any other requests for future chapters or just one shots💗💗

- lana💔

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #dom harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction

[scxrlettwxtches]

worn out jackets pt.2 | hwang hyunjin

Genre: badboy!hyunjin x class president!reader, fluff, angst

Warnings: violence!

Word Count: +10.0k

Description: Hwang Hyunjin and you were now what were considered to be very good friends, but that doesn’t mean your relationship was a smooth sailing as the two of you wanted. The fact that you’re head over heels in love with him also doesn’t help that much.

Author’s Note: hahahaha remember when i said this would be posted in like a week? i lied. im so so sorry this took literally a month to write and im still not totally satisfied with it, but i really hope everyone enjoys it!! as always, my ask box is open to rants and comments about my writing, since there are little plot lines that i didn’t have time to fit in. :) 

Part 1

i.

After that incident with his parents, Hwang Hyunjin walked you home. Whether he was trying to be a gentleman or just paying back the favor of you comforting him, you couldn’t tell. He didn’t say anything during the whole journey, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless. 

It seemed your mother had stopped by the house that day, since the spare key was back where it was supposed to be: under the door mat. Hyunjin stood behind you silently as you opened the door, but it was a comfortable silence, not like the suffocating aura from before.

“Thanks for walking me home, Hyunjin,” you said softly, bowing politely. Hyunjin’s posture looked relaxed as he smiled gently, waving off your thanks. You waited for a second to see if he would say more, but he didn’t.

You shut the door, threw your backpack on the couch, and were well on the way to taking a nice long nap when you heard Hyunjin call out your name.

“Hey, Y/N?” Startled, you moved back to the entrance, your hand on the doorknob when Hyunjin spoke again, “D-don’t open the door.”

Frowning, you obeyed and waited for whatever he was going to do or say. 

“I’m too much of a coward to say it to your face,” his voice was muffled by the object between the two of you, “but from the bottom of my heart, thank you for everything that you do for me.”

By the time you had snapped yourself out of whatever trance you had fallen in (because The Hwang Hyunjin was thanking you what the fuck—) and flung open the door, the boy was already gone. With the street empty and gloomy, it was almost as if he was never there to begin with. 

ii. 

From that point on, the rest of the detentions with Hyunjin were actually quite pleasant experiences, if you had to admit. Despite still being infamously late to every one of his classes, he always seemed to arrive to the detention classroom before you did. He’d walk over to snatch a large stack of papers from your bag, and the two of you would work silently for the hour and a half. You never asked him to help you, but you couldn’t say no to the possibility of getting yourself some decent shut eye when you got home. 

Neither of you said much during these detentions, though Hyunjin would occasionally walk over and tease you about how strict you were with your grading. In return, you’d chastise him for giving Minho passing grades when it was clear that he had failed, but would flunk Jisung just because (“he drank the rest of my apple juice without asking!”). 

Just like that, Hyunjin’s week of detention ended, and so did your reason to spend time with him.

You couldn’t help but be a little disappointed about this. In a week, Hyunjin had broken past the tall, unyielding walls of your heart, and it scared you that he now had the most ideal opportunity to just walk out of your life, never to come back. 

However, to your relief (and delight), Hyunjin stayed.

It wasn’t a dramatic change, at least not at school. Both of you still lived in completely different universes that never crossed, but it came in the form of a fresh bento box in your locker that you definitely didn’t make, or half of your work being magically graded and slipped into your backpack during lunch break. You weren’t sure how Hyunjin managed to figure out your locker combination to sneak in your lunch or steal some of your teacher’s paperwork, but you knew it was him.

Because of this, you decided to show that you were there for him too. Yours came in the form of class notes that you would slip in his bag when he wasn’t in the room, or the secret pieces of paper you’d slip in his locker to warn him about which teacher was close to giving him detention. True to your word, you had removed his detention from the school system (and maybe even a couple more).

It wasn’t the ideal friendship you wanted to have with him, but it was comforting to know that someone was watching over you. 

Once out of school, however, Hyunjin was a totally different person, clinging to you like a koala to their favorite tree (you were the tree, sadly). After the detention week, he had never once failed to walk you home, always making sure you were safely inside before leaving. 

Now, three months later, he was still waiting for you outside the school like he was every other day, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, eyes closed as he was lost in whatever music he was listening to through his earphones. With the winter sunset as a backdrop and the relaxed expression on his face, Hyunjin seriously looked even more handsome than normally did, and you didn’t even know how that was possible.

Pushing down your embarrassing thoughts, you quietly walked up to him and kicked his shin lightly. You honestly didn’t know how the “bad boy” Hyunjin persona was so ingrained in the school population when he would literally lose his shit if someone so much as tapped his shoulder without him knowing they were there.

“Y/N, what the fuck,” he groaned, bending down to rub his leg dramatically, “I wait for you until six o’clock to walk you home, and this is how you repay me?” 

You raised your eyebrows in amusement, “Didn’t you say you had to model for the photography club after school, and that’s why it was only ‘convenient’ that we went home at the same time?” 

Hyunjin blushed, “Yeah, of course. That’s what I meant, dummy,” he said defensively, and you wondered if he knew how adorable he looked with his cheeks puffed out in a frown.

“You’re the dummy,” flicking his forehead as he was still crouched down, you began walking to the school exit, “Photography club doesn’t even meet today.” 

Imagining Hyunjin’s face with glee, you kept walking, knowing that the athletics god would catch up to you in no time. Whenever your Class President duties caused you to stay after school, Hyunjin always found a stupid excuse to stay after as well. To say they were stupid was an understatement, since he had reused the same one multiple times and had even once mentioned joining a club that didn’t even exist anymore. But you guess it was kinda cute, seeing how determined he was to walk with you even when it meant cutting into his personal time.

Hyunjin caught up to you with a brisk walk (which shows just how fast he was and how athletically incompetent you were), huffing. His cheeks still had a dash of pink on them as he complained, “Could you stop embarrassing me like that?”

“I’ll stop embarrassing you when you stop lying about having reasons to stay after school other than to walk with me.”

“Me? Walk you home?” Hyunjin’s face contorted into a mock horrified expression, “Preposterous.” 

You couldn’t hold in your laugh this time, and you sent a weak punch to his shoulder. These were your favorite times with Hyunjin, the moments in life where neither of you had to worry about your status, your friends, your daily troubles. It was like nothing else mattered in these moments except you and Hyunjin.

As the two of you rounded to the school bus station, you felt two fingers gently graze against the back of your hand, sending electricity up your arm. It was these hints, these subtle actions that cause you to wonder if Hyunjin was actually trying to make a move. Yet, the thought would leave in less than a millisecond, because his fingers have never made it to the palm of your hand, much less to the point of lacing them together with yours. 

“Why didn’t you say you were home alone yesterday?” he asked, leaning against a pole and silently offering you the only seat at the station.

“Okay, I’m one hundred percent convinced that you hired a spy to stalk me at this point,” you accused with no bite in your voice, “How in the world did you know that?”

“Jisung saw you walking to school this morning, and your mom always drops you off if she was home.”

“So, Jisung is your spy?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, with a strange amount of bite in his voice, “Like I would spend money to employ Jisung. I wouldn’t even accept his services if they were free.”

“Did something happen between you and Jisung again?”

Now that you were objectively friends with Hyunjin as well as Jisung, it didn’t take long for you to see the evident tension between the two. From what you’ve heard from both sides (and Jeongin, because Jeongin can get all the tea with his dimple smile and puppy eyes), it’s a lot better than before, but you couldn’t help but sense a sliver of agitation in Hyunjin’s voice whenever your conversations led to Jisung.

The boy turned away from you, staring at the pavement, “Not exactly,” he grumbled, and you decided not to push, since Hyunjin was the type to come to you if he needed your advice. It was clear that there was something, though, and you were thinking about how you could squeeze it out of either Jeongin or Jisung when the bus pulled up abruptly. 

Seeing that it was already quite late for a school day, the bus was pretty empty, so Hyunjin and you got your pick of seating. As always, he offered you the window seat, apparently because “it’s farther away from the aisle where strange men could bother you.” It was a pretty valid reason, you had to admit, and you slipped into the seat without much protest. 

As the bus chugged on, passing multiple stops, you began to notice that Hyunjin’s normally excited eyes were dropping slightly, as if he were about to fall asleep. That’s weird, you thought, because Hyunjin did look a bit tired in his classes, too. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, you saw his head fall for a split second before he caught himself and stayed awake for a moment before falling back into an uncomfortable slumber. 

Still, no matter how much he tossed and turned, he never seemed to lean to your direction. It was too obvious to be a coincidence and you wondered why it felt like Hyunjin was subconsciously trying to avoid falling asleep on you. 

Gently, you tapped his thigh to get his attention, but not in a way that could wake him up abruptly. God knows that’s the worst thing you could do to a person.

“Hyunjin,” you whispered, and his eyes fluttered ever so slightly at your call, “if you want–um, if you want to lay your head on my shoulder, you can.” 

If he were fully conscious, you were sure that he would’ve refused, making some stupid excuse while trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. It was always a mystery to you, why Hyunjin, who soaked up physical interaction like a sponge, would always seem to shy away from it whenever it came to you. Were you just so out of his radar that he doesn’t even want to give you the false hope? 

But in that moment on the bus, Hyunjin was probably too sleepy and too delirious to think about your words carefully, because he accepted your offer by snuggling against you. Snuggling. You. He rubbed his head against your shoulder, his soft black hair tickling your face, and his arms snaked around yours, holding it tightly. You thanked your lucky stars that he was fast asleep, since your face was probably the shade of a ripe tomato. 

As he slept on, you finally got an up close look at his face (not that you didn’t have the chances otherwise, you just always found yourself looking away whenever he got too close), and you frowned when you noticed a pallid yellow looking bruise on his left cheek, skillfully masked with makeup. You also take note of the scar under his eye, not covered with any foundation but still blending in with the rest of his complexion. You remember when he got that, about a month ago, because he had knocked on your door with a sheepish smile and a dark shades of purple mottling his face. 

Naturally, you had freaked out, dragging him into the kitchen to nurse his wounds. You eventually learned that this wasn’t a one time occurrence, especially since he began showing up at your door on various days with some sort of bodily injury. 

Hyunjin never told you where the bruises came from, except when he reassured you that they weren’t from his parents. It was no secret that bad boy Hwang Hyunjin got into fights, came to school with bruised knuckles and cuts on his cheeks, but now that you knew him, now that you knew Hwang Hyunjin wasn’t all just thorns and sharp edges, you worried for him. 

In the back of your head, you wondered if the boy knew how much you cared, or if he even bothered to know at all. 

The bus soon neared your stop, and you sadly had to break up what was quite a comfortable position for both of you. Shaking your shoulder lightly, and brushing the hair out of his face, you whispered, “Hyunjin, it’s time to get up.” 

The boy groaned, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder stubbornly, but you began pulling away, “Idiot, we’re gonna miss our stop!” 

“Okay, okay,” Hyunjin mumbled a reply, obviously still only half conscious, but awake enough to sit upright just as the bus pulled into the stop. A little worried that he might collapse, you kept a firm grip on his arm even as the two of you stepped onto the street. It wasn’t until you could feel him steadying himself that you let go. 

The two of you walked in silence, falling into routine. The streets in your neighborhood were relatively empty like usual, which got a little unnerving when you had to walk home yourself. Even with Hyunjin walking home, you still found yourself on high alert whenever you heard a strange sound, or felt the chill of someone watching you. 

“Oh my god,” Startled, you whipped around to glance at Hyunjin, who brought his hands up to cover his face in mortification, “I fell asleep on you, didn’t I?”

You nodded silently, trying to act more casual than you were actually feeling. The blush on Hyunjin’s face could be seen through his fingers as he visibly panicked, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t think I would—“

Waving your hands frantically, you dismissed his worries, “It’s okay! I asked you first.”

Hyunjin’s eyes were curiously wide, “You did?”

You laughed off your embarrassment, nodding, “Yeah. It was pretty cute, to be honest,” you added as an afterthought.

(You didn’t know, but this was the moment Hyunjin began to think—began to hope—that maybe his feelings were being reciprocated. If you were at least half as in love with him as he was with you, he would be satisfied.)

As the house came into view, the embarrassment of the moment died down, and Hyunjin began to grow talkative again, “Are you home alone again?”

“For a little,” you said, staring at the pavement, “My mom’s coming home really early morning.”

When you unlocked the door, Hyunjin silently keeping watch of the street, you started hesitantly, “Do you want to come in and chill?”

This wasn’t the first time you’ve asked, and Hyunjin has hung out at your place multiple times. For a moment, you thought he would say yes; you could see it in his eyes and his body language that he wanted to stay. 

“Nah, I can’t today,” Hyunjin said sadly, running a hand through his hair, “I’ve got work.”

You felt a sudden pang of annoyance (and hurt, because Hyunjin didn’t have to lie just so he didn’t have to spend time with you), “You and I both know you don’t have a job, Hyunjin,” you tried to keep the taste of bitterness out of your voice. 

Despite your efforts to hide your growing disappointment, it was at moments like this where it was clear that Hyunjin could read you like an open book. Immediately, he moved towards you, his expression apologetic as his hands twitched, almost as if he was holding himself back from reaching for you.

“I really wish I could stay,” Hyunjin tried to look you in the eyes directly to convey his sincerity, “It’s just, Channie-hyung wants us to do this thing tonight, and I really can’t ditch this time.” 

You shook your head, “It’s fine, really” you said, and you genuinely wanted to believe it was. It wasn’t your place to be clingy, you reminded yourself, and it certainly wasn’t your place to be disappointed that he wouldn’t stay with you. 

Hyunjin could only stare forlornly as you entered the house, the air between you thick with a tension that hasn’t existed since you first started interacting. Before you closed the door, you managed a smile as you said, “Tell the boys I said hi.” 

iii.

What a disaster. 

The moment you shut the door on Hyunjin, you sank to the wood floor, your head in your hands as you sighed dejectedly. Three months. Three bloody months, and the two of you still faced the same problem as you did when you hated each other. 

Why was it that when it came to Hwang Hyunjin, you were just unable to voice your true feelings?

It was easier for a while, when you had finally learned to look past his expensive clothes to see the vulnerable boy underneath. It was easier back then to be true to yourself, because the two of you shared a mutual understanding that made you close. You found a kindred spirit in a world full of lies and expectations, and he found someone who was willing to accept him for who he was. 

Now, you found yourself just as flustered, as helpless as when you first met him, because in just three months, it was not an exaggeration to say that Hwang Hyunjin held your heart in his hands. It terrified you, because every time you spoke to him, it felt like every casual conversation, every brush of the hand, every giggle meant the world to you. And the worst part was that he probably didn’t even know. 

Hwang Hyunjin made you speechless in the best way. He made you laugh in a way you didn’t even know you could. He made you forget about the unpaid bills, the upcoming exams, the college applications that had consumed every moment of your life. He freed you from your own anxiety, calling you late at night just so you wouldn’t be up alone studying. He helped you with everything that you had always thought you would have to bear alone, and that was only a portion of why he was so special to you.

Maybe, just maybe, you were ready to accept that you were in love with Hwang Hyunjin.

After what felt like an eternity, you pushed yourself off the floor, wiping some wetness off your cheeks. Not even a boy like Hyunjin was going to distract you from doing your work, and you got quickly lost in your house chores while blasting your “sad girl hours playlist.” 

On top of your seemingly miserable love life, there were a lot of things that you worried about as a senior in high school. Your mom still worked three jobs, and after taking on extra hours for one of them, you barely ever see her any more. If you were being honest, you had been mulling over the idea of not applying for colleges and just going straight to work. After all, any university would cost a shit ton of money that you didn’t have. 

People would be mad, you thought amusedly, if you made it known that you weren’t planning on applying to universities. Your teachers would be most furious, not because they actually care, but because their star student dropping out after high school would be absolutely scandalous for their reputation. Jisung would be mad too, because he knew how much you studied throughout high school and knew how much you wanted to graduate with a degree. 

And Hyunjin—Hyunjin would probably offer to pay for your education if you so much as mentioned that you didn’t have the funds to attend a university, and that absolutely could not happen. You didn’t want his pity money, and you certainly didn’t want to feel that you were leeching off him. 

As much as you wanted a diploma to hang in your house, you’d rather work right after high school than beg for money from anyone.

So, it really looked like you were going to be a post-high school dropout. 

Awesome. 

You slaved away over your housework until it was well past 10 pm, which was when you realized that it was a good idea to sit your ass down and eat some dinner. With some effort, you put together a gourmet meal of ramen and some leftover bulgogi, and were eating contently in the kitchen when your phone buzzed. You jumped at the sound, because it’s rare that anyone would be calling you at this hour.

Without even glancing at the caller ID, you picked up, knowing that it was probably your mom (or a panicked Jisung who forgot what the homework was), “Hello?”

“You picked up,” a familiar voice replied, sounding relieved. The line cracked slightly as your heart skipped. 

“Hyunjin?” you asked, standing up already, “Are you okay? Did something happen?” 

There was a moment of silence, and you were literally one second away from dropping everything you had to run to Hyunjin’s house when he spoke again, “No, everything’s fine. Just—“

Hyunjin trailed off before speaking tiredly, “I just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.” 

“I’m flattered, I really am,” you said, blushing slightly even though he couldn’t see you, “But something tells me there’s more to the story. Where are you?” 

“I’m—,” there was a strained groan, and you immediately grew alert, “I’m actually on your street. Do you think I could crash at your place for a bit?” 

You were stunned for a moment, too shocked to say anything, and Hyunjin immediately accepted the rejection with a bitter chuckle, “Guess not.” 

“No, no, no!” you said frantically, “I was just caught off guard. Of course you can stay. I’ll come let you in right now.” 

“Wait,” Hyunjin spoke sternly as you walked to the door, “Don’t open the door until I knock on it. There’s some drunk people walking around here.” 

“There’s always at least a couple drunk people on this street,” you said mildly, but did whatever Hyunjin asked of you anyway. 

“I know,” he replied, “but I’m still allowed to worry.” 

His voice sounded close, and you could very faintly hear his real voice through the door as you heard someone shuffling around before knocking lightly. You hung up the phone and took the deadbolt out of your entrance. 

“Not that I don’t enjoy your company,” you started as you pulled open the door, “but what exactly warrants a visit at ten—oh my god, Hyunjin.” 

Standing in your doorway was a sheepish looking Hwang Hyunjin, more bruised, battered, and bloodier than ever. 

iv. 

“I know I’ve looked better, but can you please stop staring at me like I’m turning into a llama?” 

There was no time for small talk, at least for you. Without so much as an indication that you had heard him, you yanked him into the hallway by his jacket, shutting the door quickly behind you. Hyunjin yelped, but followed you obediently and without much resistance. 

Shoving him unceremoniously into a chair around the dining table, you immediately began fussing around him, cupping his face in your hands to check for cuts on his face, running your hands through his hair gently to feel for bruises. You didn’t have any idea what you were thinking at the time, only that Hyunjin was hurt, Hyunjin is in pain, why is Hyunjin bleeding. Then, you attacked his leather jacket, taking it off rather roughly when you observed that he didn’t seem to be majorly injured. Your hands then dived for his white t-shirt before you regained an ounce of self control and held yourself back. 

“Can you take your shirt off?” you tried to push away your embarrassment as you gestured to the white piece of clothing. Hyunjin had never been injured enough for you to have to do any work on his chest or abdomen, and now you were being faced with the alarming prospect of seeing Hyunjin with his shirt off for the first time. 

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, “You seemed well on your way to do it yourself just earlier,” he sounded rather amused, and your cheeks flushed bright pink.

“I’m not going to take your shirt off for you, Hwang Hyunjin,” you snapped, and turned away to grab some disinfectant wipes and bandages. You heard Hyunjin chuckle softly as he wriggled out of his t-shirt. 

In any other occasion, you would’ve been flustered beyond belief, blushing and making a quick exit. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you had never been close with many boys, certainly not to the point where you’ve seen any of them up close without a shirt. And it wasn’t a surprise to see that Hyunjin was really fucking hot. 

But that day, all you could see were the dark purple bruises mottling his body, the thin slashes that looked eerily like knife cuts. The embarrassment dissipated, and you could only stare in horror because why why why—

Hyunjin had grown silent as well, watching you carefully as you knelt down in front of him and began cleaning his wounds. He didn’t flinch when the antiseptic touched his open cuts, and you found your hands uncontrollably trembling as you dabbed as his wounds. 

You could feel frustrated tears pooling in your eyes as all you could focus on were those injuries, those god forsaken injuries, and—

“Hey, hey,” you felt a large, gentle hand over yours as they stopped your movement, “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?” 

Blinking the tears away, your hands fell limp in his, and you wanted nothing more than to sink into Hyunjin’s embrace, “Why are you showing up like this again?” you whimpered, trying to keep your voice steady, “You were literally here last week and now it’s even worse—“ 

“Well, I never asked to get beat up,” Hyunjin snorted, and his indifference to his own health hurt you. Is he completely oblivious to the fact that every injury he suffers pains you too? 

“Where are you even going to get this hurt every week?” you finally find it in you to ask, because you’ve had enough of Hyunjin showing up with wounds that you didn’t know how he got. 

Hyunjin tensed, you felt his hand stiffen over yours, “I...can’t say,” he spoke slowly. 

“Why not?” you asked, frustrated. You turned your hand over to lace your fingers into his, a gamble on your part, but Hyunjin reciprocated easily, holding your hand as if it was the only thing he wanted to do.

“I just can’t,” Hyunjin repeated tiredly, looking at your intertwined hands intently with an emotion in his gaze that you couldn’t read.

“Are you not allowed to tell me, or do you just not want to?”

Hyunjin groaned, a twinge of annoyance in his voice, “Why are you so caught up about where I was?”

His tone of voice set you off the wrong way, and you retracted your hands as you replied defensively, “Well, if you’re going to be bleeding out in my kitchen every week, don’t you think I have the right to know?”

Suddenly, the look in Hyunjin’s eyes changed. He was no longer the open, vulnerable Hyunjin you just saw a moment ago. The air around the two of you was electric with tension, and his expression grew ever so slightly colder as he asked quietly, “Am I not welcome here anymore?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hyunjin,” you replied simply. You will never reach a point in your life where you wouldn’t drop everything to help Hyunjin if he ever needed it, maybe because in your heart, you knew he’d do the same for you.

“You’re never unwelcome here,” you stated honestly, before gesturing to him and the pile of bloody wipes and bandages on the counter, “but this has to stop.”

From his posture and his expression, you could tell that Hyunjin was far from calming down as he scoffed, “And what exactly is this?”

He was deflecting, you knew it, but you weren’t so infatuated that you were going to let him walk all over you, especially since he was the one coming to you for help, “What I mean by this,” you hissed, “is you coming over with bruises and cuts that you can’t explain. It’s you showing up at ten in the night and expecting me silently patch you up without asking you questions. It’s you,” your voice cracked ever so slightly, “coming with injuries that just get worse by the week, and you still won’t tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Hyunjin stood up abruptly, his expression so icy that you could feel a strange chill just by looking at him, “You’re not my mother, so stop acting like one,” he snapped. Hyunjin seemed to regret his words the moment he said them, it was a flash of guilt in his eyes that was instantaneous and sharp, but he didn’t apologize, gritting his teeth as pride got the best of him.

“You’re right,” you heard yourself say, walking over to him slowly. Grabbing the set of bandages and antiseptic wipes, you shoved them into Hyunjin’s arms, “I’m not your mother. I thought I made that crystal clear the day I lied to her just to protect you.”

“That should be everything you need,” you give a quick glance at the materials in Hyunjin’s arms, “I’m not going to tell you to get out. There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry. You know where everything is, since you invite yourself over so much. But I’m done helping, at least until you start being truthful.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes lost their intensity as he watched you swing your bag over your shoulder. Putting the bandages on the counter, he asked in confusion, “Where are you going?”

“Out.” 

“It’s ten in the evening,” Hyunjin retorted, moving to put on his leather jacket as well.

“That didn’t seem to stop you.”

“That’s totally different.”

You nodded sarcastically, “Of course, everything’s different for you.”

“Stop being difficult,” the boy sighed, as if he was tired of fighting with you, but that only infuriated you more, because why was he speaking like you were the one making things hard for him?

“Sorry, I’ll get out of your hair then,” you said humorlessly, pulling open the door to welcome the biting cold. It seemed like it was only then that Hyunjin realized that you were being serious about leaving, because his eyes grew wide as he stretched out his hand instinctively.

“Wait, Y/N—,” you slammed the door shut before Hyunjin could finish. You could hear him making his way towards you, walking as fast as he could down the hallway, so you ran.You sprinted down the street, turning corners by instinct to get as far away from Hyunjin as you could. 

Congratulations, you told yourself as tears dripped down your face.

You just pushed away the only person you had ever desperately wanted in your life.

v. 

By the time you made it to Jisung’s house, you were probably bawling. He lived pretty close to you, which was actually the reason the two of you became friends in the first place. Unlike Hyunjin, Jisung wasn’t wealthy. He wasn’t even well off, and you knew his parents were often out late at night to work double shifts, just like your mom. So, there was a high possibility that Jisung was home alone.

You punched the doorbell with unnecessary ferocity, your arms crossed tightly to defend yourself from the cold. To your luck, Jisung was still awake, and you heard him shouting as the door unlocked.

“Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?” He asked worriedly, pulling you into a quick hug, “It’s so late and—are you crying? What happened?”

Jisung dragged you into the house, sitting you down in the living room as he wrapped you in a thick blanket. His immediate kindness only made you more emotional, and you continued sobbing into your hands. Jisung had disappeared for a few minutes to return with a cup of hot tea, since you were freezing.

“Woah, woah, what’s going on?” 

Gently, he pulled your hands away from your face. You must’ve looked like a mess, red-faced with tears all over, but Jisung didn’t mention anything, only crouching in front of you while gently comforting you. 

“I fought with Hyunjin,” you said when you could finally breathe properly.

Jisung frowned, “Was Hyunjin at your place?”

You nodded, “He comes over every week whenever he’s all bruised up and hurt, a-and today I guess I was just really sick of him coming to me but he won’t ever tell me what happened and then everything just blew up—“

“Y/N, breathe,” Jisung stroked your hair to calm you down, because you were hyperventilating at that point, “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“He hates me.”

“I don’t think Hyunjin will ever be capable of hating you,” Jisung let out a chuckle, as if he knew something you didn’t, “As cringy as it is to say, that idiot cares about you more than he cares about anyone else in the universe. He was probably was just too riled up from earlier to think about what he was saying.”

“What happened?”

Jisung looked conflicted, and for a moment, you thought that he wouldn’t tell you either, “He got into a fight,” he said cautiously, as if he were treading on thin water.

Even through your tears, you couldn’t help but scoff, “Really? I thought he just fell down every single staircase he walked on.” 

Jisung cracked a smile, looking visibly relieved that you were able to joke around, “Hyunjin…has a knack for pissing off the wrong people, and that tends to get him in trouble.”

“He’s also the son of some really fucking rich parents, so there’s eyes on him wherever we go. Whether he wants it or not, people will know who he is,” Jisung continued, moving to sit beside you on the couch, “It didn’t help that freshman year Hwang Hyunjin was angst embodied in an attractive, athletic body and he was able to punch people left and right but still relatively get away with it.”

“As much as he got away with it before, that shit catches up to you eventually, and now there’s a lot of pissed off people that want to settle the score with him.”

“What, so he just hosts a fight club where everyone lines up to kick his ass?” 

Jisung laughed, “I think you’re underestimating Hyunjin, Y/N.” 

“Well, he’s the one showing up beat up every week, so I don’t have much to go on,” you replied sarcastically.

“Trust me when I say this, Hyunjin knows how to throw a punch,” Jisung said, and the truthfulness behind his voice slightly worried you, “And Hyunjin doesn’t really look for trouble anymore, at least not like before. If anything, he’s getting caught up in shit mostly because of us.” 

“Us?” you frowned, “Who’s ‘us’?” 

“Did you really think that Stray Kids was just a dumb posse name we made up to be the next Mean Girls of high school?” 

“Absolutely, and you will never convince me otherwise,” you said, deadpan.

Jisung rolled his eyes and ruffled your hair, “Can you stop deflecting? I’m trying to be serious and answer your question,” a smile betrayed the corner of his lips, and you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter just spending time with him.

“Look, Stray Kids don’t just prance around the school and do dumb stuff,” Jisung said, “We do bad things, things that could get us in huge trouble. We hack into companies to expose exploitation. We steal and sell in markets that absolutely are not legal. None of us are good people.”

You were still reeling from the load of information that just got dumped on you, but you weren’t going to allow Jisung to fall into that self-deprecating hole, “You’re a good person,” you said firmly, “The rest of the boys are good people, too. You wouldn’t be comforting me in the middle of the night if you weren’t a good person.”

Jisung managed a smile, “You’re always so determined to see the good in people you care about,” he gently took your hand in his, “I wish you could stop and see the good in yourself sometimes.”

There wasn’t anything you could say to that. You knew your worth, and you knew your limitations, so what was he talking about? You weren’t ever insecure about your status either, just bitter.

The boy seemed to understand your disbelief at his words, because he asked softly, “Why can’t you accept that Hyunjin is in love with you?”

You leapt out of your seat, standing away from Jisung as if stung, “He’s not in love with me!” you snapped, your anger rising to hide your sadness, “We were friends at most, and after today, I’m not sure we’re even acquaintances anymore.” 

Jisung grew heated too, because he was tired of seeing you unconsciously hold yourself back from finding love because you thought you didn’t deserve it, “You’re so observant about everyone around you. You saw that Jeongin had a cold days before we realized. You say that Chan was having problems sleeping, so you lightened his schoolwork. You saw that Minho liked to dance, so you made arrangements for him to join the school dance club even though he wasn’t a student. You notice everything, big and small, so why can’t you see that everything Hyunjin does revolves around you?” 

“Hyunjin has grown up so much in just these last three months, because of you,” he spoke softly, “He stopped smoking, which we had all agreed was a lost cause since we’ve tried to stop him for years. He hasn’t brought a random girl home for months. I know you’re stressed out because he shows up all beat up every week, but he would’ve shown up every other day if you had known him before. He doesn’t even like to fight anymore, it’s more of a necessity and a consequence from his past.”

“He’s so happy now, because of you,” Jisung whispered, pulling you back to the couch, “Why can’t you see that you mean the world to him?”

“I can’t,” you said, trying desperately to control your voice, “If I give myself that slightest bit of hope, I’ll be disappointed. If I let him in completely, he could destroy me. Jisung, look at me now, I’m trying to push him out and everything he does still hurts,” your voice cracked as you struggled to hold back your tears.

“We’ll just hurt each other,” you said quietly, Jisung pulling you into his arms as your cried silently. He silently wished to whoever was listening that you’d see Hyunjin would never, not in a million years, wish you pain. He was forced to watch for months as the two of you teetered around each other, too afraid to make a move but so desperate for each other’s company.

“We’re too different to make it work, Jisung.”

vi.

Going back to school the next day was torture. You had stayed the night at Jisung’s house, too drained to walk back home when it was so dark. You didn’t feel any better in the morning, and when you stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, your face was still puffy and blotchy from crying yourself to sleep. 

Jisung and you walked to school together, and he seemed determined to make you feel better. You humored him as best you could, because you really were grateful for his company. Jisung could make you forget about your problems, if only for a moment, and he joked and quipped the whole bus ride to the school. 

By the time you made it to your locker, Jisung following you with his books already in hand, you had managed to push the Hyunjin fiasco out of your head almost entirely. Yes, it still hurt, like a dull ache that wouldn’t go away, but you weren’t going to let him affect the rest of your life. 

“I’m hurt,” Jisung was saying with that adorable pout on his face, “Stop slandering my breakfast!”

“Half of the egg shell was literally in my rice,” you replied, the corner of your lip quirking up amusedly, “I can still feel the scratches in my throat.”

“Oh, very funny,” Jisung let out an exaggerated laugh, “Remind me never to cook for you again.”

“That’s fine by me. Honestly, maybe I should make breakfast for you and give it to you at school. After this morning, I am highly concerned,” you said cheekily, before you sensed someone watching you. Turning around, your smile fell as Hyunjin looked at you from down the hall, his gaze unreadable. 

The two of you stared at each other, and all of the pain from the night before came flooding back. He was still sporting those nasty cuts on his face, and his knuckles were wrapped poorly, no doubt done after you had left. He looked conflicted, as if wondering whether he should confront you. You probably had the same look on your face because, as much as you two had your differences, you didn’t want to leave any bad blood between the two of you. Hyunjin’s body moves towards you as his mouth opened to say your name and–

“Y/N, are you coming?” Jisung called from behind you, delicately tugging at your sleeve, and the connection snapped like a dry rubber band. Hyunjin stopped in his tracks, his whole body physically tensing up as if he had been slapped. The guilty expression had disappeared, and as you turned to give Jisung a gesture that you’ll follow him soon, you noticed his jaw clench angrily. His hand clenched into a tight fist as he leveled you with that infamous Hwang Hyunjin glare, the one that froze your heart. With a newfound vigor, he spun away from you, and without a look back, turned to walk down the opposite direction of the hallway without even giving you a chance to speak. 

Utterly stunned by what had just happened, you blankly followed Jisung as he gently led you into the physics classroom, only answering him with nods or shakes of your head. 

In that split second, Hyunjin’s eyes had flashed with so many emotions that you couldn’t decipher all of them clearly. Anger, frustration, coldness were just the few you could see. You found part of you wanting to run after him, to yank him by the arm and ask him what the fuck his problem was. But the final bell stopped you in your tracks, and you turned reluctantly towards your physics classroom.

As you pulled out your textbooks to get ready for class, your eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from the empty desk three seats to your left. Hyunjin’s normal desk. Was he skipping again? Frowning, you unconsciously began tallying the amount of absences he’s received in the last month. What if the teacher gets fed up suddenly and sends him to detention? 

Without any conscious thought, you had begun fretting over Hyunjin again. Then, halfway through class and with your notebook filled with less than satisfactory doodles, you came to the mind boggling realization that it wasn’t your job to worry anymore, especially not when he paid back your kindness with distrust. 

“Y/N, do you want to stop daydreaming and solve this equation on the board?” A sharp voice pierced your thoughts, and you flinched at your teacher’s pointed glare. You took a long look at the question as your brain began to put the pieces together, and stood up calmly, taking the chalk from your teacher’s hand. 

Feeling the scorn boring down your back (your teachers never really liked you, the result of being too smart but too poor to afford full tuition), you solved the problem methodically and without hesitation, not even glancing at your teacher’s face. You knew it was right, anyway.

Jisung gave you a discreet thumbs up as you sat back down, shutting out your teacher and her obnoxious droning. A discreet slip of ripped notebook paper slid onto your desk, and you turned to look at Jisung who raised his eyebrows expectantly. With a quick roll of your eyes, you quietly glanced down at the note.

Did anything happen with Hyunjin today?

You scowled, scribbling furiously. No, it’s literally nine in the morning. Focus on class, idiot.

Stop moping, you scolded yourself. Your world doesn’t revolve around Hyunjin. You’ve gotten by every day without him, and now that he won’t be there anymore, you can still get by. You thought of his smile, the one that made his eyes disappear, the one that made him lean against you for support from laughing too hard. It hurt, but after seeing Hyunjin’s hardened gaze in the morning, you supposed it really was too late.

You spent the rest of the day drowning yourself in your studies, and Hyunjin’s seat remained empty.

vii.

School felt like those bombs that had frustratingly slow countdowns to them, and you were never as glad to leave as you were that day. Fortunately for you, student council wasn’t scheduled to meet after school, and you were one of the first people to step out of the building.

Your mother wasn’t picking you up this time. Actually, she'd been coming by less and less once she had found out that you actually had someone to accompany you home. You glanced at the time on your phone: 4 pm. And unconsciously, you found yourself sitting down on the side of the steps, waiting for your usual partner. 

The moment it dawned on you, your face flushed, because how childish was it of you to expect Hyunjin to walk you home? You shuffled around awkwardly, but didn’t stand up. As much as you hated to admit it, you really wanted to walk with Hyunjin. Maybe it was just a safety issue, and maybe it was just your hope for a final attempt to patch together your fragmented relationship.

Besides, despite everything that would happen in his life, Hyunjin always remembered to go home with you. It was almost a ritual at this point, and as the minutes passed with no Hyunjin in sight, began to regret taking his presence for granted. 

Five minutes, then ten minutes, and finally fifteen minutes passed, and you were ready to give up. Sighing quietly, you swung your backpack over your shoulder and you began to walk home alone. You stared at the school door forlornly, as if your staring would make him magically appear. Of course it didn’t. 

You could almost hear him as you walked by yourself. You could almost smell his expensive cologne, hear his high pitched giggles, feel his hand brushing over yours. And more than any other moment in the past two days, you felt utterly, completely alone again. 

It was an “again” situation, you tried to tell yourself, this isn’t any different from middle school, when all you knew were loud snickers, damp notebooks, and marked up desks. You were back to square zero, but the most painful part was that you had gotten to at least square ten smoothly before getting emotionally sucker punched in the gut. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand as you walked down the empty streets, listening to whatever music you had saved on your playlists. Actually, a lot of the music you listened to was recommended by Hyunjin whenever you hung out at his apartment. He had pretty good music taste, if you had to admit.

It was a text from Jisung, asking if you had gotten home safely. You replied with a smiley face, since you weren’t exactly at home yet but there were only a couple of streets left. 

You were still paying attention to your phone when your peripheral vision caught two men hanging out on the left side of the street. It was a rather narrow alleyway, and now that you were already walking, there wasn’t a way you could turn back without seeming obvious. One looked frighteningly well built, and the other was lean and tall, smoking a cigarette casually. Your eyes kept them in check as you tried to pick up your pace, and it soon became pretty clear that neither of them were drunk, which was suspicious. Only drunk people mingled in streets like this one.

You felt a leering pair of eyes track your movement as you passed them, your heart beat erratically as you prayed that you were only imagining things. The smell of smoke filled your nose, but you refused to give away any indication that you had noticed the men. You were five feet past them and beginning to lower your guard when you felt it. An unfamiliar hand grabbed your shoulder, and your heart jumped up to your throat. 

There was no time to check whether the hand was hostile or not, so you reacted instantly, whipping around to slam your elbow into the outstretched arm. It was the big man, who grunted in surprise and let go of your shoulder instinctively. You took the split second to start running, but your meager attack did little to deter such a well built man, and he grabbed you by the waist, dragging you as you screamed. 

You thrashed and thrashed, kicking and punching with very little force behind it. Your brain ran on overdrive, and in a last ditch effort, you managed to yank out the metal hair clip in your hair. It wasn’t sharp, but it did have a blunt pointed edge, and as your long hair fell out of its bun, you slammed the clip into the man’s thigh. 

It broke through the skin, you could feel it and hear it as the man howled. Without missing a beat, you rammed it into the same spot again, and his hold on your waist loosened. Moving around, you stabbed his leg one more time before you managed to slither away, wasting no time as you bolted as fast as you could.

A sharp pain caused you to shriek; you had forgotten about the second person who finally decided it was time to get involved. He caught the ends of your long hair, and with a harsh tug, he yanked you to the ground, your hands scraping along the rough pavement.

“I have to give it to you,” the man sneered as you scrambled to regain your bearings, “You weren’t as easy as I thought you would be.” 

As he thought? Was he waiting for you? You didn’t even know who he was! Your brain was woozy from adrenaline, and your thoughts ran a mile a minute. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone fight Yekwon like that,” the man sounded mildly intrigued, as if studying a surprising science experiment, “And since he’s over there moaning like a bitch, I guess I’ll have to return the favor for him.”

Without warning, a foot slammed into your stomach and you gasped for air, the pain spreading all over your body as you curled around yourself. Something was definitely bruised or cracked or broken, and you couldn’t hold the tears that spilled, every breath you took sending a wave of shock from your abdomen. 

You just wanted it to end. The fight had left you, and when the man pulled you back up on your feet using the back of your collar, you could only struggle half heartedly. He seemed displeased that you kept your head down, trying desperately to avoid eye contact, and he pulled your hair backwards, forcing you to look at him.

“I have to admit, you’re pretty cute,” In any situation, the man would have been relatively good looking, but all you could see was a monster that you couldn’t escape, “I can see why he likes you.”

The smile on his face turned manic, the hand tangled in your hair moved like a flash, slapping you so hard your face went numb, “You shouldn’t waste your time with the likes of him,” he sounded sad, “I’m much better company, don’t you think-?”

“Really? Assaulting random girls on the streets,” you could almost cry because you knew that voice. You were sure it was him, even though the man’s body blocked you from his sight, “Damn, Minhyuk, you just keep lowering my expectations.”

“You insult me,” Despite being caught, Minhyuk’s voice rang gleefully, his grip going back to your hair as he swung you into view, “Do you think I have that much time on my hands?”

You’ve seen Hyunjin angry before. You’ve seen when his innocence is overcome by the darkness in his heart. You’ve seen the many faces of Hyunjin that he had when his walls were up and armed. But the moment the realization hit him that it was you, Hyunjin had never looked more utterly terrifying.

“Shocked?” Minhyuk laughed, unaware of Hyunjin’s change in attitude as he lapped up his own small victory, “Did you really think you could fuck with my business without some payback?” 

“You hit her.” 

Hyunjin’s absolute calm was unsettling, causing shivers down your spine as you watched Hyunjin fall deeper and deeper into his own rage. The light in his eyes had faded, and was replaced with a look of cold fury. He stared at you, growing angrier with every wound he counted. 

A moment passed and a whirl of black flew at you. The grip on your hair immediately disappeared as Minhyuk was suddenly thrown back by a bullet-like punch to the face. You rolled away, taking cover on one side of the street, watching as Hyunjin destroyed Minhyuk one punch at a time.

“You fucking hit her,” he was snarling now, grabbing hold of Minhyuk’s shirt and slamming him against the wall. In vain, the man tried to fight back, but a Hyunjin pushed over the edge wasn’t someone you could just beat. 

Jisung was right. Hyunjin could pack a punch. 

A chilling crack cut through the air as he snapped the man’s wrist with a deliberate force, “You don’t get to fucking touch her with your filthy fucking hands!”

Minhyuk fell to the floor, whimpering in pain, and the burly man stood farther away, his hand still clutching the wounds that continued to leak blood onto the ground. He stared at Hyunjin with a mix of hatred and fear, but didn’t make any moves to attack him. 

Hyunjin, after assessing the situation and knowing that the fight was over, ran to your side, his hands hovering over your face, but too afraid to touch you, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, fuck.”

Your heart couldn’t stop racing as you tried to control your breathing, “It’s fine,” you panted, a hand over your chest, “I’m fine.”

You didn’t notice the broken smile as Hyunjin repeated your words softly, “Yeah, you’ll be fine, I promise.”

As gently as he could, he pulled you up, swing his leather jacket over your shoulders as he maneuvered you onto his back. You instinctively buried your face in the crook of his neck as he murmured with the softness he’d only ever give to you, “Let’s patch you up at my place.”

Before he turned the corner away from the alley, he addressed the Minhyuk once more, his voice coming out as a low, frightening snarl, “If you so much as breath near Y/N again, I’ll break more than just your wrist.”

viii.

You must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because when you finally realized where you were, Hyunjin was already setting you down delicately on his couch. Even with his efforts to be as gentle as possible, every movement caused you pain, and you bit your lip to avoid crying out. Taking his bulky leather jacket off your shoulders, Hyunjin absorbed the sight of your unseemly wounds. 

His jaw clenched tightly with every bruise, every scratch that he saw, and he tore his eyes away from your body before he’d actually erupt in fury. 

“I’ll grab some supplies,” Hyunjin spoke softly, trying his best not to startle you, “Let me know if you need anything.” 

Your instincts urged you to respond, but you couldn’t even expend the energy to nod, much less say anything. At the corner of your eye, you caught the helpless expression on Hyunjin’s face and your insides turned. The moment he was out of sight, your hand crept up to your stomach, which was rippling with low currents of pain. You gently felt around, and something was definitely bruised.

Hyunjin walked back into the living room, freezing when he saw the pained expression on your face as you clutched your stomach.

“Did he,” the boy gripped the bandages in his hand tightly, “did he touch you there too?”

You shook your head, trying to ignore the pain, “No, but he kicked me pretty hard.”

“He kicked you,” Hyunjin repeated, his expression growing murderous, “I should’ve killed him.”

“Don’t. It’s just bruised, anyway,” you dismissed his worries, since Hyunjin didn’t sound like he was joking. 

Hyunjin didn’t look like he was convinced, but he let it slide for now. As the anger died down, he seemed to shrink in confidence. He avoided your eyes, gently starting to disinfect the multitude of scratches that marred your legs. You stared at him as he worked, your brain moving sluggishly as you tried to decipher his silence. 

He had begun methodically, obviously having cleaned injuries before. It made you wonder about the disaster that was Hyunjin’s bandages on his knuckles, especially since he seemed to know exactly what to do. As he made it to your arms, though, you noticed that Hyunjin had gradually started trembling. It was slight at first, his hand shaking as he wrapped a particularly nasty cut on your elbow, but as he worked down to your palms, it became rather alarming. You tried to catch his expression, but the long black hair hid his face from your view.

Hyunjin’s movements began to grow less steady as his hands began to grow out of control, and that was when you pulled yourself out of your trance-like state. Closing your fingers over the hand that was currently dabbing alcohol over your palm, you prodded gently, “Hyunjin, are you okay?”

The boy froze, his hand tensing in your grasp. You were beginning to worry that he had stopped breathing when he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and defeated, “God, I really don’t deserve you.”

Your heart jumped as you frowned, “What are you talking about?” 

“It’s my fault. This is all my fault,” Hyunjin said brokenly, “Minhyuk found you because of me. Minhyuk targeted you because of me. He fucking lay his hands on you,” his breath hitched as even the mention of the incident sent his blood boiling, “because I was too selfish to let you go.” 

You could only listen with your eyes wide as you felt Hyunjin clutch your hand like a lifeline.

“I always knew I would never be able to move forward from my past,” he started, “Even after Chan, even after clearing much of my name on files, I realized that it was hopeless, because no one will ever really forget my actions.”

“Chan told me to be careful, told me that spending so much time with you would put you in danger,” Hyunjin said quietly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb, “But how could I stay away when you’re the one person in the world that actually makes me want to keep on living?”

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you couldn’t even spend time to mull over what essentially was an indirect confession, too busy trying to understand what Hyunjin was trying to get to, “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he said earnestly, finally looking at your directly as if trying to convey his sincerity, “I know you don’t think that’s true, but you mean more to me than anyone else in the universe. I’m not lying, Y/N, please understand—I need you to believe me, please—“

“Okay, okay, I believe you,” your unoccupied hand buried itself in Hyunjin’s hair as you rubbed his scalp placatingly because Hyunjin had begun to grow desperately frantic. 

He leaned into your touch, as if it brought him a sense of comfort that nothing else could in comparison, “I thought it was fine,” he whispered, “I’m with you all the time anyway, I could protect you if something happened. I was so fucking stupid, and the one day I couldn’t make it in time to walk you home, you got hurt.”

You hummed to show that you were still listening, your hands continuing to massage through his soft locks in an effort to calm him down. 

“I’m so jealous of Jisung,” Hyunjin confessed suddenly, catching you off guard, “He can spend time with you so comfortably, and you two are so close, I hate that I’ll never be able to understand you the way he does.”

“Jisung and I understand each other due to circumstances,” you agreed slowly, “But we don’t have to live similar lives to understand each other, Hyunjin. Don’t you think we’re connected by something else?”

Hyunjin opened his mouth to reply before shutting it immediately, his eyes exposing his hesitation. When you gazed at him questioningly, he steeled his nerves, and spoke the words that had been threatening to burst out of his chest for the last three months.

“I’m in love with you.” 

Your jaw went slack, “Y-you’re—what?”

“I’m in love with you,” Hyunjin repeated more definitively, but his voice was tinged with a sort of resignation, as if he had completely accepted that his confession wouldn’t be reciprocated, “I have been for months.”

“But—you never,” you struggled to get your words out as, “you always pulled away from me whenever we started to get closer. You’re so clingy with everyone else but you always avoid me.”

Hyunjin chuckled,  “Y/N, if I let myself fall, I’ll never be able to stop liking you.”

“And why is that a bad thing?”

“Because I can’t be in love with you!” Hyunjin said frustratedly, ”I’m too dangerous, too broken, too scared to treat you right. I’m not good for you, Y/N.”

“Why don’t I get to decide that?” you asked just as fervently.

Hyunjin flashed with hurt, “Stop phrasing it like that.”

You frowned, “Like what?”

“Like you love me.”

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you sighed, a smile peeking at the corner of your lips, “I can tell you with absolute certainty. I’m also in love with you.”

Hyunjin froze for a long, torturous moment before his eyes grew impossibly wide as he grabbed both your hands, “Really?” His voice sounded so innocent and so hopeful, and all you wanted to do was to wrap your arms around him and fall in his embrace.

“Really.”

Hyunjin leaned in closer towards your face, your foreheads touching and his hands delicately placed on your arms, “I’m worried that I won’t be good enough for you,” he murmured, “I’m scared that I’ll put you in danger. You deserve the world, Y/N, and I’d give it to you in a heartbeat, but I’m afraid that I won’t be able to.”

“I don’t need the world, Hyunjin,” you brushed his cheek as your face flushed a bright pink. He was so close, you could count his eyelashes and see every imperfection on his face, “I just want you to let me in.”

Hyunjin giggled, his breath fanning your face. Cupping your face with his hands, your lips were only millimeters apart when he answered, “Deal.”

As his lips pressed against yours with all the gentleness and love that Hyunjin held for you, your heart finally lost the weight you’d been carrying ever since you realized how far you’d fallen for him. And maybe, just maybe, you two loved each other enough to make this work.

#hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin scenarios #stray kids #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #my fics

[bbrandy2002]

Wacky Drabble #16: What Goes Around

Part 2 of Something Flubbed…

This is part of @emceesynonymroll #wackydrabbles

Liam x Riley

Catch up with Part 1

A/N: What started as a crack drabble about tumblr reblogs, of all things, has somehow morphed into a semi-actual story. I'm still scratching my head on how I did it and have just decided to let my Liam and Riley tell the story. Its still mostly crack yo!

Prompt: Was I not supposed to

Word count: 1322

Liam’s right eye was twitching as he shot her a look of pure hell and contention. He stammered for words, unsure of what to say or even think. The last thing he ever expected from Riley was infidelity, believing their marriage was something special, something sacred, something she respected and was devoted to as much as he was. That she had written, in a mediocre fashion, the details of a courtyard tryst with Drake, his best friend of all people, and even relished in the fact that she was doing so, was next to unforgiveable in his mind.

Riley approached her husband apprehensively, wanting to explain herself, if she even could. She clasped her hands together firmly, attempting to control the visible trembling. She knew this was bad, but, was hopeful it could be cleared up quickly. At this point, the truth had to be better than what she assumed he was thinking. Before she was able to inch too close, he held his hand up to stop her. With his mist filled eyes, the ones that were breaking her apart, he began his scathing remarks. “First off…..your friend here just sent you a message asking if some girl named Alyssa should fuck me at Drake’s funeral”.

“Aww, she’s killing Drake off”, her posture slumped as she shook her head disappointingly. Her gaze met his again; realizing he really was in no mood for banter. “Liam, It’s not what you think ”

“Secondly”, he continued with a raised voice, cutting her explanation off, “Did you fuck Drake in a courtyard in Fydelia, writing….and I quote, “his cock is much larger than Liam’s”.

Riley swallowed hard, searching for the right words, ones that were truthful, yet, not so hurtful. She inhaled deeply, preparing to come clean of her offense, "Sweetheart, its just fanfiction and all that Drake stuff was just a really, really bad bet I lost. I swear, I have never, ever been with Drake."

Liam quirked his brow, "a really bad bet, huh?"

"Yes", she answered, tugging nervously at the tie on her robe. " I bet Burnsy I knew Drake better than she knew you, and...."

"Burnsy?"

"...but, when I took Anitah's quiz..."

"Quiz?"

"I didn't know about the mojitos and bears and a bunch of other shit and then Beeps had to make..."

"Beeps?"

"those monster Drake kids that are on my blog and I had to write smut, but, I didn't know how to write smut, so I had to watch porn....oh my god, there was so much porn, and ritachacha wanted to read it and...Im no ritachacha...so I drank and cried and binged on porn and bananas for two weeks solid and I attempted to hide the post but these turmblr girls are thristy and can sniff out smut, even the bad ones and Im so sorry Liam, Im so.....so sorry", she inhaled deeply trying to catch her breath from her long winded tangent.

"I have no idea what the hell you just said", he bit back, completely dumbfounded and baffled by her explanation.

"You don't understand what I said?"

"Do you?", he yelped.

Riley watched with trepidation as Liam tossed the laptop on the bed and eased himself up from the floor, wincing at the shooting pain in his back from the fall, rubbing and massaging the sore spot above his ass.

Riley moved towards him in an attempt to help, concerned about his injuries and wellbeing, but, he jerked away, hobbling to the other side of the room, keeping his back to her.

"Liam", her voice cracking as tears of shame began to fall. "Liam, please look at me....none of that is real..none of it...it was just a dumb bet".

He shot a glance sideways, still not completely looking at her, "so you wrote that you rode Drake's...collosus dick, harder than Seattle Slew because of a bet?".

She chuckled a little, amused by her husband's analogy, before quickly composing herself, "Was I not supposed to?", she replied innocently, "it was a bet, Liam...everyone knows you can't take back a bet".

Liam spun around to face her, shocked at the words that just spewed from her lips, "I see", he nodded, tapping the front of his chin. With a clenched jaw, he breathed deeply through his nose and exhaled sharply, his eyes speaking for him, full of disdain and hurt.

He strolled forward in her direction, stopping just shy of her petite frame. He leaned over until his reddened face was directly in front of hers and just inches apart, his voice clear and firm, "Then I bet your ass won't mind sleeping elsewhere tonight".

Riley's eyes widened, her mouth falling open, unable to find words. She watched in astonishment as he reached across the bed, retrieving her pillow before holding it out to her.

"You can't be serious?"

"Oh, I'm very serious", he stated matter-of-factly, "and if you want back in this bed anytime soon....or my "not as enormous as Drake's" cock, you will delete that fucking blog".

"I don't accept that bet, Your Majesty", she seethed, tossing the pillow back on the bed, sitting herself on the edge with her legs crossed and her hands folded on them. "I'm not going anywhere and I'm not deleting that blog".

Liam perched his lips, gliding his tongue along the inside of his cheek. Realizing she called his bluff, "Fine..", he yanked his pillow up and tucked it firmly under his arm, "I'll be in my study"

"Fine", she shrugged.

"Fine!"

Liam hastily exited the bedroom, slamming the door and did what he said he would do. He opened his desk drawer searching for anything that would take away the pounding in his head and the throb in his backside. He opened the bottle of Aleve and found it empty before throwing it across the room. He kept Riley's Midol in there too for when he needed to quell her bitchiness during certain times of the month. Helps with cramps, bloating, tension, backpain, headaches, irritablity, muscle aches and water weight gain, he had all of them.

Liam unloaded three into his mouth, washing them down with the bottle of whiskey he reserved for when Drake would drop by for a quick drink. He slumped down into his desk chair, still reeling from the audacity and nerve of his wife. He wanted her to feel as bad as he did at this moment, to see how her actions made him feel. It didn't matter if it was real or not, she wrote it. He knew in his heart she and Drake wouldn't betray him that way, but, did she want to? Did she really think his dick was small and that he was an asshole?

He thought to himself as he continued sipping on his drink, how could he make her see and feel exactly the way he does? He contemplated his options for several minutes, when, like a spark igniting, it came to him....two can play this game.

Liam's lips curled into a sinister grin, his eyes lighting up, as he pulled his chair closer to his desk, turning the computer on. He downed the rest of the bottle, tossing it aside, as he cracked his knuckles, preparing to give Riley a little taste of her own medicine.

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

It was early Saturday morning when the sun just started to brighten the morning sky. A bright, warm ray shining through the balcony doors and landing squarely on Riley's face, her darkened complexion glowing more than usual. She yawned and stretched, feeling content from a good nights sleep.

Reaching her arm across the bed, she felt the emptiness of where Liam usually slept. Did she care that he was pissed off with her, of course. She loved him and never wanted to hurt him, but, she wouldn't be controlled, nor, intimidated by him. She was hopeful that by him sleeping in the study last night and a little time away from each other, it would cool him down and they could discuss this rationally.

With another big stretch and yawn, she noticed her laptop still sitting in the same spot on the bed Liam had left it last night. She lunged over and scooped the device into her arms.

Plugging in the charger, she fired up the app and immediately took note of the numerous tags she had from several of her mutuals for the same story. Curious, she clicked on the link taking her to a rather peculiar title:

"Liam Fucks Hana Five Ways From Sunday With His Enormous Dick"

A new collaborative drabble by @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore and newcomer @inyourfacerileybrooks-love-liam

NSFW 🍋🍋🍋

He had bamboozled her, and in doing so, somehow convinced Bleakmore to join into his scheme; she knew it was him.

"I'm going to slaughter him...LIAM!!!!!!!!"

Wacky Drabblers and Permatags: @emceesynonymroll @burnsoslow @jessiembruno @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @romanticatheart-posts @stopforamoment @katedrakeohd @pedudley @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @drakesensworld @ao719 @janezillow @eileendannie @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @eileendannie @hopefulmoonobject

#liam x mc #wackydrabbles #liam x riley #trr liam #trh #trh fanfic #choices trh #trh liam #trh mc #the royal romance fanfic #the royal heir #the royal romance #long post

[lukeysgirl]

The Note Tree ❋ L.H. Pt.7

Part S E V E N 

Summary: A cherry blossom tree, residing at the farthest part of the schools courtyard. Nobody dwelled there, and you didn’t care much for it. Until you kept hearing one song played over and over, with lyrics changed to touch at your curiosity. They knew you were listening, and one day you gave in and made your way to the pink tree. Waiting for you, a series of notes tied to a single strand of string.

Word Count: 3k+

AN: eep, i came back early from my small vacation aha ^^ anyways, hi! im so happy you guys are getting to like this series (makes me smile lots). im so sorry this part was a little delayed as i was away w/o my pc. but im here and will try to write much faster x oh, and 100 notes please <3 

Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

I M A G I N E 

Sunday 

After sleeping through the rest of Saturday, you decided to stroll outside on a Sunday morning. And, of course, it was raining. 

You draped on a large, gray sweater, the kind that was actually hand knit and not a generic made from a company. Your legs were hugged by navy blue leggings, which was ornate with unintentional holes. You shoved on a pair of green-gray Converse as you walked down the middle of the quiet, vacant road. 

Your head was buzzing. Your body was slowly adapting back to its usual, completely-in-control setting as you slowly trotted down the road. The black road ornate with yellow streaks worth of paint shined from Natures produce. You felt the cool dollops moisten your face, feeling somewhat refreshed but annoyed. It hadn’t occurred to you to get an umbrella until you were too far to go back for one. 

As you walked slowly, you suddenly found light making the road glisten before you. A honk proceeded, and that’s when your brain crashed. Pain ensured through your skull as you quickly held your head with your hand. A loud, high-pitched beep began in  your ears, and you had begun offering deals to the Devil to make it all stop. So you walked over to the sidewalk, as that’s what you assumed the car wanted. But it remained still when you moved, so you turned to look over in curiosity. 

“What the fuck are you doing in this rain?” A distant voice called, having you squint your eyes to see Luke Hemmings in the drivers seat. Just your luck. “Get in here!” 

The Australian’s beckoning made you somewhat reluctant, but it was Luke. Your eyes scanned his ride, seeing a black colored who-knows-what right before you. It wasn’t required to know car names or brands, so you hadn’t been bothered to fill your mind with none of that. Slowly, you welcomed yourself back on the road before opening the door to shotgun and hopping in. 

“What’re you doing out in the rain like that, Y/N?” Luke demanded, his voice 10 times as loud as you slowly and gently closed the car door. You hissed in pain, waving at him to lower his volume as you clipped the seat belt on. “Hungover?” 

“Apparently,” you muttered, your voice sounding incredibly muffled. Your eyes diverted to Luke to eye him a bit. White tee, black jeans, black converse-- the usual with Luke. His lanky being was bent due to the seat, but his posture was proper with his blonde hair droopy and weak due to the rainfall. It was strange to see Luke out of school, even if that has happened often before. But this was a first to actually hop into the boys car. 

“I’ll shut off my music then,” Luke said simply as he disconnected his iPhone from the AUX cord that was connected to the car. You appreciated this gesture and mumbled a quick thank you as Luke also began winding up the windows. “Back to my ask, though. Why are you out in the rain like that?” 

“Like what?” You asked, looking down at your damp clothing. “I’m not butt naked, Hemmings.” 

“But you could’ve at least tried to stay dry,” Luke said quietly, having you watch as he twisted his torso to direct his body to the back of his car. He began reaching for something, having pain annoy your eyes when diverting towards the back. 

“I forgot my umbrella when it was too late,” you admitted, yawning right after. Tears began collecting in your eyes from it, indicating your exhaustion as Luke stopped his digging. Suddenly, Luke had tossed a warm objected on your lap. You felt the car begin to move as you stared down at the basil-colored object. It was a blanket, almost a small quilt as you rubbed your hands upon its silky texture. You opened it to spread it some more, feeling it cover all of your legs as you tugged it a bit up to cover your torso. You unintentionally too a whiff, and found it to smell exactly like Luke. 

“Have you eaten yet?” Luke asked quietly, having you look up at the windshield to see nothing but wet road. Water droplets hit the window as the wipers kept coming in on beat to smear them away. You shook your head no, too tired to keep using your vocals as you watched the road. “Alright, let’s go to a diner.” 

“I don’t have that kind of money,” you admitted embarrassingly. 

“I didn’t ask if you did,” Luke said simply, shutting you down as you watched the road in defeat. 

The two of you were seated in a booth, across from one another. 

80s music boomed the restaurant, thanking the restaurant mentally for the choice of Michael Jackson. People were ornate all over the retro scene, most of them being seniors. Wisps of red and shiny silver were the rhythm of the place, with waitresses forced to wear yellow polo’s and short, red skirts. They were skating around the place, having you question if they could be good at ice skating. 

“Order whatever you’d like,” Luke began, giving you his genuine, small smile as he held up his menu. You left yours lying on the table, studying the disgusting stains of food from previous customers. You then shut your eyes as you pushed your menu a bit away from you. “Do you already know what you want?” 

“I’m not eating anything,” you muttered, your sight pitch black as you listened to Billie Jean dance around the joint. 

“Oh?” Luke responded in a shocked tone. “Why not?” 

“Because you’re trying to pay for it,” you admitted with a gulp. “And I’m not in the mood to bother with debt.” 

“Then tell me this: why didn’t you eat at home?” Luke asked, having you open your eyes at his words. You couldn’t come up with a valid point without exposing the entirety of your life, having you purse your lips as you looked down at the menu. 

“I’m not hungry,” you lied, twiddling your thumbs as you listened to the rain become more harsh beside you. You were far too stubborn, and you could admit that proudly. Everyone hated owing people. Especially owing to someone as kind as Luke Hemmings. 

“Then I’ll just order everything on the menu, and eat as much as I can,” Luke began, diverting your eyes to see his stern expression. You were in disbelief, attempting to find bluff somewhere in his ocean eyes. But they hadn’t dared stared somewhere else, seeing nothing but seriousness in them. Luke then turned over and rose his arm, his eyes searching for a body. “Waitress!” 

“I’ll have pancakes,” you spat, grumpily slugging into the uncomfortable, red couch of the booth as a skater girl came over. She rose her notepad over, barely looking at you before ogling Luke. 

“What would you like?” The waitress asked kindly, seeming unsatisfied with her own performance. It was likely she thought you and Luke were a thing and was unable to flirt with him. You felt bad for mentally laughing at the girl as Luke told her the orders. You were far too tired to be bothered to stare her down and take in her appearance and features. As soon as she left, you diverted your eyes back to Luke and crinkled your nose. 

“She wanted to get in your pants,” you respond bluntly, having Luke snort before taking a sip of his tap water. He was quick to drop his smile and stared at you intensely, having you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Why were you so mean with Nadia?” Luke asked, having you stare at his immensely stern face. How did he get that from her wanting to fuck him? 

“Ha ha,” you sarcastically laughed as you grabbed your own cup and took a sip. “It’s not like I want to be. I’d rather save my energy than lash at her.” And that was the full and utter truth. 

“Then what was with the cruel remarks?” Luke began quietly. “I understand you defend yourself when she’s being a bitch, but it seemed like you had a genuine grudge on her.” 

“Ah, she was being dumb earlier at the party at the bar,” you said simply as you grabbed the covered straw at the side and began opening it. “She had started by calling me ugly, but that’s not the thing that really pissed me off.” 

“Oh? Enlighten me.” You felt suddenly challenged by Luke for some reason. It was stupid to request elaboration from you when your words should be the most trusted. At least, in your opinion. 

“I mean, she called Des an ape and made fun of Savannah’s dyslexia,” you replied, dropped the straw in the cup and watched it swirl down until it hit the bottom. You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling goosebumps dry from the coolness of the restaurant striking at your fairly damp clothing. “So if you wanted me to stand there like a useless piece of shit, you’ve got to be some sort of stupid. Racist and ignorant, that girl.” 

“Alex splashed her beer on her,” Luke tries. You laughed bitterly. 

“I don’t control the girl, but she needed to cool down,” you joked, but Luke didn’t take that kindly. He slammed both of his hands on the table, having it shake while releasing a very loud noise. Pairs of eyes around you diverted to your booth, having you look at Luke in shock as he looked immensely annoyed. A vein was crawling up his left temple as he studied you angrily. Intense ripples developed in both cups of water as it danced to the center of the cups before returning to the rims. 

“Stop acting like you were justified!” Luke barked, leaving you slightly agape as his ocean eyes danced with vexation. “I get what she said was disgusting but you’re not the bigger man here!” 

“Lower your fucking voice with me, Hemmings,” you growled, refusing to take that from him. Your heartbeat was loud and clear in your head, making your skull throb with Luke’s loud tone adding to it. “I don’t fucking understand what you want me to do-- apologize? You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’ll be doing that.” 

“No, but you should realize that you were not completely in the right here,” Luke barked, bending his fingers as the tips were firmly on the table. “Alexis went a little too far and you should not be proud of her.” 

“Why the hell are you trying to scold me like you’re my boyfriend?” You spat, having Luke’s eyes somewhat lighten from your words. You held yourself from saying father. “You’re clearly not my boyfriend, Luke, so don’t start.” You then stared a little more and allowed gears to run in your head. “Oh I see...” 

“See what?” 

“You’re her boyfriend, huh?” You accused, having you lean back and let out a cold chuckle. “What a catch she is. No wonder why you couldn’t help yourself last night and let me get taken by another pair of arms.” 

“Your assumptions are beyond me sometimes, Y/N,” Luke said with an awestruck smile. “I’m not dating Nadia, nor will I ever want to. It wasn’t my fault that you chose to let Nathan take you home. Did he even take you to your house?” 

“Oh man,” you dragged, smiling from disbelief as you stared at the obviously jealous Luke. “Are you jealous, Luke?” 

“Yes, I fucking am!” Luke barked, placing his forehead on his hand to let out an aggravated sigh. You shook your head, slightly pissed that he was using up your energy just because he was a little jealous. “I said I love you, Y/N. Did you think I’d be cool with Nathan taking you home?” 

“I asked you to take me home, Luke,” you began darkly, having Luke’s face soften. His eyebrows rose, his blue eyes turned like the sky, and those rough lips barely parted. “Did you think I was cool with Nathan taking me home?” Luke fell silent, having you let out a shaky sigh as you stacked the two menus and leaned it at the edge for a waitress to come and retrieve them. “That’s what I thought.” 

“But you didn’t do anything,” Luke began quietly, diverting his eyes down to his lap. “You didn’t beg for me to come over, you didn’t try to get out of his arms. You didn’t let me do what you asked of me, Y/N.” 

“Luke, I was fucking drunk,” you began, having Luke wince as you spewed those words. “I was drunk, and at that time, I relied on you. We’re not close, but you always put in effort in finding reason to be around me so I trusted you more than anyone there. My girlfriends were too busy having a ball and I didn’t want to ruin that for them. I didn’t want to ruin that for you either but I really wanted your help just this once. And I know how much you want to help me.” 

“Y/N...” Luke muttered, allowing himself to trail off so you can continue. But he didn’t stop there. “You left with that prick anyways, even when I was calling your name.” 

“Did you think I wanted to?” You glared at Luke, unsure as to how stupid he could really be. “Nathan took me home because you let me go and he caught me. I was drunk and he just so happened to pop up and steal your damn thunder. So I’m sorry if you’re mad but the only thing I owe you was going to the party and I did go. That’s it.” 

The two of you held an annoying silence. The several pairs of eyes remained as you locked eyes with Luke. His azure orbs glistened, seeing the pupils shake as they dilated. A sudden fatigue arrived and you found yourself moving towards the window to lean your head against the window. Luke watched you, seeing you stare outside where the rain was pouring and bodies of waters walked around with their portable roofs worth of umbrellas. 

“I’m sorry,” Luke said gently but you were quick to wave him off. 

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” you said simply while diverting your eyes back to the blonde. He moved over as well so he could be exactly across from you. “I’m only taking it if it’s solely over raising your voice at me because my head is searing right now.” 

“Ah shit, m’sorry, Y/N,” Luke began, his cheeks flaring pink as he as well leaned his head on the window. You two locked a stare and stayed there for a few moments to cherish the quietness. But the noise surged back after the two of you had quieted down and that made you disappointed. “I’m glad he took you home though. He gets some tolerance for that.” 

“Oh wow, how rewarding,” you began sarcastically, allowing a soft smile to paint your lips as Luke smiled back. You didn’t want to admit, but his gentle smiles were very sweet and full of warmth. It made the coolness that you currently felt disappear. “You’re something else, Luke.” 

“Ditto,” Luke said with a small snort. His sharp nose crinkled a bit as he did and something hit your heart so suddenly right after. “I’m surprised you didn’t have some dignified last words before storming out of the diner in the rain.” 

“D’you think this is a real like teenage drama show?” You exclaimed, having Luke chuckle as you rolled your eyes. “You wish. It’s effort to be petty, Luke. I’d also like to point out that the rain is falling onto earth like fucking bullets, so you’re insane if you thought I was gonna storm out of here over that.” 

“Ha,” Luke hummed, grinning at your stupid pun as you gave him a small smile. “I still am sorry for that really brief argument I started. Is there anything I could do to prove it?” 

Before you could say a thing, your waitress returned to place several plates of food on the booth’s table. Fluffy hot cakes with eggs and bacon, ornate with pepper and salts of the spice family. Bowls of berries that looked too much like art to even be real. Cups of milk and orange juice joined the party as she grabbed your menus. You and Luke muttered your gratitude, receiving a simple nod before she skated away. 

“Then I guess this will be it,” you began quietly. “I won’t pay for my meal and I won’t force you to take my money because I said I owed you.” 

That’s when Luke erupted with laughter. You watched as he covered his mouth, uttering soft laughter from his mouth as his eyes squinted. Through the slivers, you could see his blue eyes gradually being coated with hysterical tears as he let out his laughs. You could help but grin at how endearing it was. 

“Y/N,” Luke began as he picked up a fork and a knife. He sliced a fine cut of his hotcakes and took it in his mouth, chewing quickly before forcing it down. “I wasn’t going to take your money anyways.” You rolled your eyes, picking up your utensils as you looked at his triumph smile. 

“And you thought I was going to give you the money directly?” You hummed, cutting your own pancakes slowly. “I was going to hide it in a common place where you’d sift it out and find it. A pleasant surprise that’ll take you a few minutes to realize why it was there.” 

“Then you can keep your money,” Luke chuckled. 

“Huh?” You responded with a puzzled expression. “Why?” 

“Because the money would end up at my dick and I’d have to pay you for the service,” Luke replied cheekily, having you flush before throwing one of your blueberries at him. 

“PG, Hemmings,” you hissed, having him laugh as he took another bite of his food into his mouth. 

you already know-- tell me what you think right over here please and i hope you guys enjoyed this xx 

#Luke Hemmings #Luke Hemmings 5sos #Luke Hemmings 5 seconds of summer #Luke Hemmings imagine #Luke Hemmings imagines #Luke Hemmings story #Luke Hemmings writing #Luke Hemmings series #Luke Hemmings fluff #Luke Hemmings love #Luke Hemmings smut #Luke #Luke 5sos #Luke 5sauce #Luke 5 seconds of summer #Luke Hemmings 5sauce #Luke imagine #Luke imagines #Luke smut #Luke fluff #Luke story #Luke series #Luke is a cutie #Luke writing #5sos #5sauce #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5sos smut

[roommateofmyimagination-blog]

Chapter 11.8: Hop to this Date

❀ Jocelyne  ❀

“Keep your mind clear, little one.” Lappin spoke softly from in front of me.

“Why are we meditating?” I asked keeping my focus on breathing at a slow pace.

“Because training the mind is just as important as training your body.” he sighed lightly, “plus I need you to feel your power with in. You have been upgraded and you need to visualize that power.”

Opening one of my eyes, i saw that Lappin was staring back at me. “I cant focus, Lap.” I slumped forward.

“Because of your date?” he leaned back on his hands.

“Yeaaah, im excited and im not nervous about the date….Im nervous about this guy.” I fell over onto my left side and laid down on the soft rug in my room.

“Hmmmm, just be yourself?” Lappin fell onto his side that allowed him to keep looking at me, but he propped himself up on his elbow and put his cheek in his hand.

“See, i think thatd be a bad idea, im not….the gentlest of women.” I pouted and played with my black hair. “I feel like im going to intimidate him.”

“I know, and those are the reasons why i love you.” Lappin had a cocky smirk on his face.

“Laaaaaaaaappin, i cant date you. I need someone to give me hugs and kisses and attention and reach high places for me.” I whined and rolled over onto my face.

I heard lappin crawl over me and he laid down on my back, putting his head on mine. “Its okay Joce, i can give you love and kisses, I also am the best cuddle buddy.” he stroked my hair lightly. “I just cant reach high places for you.”

Laughing a bit, “get off of me you crazy rabbit!” I flailed a bit under him, kicking my legs and flapping my arms.

“Joceylne, you are a rabbit not a penguin. You dont need to know how to slide on your belly.” He sat up and sat on my lower back.

“Penguins are cooler.” I mumbled into the rug, “and cuter.”

“And even more useless than you think.” He pressed on my back with his hands, getting a pop out of my spine. “Joce, you are so tight right now.”

“IM STRESSSSSSSED.” I groaned loudly. “School and a dating life!? Shit is so stressful.”

“Drop school?” he mumbled.

“NO, i gotta get a degree.” I whined under him.

“Dont date then?” he pressed on my back more.

“Then i’d be loooooonely and you and i are both fucking short as hell.” I flailed my arms again.

“Then find a way to let the stress go.” He patted my back and rolled off of me, “Come, we’ll meditate again.”

“Ugh fine.” I sat back up and faced him. Crossing my legs and keeping a straight posture.

Lappin held his hands out to me on his knees. “Give me your hands.” placing my hands in his open palms, i sighed and closed my eyes once more. “Now clear your mind, dont control your breathing this time. Just let it come naturally.”

I did as he asked. The room was completely silent, all i could hear was maybe the quiet chirps of birds outside. I focused on my breathing, not controlling it but just to keep me focused. I could feel my whole body move with my breathing and Lappin holding my hands. He didnt speak once after either, he made no moves or noises. Lappin was the one who taught me how to meditate the right way and how to get over things with the practice of meditating and how to get over things. He trained me on how to let go of stress and over come things with just being able to breath and relax. We got to the point where i could meditate with him for a couple of hours now.

“Lappin.” i spoke softly.

“Hm?” he hummed softly.

“How long have we been meditating?” I asked, raising a brow with my eyes still closed.

“Hmmm, whens your date?” he asked, i could feel his body shift.

“Six? I think.” I answered his question.

“Uuuuuuh, then you’re going to be late.” He mumbled a bit.

“AAAAAH LAPPIN DAMN IT!!” i let go of his hands and stumbled over to my closest. Prying my shirt off and tossing it behind me and taking my shorts off and also throwing them back. I heard lappin get up and he had my clothes and put them in the hamper. “My underwear cute enough?” I turned to face him with my arms out.

“Yes, but why?” he eyed me up and down then raised an eyebrow.

“Ya never know what might happen.” I turned back around and searched through my closet for a cute shirt or dress or blouse. “Laaaaappin help, how cute do i wanna be?”

“Move child.” he shoved me out of the way and dug through my closet. “You are hopeless if i have to help dress you.” He tossed a few clothes out and onto the floor. He pulled out deep red sweater. “Here.” he held it back behind him and i took it and put it on letting one side fall off my shoulder. He moved to my dresser and found one of my short shorts and threw them at me and i put them on then he held out my shin high boots. “There you’re dressed.”

I put my boots on then worked on my hair. Pulling it up into cute even twin tails. “Cute?” I turned to face him.

“Adorable. Are you doing make up?” he asked and went to sit on my bed.

“Hmmm.” i hummed, “my make up from earlier still good?”

“Yes, you look precious.” he leaned back on the bed.

“Alright then we’re good! Bye lappin! Have fun with your few hours alone!” I ran over to him and hugged him then ran out the door. Going down the stairs of my house and going to the little cubby we keep by the door to grab my keys and wallet. “AH phone!” I ran back upstrais and lappin was holding my phone “thank you!” i snatched it from him and ran back down the stairs.

“JOCE if you dont stop that running, i will ground you!” Mom yelled from the kitchen.

“Sorry mom! In a rush!” i jogged into the kitchen and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Bye joce!” my younger two siblings, Parker and Jarrod sat at the table and were playing a card game.

“Bye guys!” I skipped out of the kitchen and saw one of my older brothers standing at the door. “Ugh Jirou its a daaate.”

“Okay with a guy you met...on a dating app.” Jirou leaned on the wall. He was one of my older brothers who was on the younger side with his twin Hiro. Some of us had very asian names and later on mom got lazy and gave us english names as the kids were born. “You know why im worried yeah? Dude could be a pedophile.”

“And i will kick his ass, now mooooove.” I tried to shove him out of the way. I shoved my hip into him and tried to move him out of the way, then he leaned all of his weight onto me. “HIRO please come get your left side!” I yelled loudly, everyone in the kicthen laughing.

Foot steps came halfway down the stairs. “Jirou!” Hiro leaned over the railing, “leave joce alone and get up here and do your homework!”

“Ugh fine smart version of me whos a good boy.” Jirou got off of me and patted my back. “Have fun, text one of us if he needs an ass kicking.”

“Will do! Bye everyone, love you!” I walked out the door and closed it behind me, getting in my car that was parked on the side of the road. Turning the car on and going in drive, i started mumbling. “Stupid lappin for distracting me, fuckin Jirou being a protective asshole.” the trip to redrobins wasnt long and i sat in the car trying to calm down. I sat in the driver seat and took in some deep breaths. Bringing my hands up when i breathed in with my palms up, held it in and flipped my hands over and pushed my hands down as i exhaled. “Alright, big girl time! Leggo!” I turned the car off and got out, slamming the door behind me and locking it up and took a quick jog to the front door.

Oh my god, I saw a certain tall man with dark skin and brown hair that was shaved on one side. And holy fuck he stood out amongst the four other fairly pale men. After talking to the group, i felt slightly releaved that Adrian wasn’t the one to set me up on this date, That just leaves Asher, Harvey or Desi...or lappin….but i dont think Lappin knows how to work a smartphone.

The date with Gabe went really well and the dinner with him was enjoyable. I felt like i got to know him alot and he seemed like a nice guy. He was really cute when he’d randomly apologized for things.I didnt mind driving him back to the dorms either. I was actually glad he asked me to because  he brought me to a very beautiful at night and im so glad he showed me this place. It was outstanding. I also got to learn a lot more about him as we walked around, and it just seemed really nice to be around Gabe actually. I felt like i didnt want to leave the date just yet and i could talk to him all night. But when i left him at his dorms, i had the stupidest idea to kiss him. I dont know what motivated me to kiss him, on his lips but i just really wanted to tease him a bit and show i was interested in him

I pulled up to the house and parked on the side of the road. I slammed my head onto the steering wheel and freaked out when i accidentally hit the horn and took my head off the wheel. Looking around, i slowly got out of the car and locked it back up again. Going in through the front door, i peered in to see if anyone was awake and there was almost everyone in the house staring at me from the kitchen door way.

“Can i help you?” I chuckled as i walked in and closed the door behind me.

“Okaerinasai, Joce.” walked to me and held her arms out for a hug.

Hugging her back. “Tadaima.” I let her go and looked back at the group of my siblings standing around. Hiro and Jirou standing over everyone with how tall they are. “And why are you all still here?”

“We wanna know about this guy!” Parker wedged himself out from between Jarrod and Hiro. he ran over to me and i lifted him up onto my hip. “Soooo was he cute?” he asked.

“He was adorable, his name is Gabe.” i booped his nose. “He goes to the same cool Jirou, Hiro and I go to.”

“Momma do we all have to go to that school?” Jarrod looked up at mom.

“No sweetie, its just were those three go and your oldest brother.” Mom messed up his hair. “Now, Anata futari wa neru.” she pointed up the stairs.I put Parker down so he and jarrod both ran up the stairs.”you too Souta.” She turned to look at my younger brother Souta who was born just after me. He was just a few years younger than me and was in high school. He went up the stairs after Parker and Jarrod started giggling.

Our house was fairly large, given the fact we had seven kids with myself included and my parents. My oldest brother, Katsu, didnt live with us anymore given he had a career of his own and his own place to live but he’d visit often. Dad wasnt home much because he traveled a lot for his work. Mom stayed at home to watch Souta, parker and Jarrod most of the time and take them to school and other things. Hiro and Jirou were both ahead of me in college. Hiro wanted to be a surgeon, Jirou had an accounting Major and decided to get a minor in dance. Hiro was the older than Jirou by a few seconds. Shouta was four years older than Parker and Parker was three years older than Jarrod.

Mom turned to look at Hiro and Jirou, “Are you both going to stand there?”

Hiro and Jirou looked at each other and spoke at once, “yes.”

“Ill tell you in the morning.” I put a hand on her shoulder, “I need to go check on Lappin.” I kissed her cheek and went up the stair. “Oyasumi!”

Hiro and Jirou both followed up after me,

“Night ma!” Jirou leaned off the railing and blew mom a kiss.

“Oyasumi no haha.” Hiro kissed mom on the cheek and followed up after Jirou.

“No telling us about your date?” Jirou whined behind me.

“Nope!” I started taking my hair down.

“Come on, Joce!” Hiro fast walked to keep up with us. “We just wanna know if you had a good time.”

I spun around and looked at the both as i took my last twin tail. “I did, he was very sweet. He’s smart and has a good degree.” I backed up into my door that was at the end of the hall. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must see my favorite boy in the world.” I opened my door and stepped in, blowing a kiss at the two, “Night boys.”

“Night Joce.” both of them said in unison.

Closing my door behind me, i saw Lappin sitting on my bed in human form. “Sooooooo?”  he raised an eyebrow.

“Laaaaaaapppiiiiin.” I ran over to hug him and tackled him to the bed. “This one was really cute.” I mumbled into his chest. “He’s sweet, smart, cute, funny.”

“So it went good.” he stroked my hair and patted my back. “Now, you do have to remember, you can not tell him about us...about this.” he picked my head up and wiggled his finger between himself and i.

“I know, but i dont know if i can lie to him.” I pouted and put my face back on his chest.

“Then you cant be with him.” Lappin mumbled.

Getting off of him quickly. “That was mean.” I puffed my cheeks out and turned to take my clothes off. Tossing my boots off then my shorts and shirt, I tossed them in the hamper.

“Jocelyne.” Lappin got up and handed my a large band shirt that.

I put it on and fixed it so itd hang down to my knees. Taking my bra off under the shirt. “What?” I pouted at him as i tied my hair up into a messy bun.

Lappin walked over and held my chin. “I want you to be safe, to stay safe.” he moved a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “And if that means not having a relationship, im sorry, but you must do whats best.”

“I know, and i will make the right choices, i promise.” I hugged him. “You’re apart of the family now, you’re a brother to me and im not screwing us up for a boy.”

“Good, you’re a smart girl.” he hugged me back. “I have faith you’ll make the right choices. Now, get in bed Kit, you need sleep.”

“Yeah yeah.” I let him go and crawled into bed. “You sleeping here or the cage?” I asked.

“Hmm.” Lappin turned to face the cage he’d have to sit in if someone came into my room. He turned back to my bed and got in under the covers with me and changed into his cute little black bunny form. “I dont despise the cage, i understand why i must be in it. But having the free room is nice.” he snuggled up into me.

“You know i only put you in the cage when someone comes in and i dont want you getting hurt.” I rubbed his little head.

“Like the first time when you trapped me in a cardboard box?” he wiggled his nose at me and started chuckling.

“You were a homeless, scared little bunny when i brought you home. Then you turned into a naked man who booped me in the nose then turned into a bunny again. Yeah, of course i’d trap you, it was scary.”

“Totally normal.” He mumbled.

“Totally scary, i rest my point.” I rubbed his back. Grabbing my phone i flipped onto my stomach and clicked on Gabe’s name.

“What are you doing?” Lappin snuggled up to me.

“Texting Gabe.” i replied flatly.

“What are you saying?” he puffed into his human form beside me. Dressed in a loose crop top and his usual style of puffy pants.

“Im asking him to come to my concert soon.” I booped his nose.  

Hey i was wondering if you’d come to the concert on saturday that we’re performing at. Is what i sent the put my phone down.

“You look nervous.” Lappin played with my hair. “Why?”

“Ive never asked someone to come to a show other than my family.” i put my face in the pillow. “What if he doesnt like the songs we cover?”

“I’m sure he will.”  he twirled m hair on his fingers. “If he doesnt dump him.” he said calmly.

“Real  easy for you to say.” I laughed lightly. My phone buzzing under my hand.

“Yeah i think i can make that, what time?”  Gabe responded back.

Smiling and giggling to myself, i typed with both thumbs on my screen. Ill be there at 6 show starts at 7 you’re welcome to come at 6 and visit with us. We’ll just be setting up and what not until 7. “Am i too eager?” I looked over at Lappin after i hit send.

“Yes.” He chuckled and let go of my hair. “But its cute.”

“Thaaaaaanks.” I hit his arm lightly.

My phone buzzing. “Yeah i can come and watch! Where is it.”

“Its at a bar that lets us perform. Ill send you the directions in the morning, i actually need to go to bed.”  I texted him and looked at Lappin who had a cocky smirk on his face. “Shut up.” I smacked Lappin again.

“I didnt say anything.” he laughed softly and whispered, puff of blue smoke and he was back into his bunny form. “Im innocent and adorable dont hurt me.”

“Yeah sure you are.” I ruffled his fur up on his back

Phone buzzing once again. “Okay sounds good. Good night and sleep good.”

“He’s sweet.” Lappin was now under my arm looking at my phone.

“He is.” I played with Lappin’s ear before texting back. “You sleep good too, ttyl~” tossing my phone onto the nightstand by my bed and hooking it up to my charger. “Okay bed time!” I flipped onto my side and grabbed Lappin and dragging him closer to me and hugged him gently to my chest. “Good night Joce.” He mumbled as he pressed up into me.

“Oyasumi.”  i kissed his head and closed my eyes. Burying my face into his soft fur and bringing the blankets over my head to cover both of us.

#Jocelyne #Gabe #OCstory

[oracles]

All of the emojis for the sweet and pure asks

DSJFHFDJKHKFJFFF honestly you’re probably like the only person who cares about what i say on here … thank u .. my savior 💖

(obviously imma put this under a cut .. if it doesn’t work on mobile, i apologize in advance aadhjfdkff since when things are under a cut i tend to write long ass rambling answers)

🐰- do you believe in soul mates?

as an utterly hopeless romantic, i certainly want to. i think because of like … insecurities, self hate and stuff (not to get too deep), it’s a comforting idea to me to like Know that there’s someone out there who doesn’t see me the way i do … but realistically? no. i think you gotta realize that relationships are hard and something you have to work to keep healthy and happy and not as magically problem-solving as soulmate tropes make it out to be. so short answer: realistically no, ideally yes. 

💌- diary or journal?

the one i write in is honestly a mix of both, but i think it’s more of a diary. it’s cathartic to write things out when you don’t wanna talk to someone else about it (or in addition to venting to another person) and for the journal aspect of it, i really like looking back on things i did back in the day. i’ve had a diary/journal hybrid since like 2008-ish? so i love that !

✨- which fictional character (book, show, or movie) do you relate to most?

ooh good question …. there’s a lot! i think i see bits of myself in a lot of characters so there isn’t any One (1) person i relate to the most. shaw from person of interest keeps coming to mind but maybe i’ve just absorbed parts of her, rather than actually being like her so who knows . jessica jones is another one, in some aspects. i think just from those two you can tell the Type of character i not only gravitate towards, but relate to too

💕- are you crushing on someone?

irl? no, i’m not. i have plenty of celebrity crushes though so i can’t even begin to start listing those. honestly most of the celebs i talk about / reblog on here are most likely a crush . to paraphrase an iconic pisces, yeah i’m a love whore and what about it ??? dfjkdhkjff

💋- kissing in the dark or kissing in the rain?

both !!!!! but kissing in the dark may be more ideal so i can hide how flustered i probably would be

🐝- describe your aesthetic in emojis

💌💣🌙🥀🖤  less of an aesthetic and more so just emojis i like, i feel like

🍼- what is your favorite memory?

oof … this is a really hard question. honestly, i don’t know. there’s a lot of memorable things. i feel like it’s mainly just the lil things – moments that i look back on that don’t seem like much but are really warm and comforting to reminiscence about (sorry, this isn’t really an answer)

🌸- what is your favorite flower?

a more recent fav but i’ve been really interested in diphylleia grayi / skeleton flowers lately. part of me doesn’t even know if they’re like real, but i’ve written a lot about them lately (and ofc listened to the jonghyun song about it) so i’ve had a sort of attachment to them lately. aside from that, i don’t really have a favorite? i think they’re all pretty

💖- have you ever been in love?

a lot dkjfhkjff probably more of a crush / infatuation than anything else in actuality, i suppose, though. platonically in love, however? absolutely

🍰- strawberry or vanilla?

vanilla, hands down

🍯- describe your favorite smell

ironically, vanilla is a big favorite smell of mine. i think i have a pretty sensitive sense of smell so there’s a lot of different things. i also like tea / coffee smells? idk, just stuff like that. which is part of why i enjoy baking, i think

🎂- if you had 3 wishes, what would they be?

1) for more wishes … bc im a gremlin

beyond that, i never know what to say for these questions beyond things i obviously want like world peace, ending world hunger, etc etc. like for personal things maybe … like being happy with myself? bc i think my self-image issues hinder me a LOT.

🍪- cookie dough or cookies?

both!!!! i eat the left over cookie dough when i bake but the final product is always really good too. (cookies, if i had to pick one though)

☕- coffee or tea?

tea !!!! don’t really feel like the coffee type of person (aside from enjoying the smell of it)

🍃- would you rather live in a sea with mermaids or a forest with fairies?

a forest with fairies, that sounds absolutely lovely

🍂- what’s your middle name?

it’s my dad’s first name

💫- what is your sun, moon, and rising sign?

gemini sun, pisces moon and leo rising

🌧️- favorite thing to do on rainy days?

stay inside in bed with chai. basically just having a lazy day – reading, watching something, etc etc

🍭- how tall are you?

5′7″, though a part of me likes to hypothesize that if my posture wasn’t absolute SHIT my actual height would be 5′8″ (wishful thinking probably, but my posture is bad though)

💒- which show would you want to live in?

the good place was the first one to come to mind but idk about that … they go through a lot of shit and i for sure would just be in the bad place, without a chance of redemption. to appeal my Babey side ……… can i say winnie the pooh or smth (also, im just blanking out on any decent tv show where the universe isn’t one where i will probably instantly DIE in bc of how inept i am)

🎄- what is your favorite holiday?

i often say christmas for this one actually. not because we really celebrate it or anything, i just like the atmosphere around this time of year usually. mostly bc of childhood memories and how fun it was for me then

🍦- what scented candle is your favorite?

i don’t use any, but probably something vanilla-y so im sure there’s holiday candles that fit my taste

🎶- favorite song right now?

not necessarily a favorite (bc i have a LOT), but im listening to pirate king by ateez right now (thanks winnie)

💘- 3 ways to win your heart?

idk !!!!!!! have a good/similar sense of humor to me, listen to what i have to say (and like ….. don’t make me feel like shit or annoying for bringing up my interests or showing you things i think you’ll like), and uhhhhhh maybe like do cute lil romantic things for me ??? im a sucker for that. esp when people remember lil details about me based off what i’ve just casually said, idk .. it’s bare minimum time i guess. i just can’t fathom anyone Wanting to win my heart in the first place so it’s really easy bc im touch and romance starved

🍩- current mood?

okay ? just kinda here – not really happy but not sad either. neutral. procrastinating

❄️- what is your favorite season?

spring because of my birthday and the weather is decent, i guess. though i’ll also nominate winter

💍- your current relationship status?

what you think? .. DJKHFKF SINGLE of course . when have i ever been anything else

📷- a photo of yourself

absolutely not. though i have posted some before (you can click my name in my description to see this ugly minion mug of mine)

💅🏻- do you like being spoiled?

it’s weird because as a concept, yes i absolutely do but in reality, i will feel guilty and bad if anyone spends money on me at all because i don’t think i’m worth that so in practice, i guess i have to abandon my sugar baby dreams

🕊️- 3 habits you have?

1) keysmashing ? dhfkjffjkf like it’s genuinely so instinctual to me that i have to stop and make myself stop before i type it to locals i know or in emails to my teachers. in a similar realm, is my lowercase aesthetic . if only i could type my essays like this

2) saying and typing ‘like’ a lot. i guess i really AM the valley girl that envi says i sound like ………. tis a sad day. i never really noticed how much i do it till i reread old messages

3) not sitting properly. at school i do it obviously, but at home i most often sit cross legged on chairs or with one leg up or something. gay culture, babey ! the amount of times i’ve been told off for sitting “improperly” or “like a man” .. amazing

and bonus 4) being a dumbass. i just felt the urge to say that. don’t expect me to think or say anything intelligent ever. especially if we’re talking irl because my brain will exit immediately and i won’t be able to put a single coherent sentence together. i sound better online than offline, trust me.

🦄- how do you perceive yourself?

i don’t wanna turn this into oversharing emo o’clock but i’ll summarize it in one word … BAD. gremlin and scum are also fitting words. perhaps i have made points sometimes but that’s just after i go to rent-a-brain-cell ‘ r us . otherwise? complete fool . a clown, if you will . don’t get me started on my looks

🦋- how do you think others perceive you?

this is what i REALLY want to know. i have an irrationally strong desire to just know what people think of me. it’s what gives me a self-identity and a better sense of who i am bc idk !!!!!! is my quietness making me look mean ??? who knows ! just how ugly am i actually ???? someone tell me

🌈- things I find attractive in girls/guys

there’s a lot of things and i’m also feeling lazy to list things. but pretty smiles have always been a huge weakness of mine. and perhaps i have an arm kink ….. like not super muscley arms (i.e: body builder types) but kinda toned/defined ones? NUT . (not a necessity ofc, just a bonus)

🍓- one secret about yourself

well it’s not a secret online, but my sexuality i guess? offline, aside from kendra, no one else knows. beyond that, i wish i had something scandalous i could reveal but im genuinely a boring person

🍒- how do you act when you have a crush?

inside im a mess. usually i just like looking at them and going into my Daydream World (patent pending) to fulfill my romantic desires there. outwardly, i don’t do like anything. idk how obvious i am honestly. i don’t interact with them at all, aside from sneaking glances, bc i am scum !!! and also i lack any confidence whatsoever 

💔- the reason behind your last breakup?

never had one, so this is non-applicable :/

💬- what your last text message says?

to summarize, it was just me in the gc talking about a song i listened to a lot that i saw in my spotify top 100 list thing and about how i recently realized the singer/rapper was malaysian

🎥- what show are you currently binging on?

currently, im not really marathoning anything exactly ? i guess the closest would be blackish, but i haven’t watched that in a hot minute. i’m trying to catch up on it though. 

⛅- what is your morning routine?

usually it’s just get up, brush teeth / wash face, and then change into my clothes for the day and then have breakfast 

💗- who do you miss?

who i used to be ……. :( IM KIDDING . ummm idk, no one really? i guess i miss the people i don’t talk to as much anymore, though it’s really my own fault most of the time since im a horrible communicator 

🥀- last time you cried?

oof i don’t really remember …… like i get emo a lot but i don’t exactly full on cry a lot? one semi-recent time i remember crying was when envi sent us this one song in the gc and it was just really pure and romantic and i got in my feelings about it. funny how my crying works ……. i don’t cry a lot but it can be brought on by the weirdest, most random things

🎁- when is your birthday?

may 29th !!!!!

🔪- scariest/creepiest experience?

not really either (since im not scared of ghosts, though i do kinda believe in them. like i don’t NOT believe in them, but im also not gonna fight someone who doesn’t, y’know?) but long story short – i got smacked in the back of the head (like it felt like a hard slap) once and no one was there/did it. must’ve been the ghost in our apartment. i joke a lot about there being one in our place but i wouldn’t be surprised if there was, with the random stuff that happens sometimes (mostly things just falling). again im no huge believer in ghosts, it’s just whatever to me but getting hit in the back of the head like that was definitely WEIRD. bc it honestly felt like how my little brother hits me but it wasn’t him so …….. hm.

💤- date someone younger, older, or same age as you?

same age or older (not by a lot), probably. being with someone younger makes me feel weird (weirdly, usually with men. like i’ll be more comfortable dating a girl a year younger than me than a guy for example.. for maturity reasons i GUESS). but it depends. if i like someone within a reasonable age range, then i like them. 

🎀- any question you want

you didn’t ask one so n/a (and neither did i in the ask i sent you so rip)

#thank you again !!! :') #userkendra #answered #ask games #about me #long post //

[as-be-low]

Time Has Changed Me, Chapter 3

Oh, But It Gets You Right Down to Your Soul

I got a feeling I just can't shake I got a feeling that just won't go away You've got it, just keep on pushing and push the sky away Push the Sky Away—Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Stanford awoke the following day with a feeling of unease he couldn’t shake. He had a niece. A small niece who couldn’t be over the age of two. Possibly. He was never sure with respect to these things. He’d initially hoped that he’d be able to work through his issues with Stanley and get them out of the way, and waste no time in doing so, but how exactly was he supposed to do that? Especially now that Stanley had a toddler in tow? Surely she’d take up a large amount of his attention. He vaguely remembered having to babysit his brother Shermie’s young son once and what a nightmare that had been. There’d been tears from both parties involved and he was never asked again. He shuddered. Small children were terrifying at times. Stan would probably laugh at him if he said as much. He’d always had a way with children.

He needed to talk to Stan. Ford glanced at the clock. 8:45 am. That wasn’t too early for most people, was it? He couldn’t remember. What was the rule Fiddleford had given him, no calls before or after nine? Or was it ten? He’d wait until ten to be safe. But what would he do until then? He’d made his decision, so pacing was unnecessary. He had a solution to his most immediate question already.

“Aha!” His eyes brightened. Breakfast! He could make breakfast for them all while he waited. Surely that would make this situation flow more smoothly. His feet led him into the kitchen, where he paused. Did he have the supplies for breakfast? He doubted he’d let things get that bad. Maybe. Stanford opened the refrigerator and was pleased with himself when he found a half-carton of eggs. Less pleased was…whatever it was that had taken up residence behind the ham slices. He made a mental note to inspect the fridge’s thriving fauna at a later date. Maybe I should clean it as well. He grimaced.

In the pantry he found a stale but thankfully mold-free loaf of bread waiting for him and he cheerfully stuck a few slices into the toaster. Eggs, toast, ham… Omelettes? Omelettes and toast should suffice. He vaguely wondered if he still had cheese as he reached into the back of a cabinet for a skillet, jumping back as various pots and pans tumbled out. It’s fine. I’m sure no one heard that but me. After rearranging the fallen pots, he turned his attention to cracking the eggs, taking great care not to leave excess eggshell in the bowl. He remembered how much Stanley would complain about them whenever it had been Ford’s turn to help Ma with breakfast, though Ford himself didn’t see what the fuss was about. Extra calcium was extra calcium, he thought with a fond smile.

He could do this. Sure, he was out of practice—both with cooking for others and talking with them—but he could. Stan wouldn’t have come if he hadn’t wanted to talk to him at all… Though maybe he would have? How well could he say he knew his brother at this point? It felt like a cotton ball had settled on the back of Ford’s tongue and he tried to swallow it away. He turned his attention back to the eggs. Heat skillet. Whisk eggs. Place eggs in hot skillet.

You’ve been apart longer than you were ever together. Stir eggs vigorously, making sure to scrape the metal of the skillet with that of the spoon.

There’s no way you could know him anymore. Scrape harder.

You haven’t known him since you were a child, and now he’s got one of his own. Scratch.

This was a stupid idea. You’re certainly full of stupid ideas, aren’t you?

“Uh, Ford? What the hell?” Stanford visibly jolted, turning towards the intrusion. His brother stood in the doorway, eyeing him warily. Right. This hadn’t been a good idea

“I, uh. Breakfast?” he offered lamely, holding the skillet high. His brother’s eyes narrowed.

“Yeah… I hope you’ll pardon the pun, ‘n all, but uh. Those eggs are toast.”

“What?” Ford looked down to the skillet in his hands, and for the first time noticed the smoke gently curling upwards from the charred flecks of eggs he’d scraped back and forth. “Fuck!” he rushed over to the sink.

“Still suck at making eggs?” Stanley murmured after a few moments of silence. Ford sighed.

“Guess so.” Another beat of silence.

“Guess some things never change, huh?”

Ford ran a hand through his hair, pulling it away in distaste once he realized it was wet. “Look, Stanley…” Ford trailed off as he took in his brother’s tense posture. He seemed to hunch forward and rear back simultaneously, with Ford’s loaned t-shirt hanging from his body in a way Ford had never expected to see. Where had his brawn gone? He backpedaled.

“I was wondering if you and…” Shit, did he just forget his niece’s name? His eyes glazed over. “I was wondering if you and Stella slept well.”

Stanley shrugged. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, thanks… Thanks for askin’.” He shifted from foot to foot, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort. “I, uh, so, d’you… need any help, or anything?”

“Oh! No, thank you, Stanley! Everything is under control, I can assure you!” Stanley didn’t look so assured.

Maybe he was right for that, since immediately after, the forgotten toast popped up, completely charred. Both twins winced.

“I can fix it,” Ford mumbled, lifting the toasts with his fingers only to fling the hot bread across the countertop.

“H-haah! Hot! Okay, no, I can’t fix that.” He flapped his hand in the air, and popped in a second batch. Stupid toaster. Why did it even have an incinerate function? What purpose did that serve? Who in their right mind would eat that—Ford’s internal diatribe was cut short by his brother darting from the room and up the stairs.

Oh, shit. Stanford followed behind his brother, skidding to a halt in the guest room doorway just as his brother scooped up his little girl.

“It’s alright, sweetie, I’ve got ya. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He murmured repeatedly, cradling the child close to his chest. Ford faintly heard sniffles as he watched his brother rock to and fro, his hand rubbing circles over the child’s back. “You’re okay, sweetie, you’re okay. Daddy’s here.”

“Where’d you go?” the tiny voice wailed. “I-I woke up ‘n-n-n you wasn’t here!” Stanley hiked her up to pepper her wet cheeks with kisses.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I went downstairs t’… check on my brother.” He let the sentence trail off into a mumble.

Ford watched as a tiny fist pushed against his brother’s chest. The child frowned up at Stanley. “You don’t got a brother.” She whined.

“Sure I do. Got two of ‘em.”

“N-no, you’re s’posed to have a sister. S’posed to be a pair.” To Ford’s rising confusion, Stan only responded with an “oh, my bad” and a kiss to her forehead.

“Stanley—” Ford’s whisper was cut short by Stanley’s quick shake of the head.

“Sweetheart, you wanna meet your uncle? Hm? Wanna meet my, uh… My brother?” Ford’s heart would’ve plummeted at the difficulty with which Stan seemed to claim him were it not for the promise of meeting his tiny niece. He stood stock still as the small, fluffy head turned towards him, following the trajectory of Stan’s chin jerk. He watched silently as her eyes widened, then darted to her father, then back to him before watering again. Stanley slowly inched his way closer. The child hiccupped and Stan quickly began to pat her back.

“Aw, kiddo,” Stanley sighed.

“H-how come you-you…”

“Daddy’s a twin, so me ‘n him both look the same.” Stella frowned up at him through her tears with a look that clearly said don’t patronize me. That look had their ma written all over it, Ford thought. He would’ve snorted had he not been worried that she’d turn that look on him next. The child turned less into Ma as she sobbed against Stanley’s chest. “Oh, hey, sweetheart… Are you scared ‘cause there’s two of us? We didn’t mean to scare you…” He took a few bouncing steps with her, and Ford followed behind him at a loss.

“Is…Is everything alright?” Stanley shrugged, ignoring the question in favor of mumbling to the child on his shoulder. Ford’s eyes widened as she lifted her head up—pausing briefly to wipe her nose on Stanley’s shoulder—and turned her watery frown on him. She quieted, save for the occasional hiccup and sniffle. Ford shifted from foot to foot under the scrutiny. Stanley took a few backwards steps closer.

“Can you say hello?”

“I, ah, hello there—”

“I was talking to her, Ford.”

“Oh. Right, Apologies.” That awkward little exchange earned him a giggle and a watery smile. He supposed it was worth it.

Stanley nudged the baby. “Go on, pumpkin.”

“Hi.” She mumbled, punctuating it with a sniff. Ford’s tension eased slightly.

“H-hello, dear.”

“This is your uncle Stanford, can you tell ‘im your name?” Ford thought he saw a flicker of panic—or was it confusion? —cross her face. Such similar names and faces would likely do that to a child, he supposed.

“ ‘M Stella.” He jerked back into the present.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Stella.” As Ford wavered back and forth between offering her a hand to shake, Stanley took the decision from him by holding the young child out towards his hesitantly raised arm. With a start, Ford gripped her underneath the armpits and gaped, his eyes darting from his brother, to the child, and back. Stella’s scowl returned and she began to squirm in his outstretched grip, her little legs wiggling. Oh, shit. She doesn’t like me. He panicked. Was…was that suspicion in her eyes? What did she know? He took a deep breath. He was just overreacting. Bill wasn’t here. Couldn’t be here. He’d made sure of that. This was just a baby. A regular baby that happened to be judging him. She must’ve seen his hands. He wouldn’t want to be held by his hands, either. He moved to set her down, pausing when he heard a loud whine.

“Easy there.” Stanley coaxed, arms outstretched. “She’s afraid you’ll drop her.

“I wouldn’t—”

“Yeah, but it probably feels like you’re about to.”

“I—She wanted to get down.”

“She’ll tell ya if she wants down. She just doesn’t like the way you’re holding her.” Ford looked at her, getting a scowl and a nod of agreement. Oh. Well, then. He slowly, carefully pulled her in closer as he’d watched Stanley do earlier, and was silently awed to find that she settled herself in.

“Is…Is that better?”

“Yeah.” He noticed Stanley’s own stiff posture relax with an internal grimace. He did that. Was he really that disconnected from people? Children are a wild card, though. He mused. He stared down at the tiny figure and a slow smile broke across his face. A stray curl flipped up and tickled his chin. There must’ve been another tendril sticking up in his face. There was no other reason for the stinging in his eyes. He swallowed thickly. Tiny fists dug into his shirt and he began to hope that she wouldn’t wipe her nose with a rising sense of alarm.

Also rising was the smoke alarm. Ford had forgotten—he wasn’t sure what he’d forgotten. “Fuck!”

“Hey, language!” Stan fussed, reaching for his giggling child. Ford was too busy balancing her on his hip while simultaneously bolting down the stairs to have noticed.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Stanley mumbled under his breath, running behind the other man. The twins slid into the kitchen, giggling toddler in tow. Ford heaved a sigh of relief. “It’s only the toaster. I thought I’d left the stove on.”

“The stove is on,” Stan pointed out, “it’s just…not on fire yet.” He took the liberty of turning it off. “There. Now,” he pulled Stella from Ford’s arms, then gestured to the smoking toaster.

“Oh. Right.” Ford mumbled, reluctantly reaching for the smoldering bread. He flung it towards the trashcan, ignoring the flush of heat rising to his ears. Well, that didn’t go as planned.

“Really, Ford, you don’t have to worry about—”

“How about Greasy’s?” Ford interrupted, noticing the blank look on his brother’s face. “I mean, well, Greasy’s is the local diner. They’d…likely do a better job than I can.” He rambled on. Stan shifted his weight from foot to foot while Stella stared at the smoking trashcan with curiosity.

“Nah, Ford, don’t worry about it, really—”

“Great! I’ll go get my coat!”

Stanley blinked. “Ford—”

“I’ll just be a moment, truly—”

“STANFORD.” He froze. “If we have to go out, can I, I dunno, at least have a minute to bathe my kid?”

Ford took in Stanley’s annoyed expression, then compared it to Stella’s scruffy but happy demeanor. “Oh. Right. Right. Of…of course.” Stanley gave him a stiff nod before turning away.

“Can I have bubbles?” he heard Stanley snort.

“You’ll have to ask Ford. It’s his house.” Ford winced at that. Of course she could, why would he care?

“HEY, CAN I HAVE BUBBLES?” echoed back into the kitchen, mixed with an “oh, holy Moses!” from Stanley for good measure.

“…Yes?” Ford called out.

“I can have bubbles!”

“That you can. Alright, little miss, let’s get you cleaned up.”

≈

Roughly an hour later, Stanley Pines found himself tossing various items into the trunk of his car while Stanford, nosy man that he was, tried to ‘help.’ Thankfully his daughter, darling child that she was, had decided to keep the other man occupied by darting off in the direction of the forest after something she saw. The sight of the man bounding off after the little girl would have been priceless if it hadn’t been for the look of pure terror that gripped him. Maybe that had added to it, actually. He was lucky enough to be able to say that his little girl had a good head on her shoulders, toddler or not. She sure didn’t get that from him.

He took his freshly scrubbed baby from the frazzled man and strapped her into the backseat, then leaned against the roof of the car. And waited. “…You are getting in, right?”

“Ah! Yes, yes, absolutely!” The man hustled himself into the passenger seat and Stanley took his distraction as an opportunity to conceal a sigh. He slipped behind the wheel once more and glanced up into the rearview mirror, earning himself a toothy grin. That was right. He could do this. This wasn’t a big deal.

Stanley’s first clue that he’d lied to himself came when Ford, distracted by whatever was going on in that big brain of his, managed to forget that he was supposed to be giving directions.

“Oh, we should’ve turned there.” What? “That’s fine, we can just turn around.”

“Pretty sure U-turns are illegal here.” Either way, he’d play it safe. In multiple ways, Stanley couldn’t afford to get a ticket.

It took ages to find a decent enough shoulder to turn around on. Stan eyed the fuel gauge warily. This trip was already over his ‘budget,’ he didn’t need to add another tank of fuel to the proverbial fire.

“Is it a left turn here? I suppose it also could have been on the right…” Stan jerked his head back to thump against the headrest.

“Y’know what? Don’t worry, I’ll find it for us.” Ford just hummed in absentminded approval. Fuckin’ figures. Stanley closed his eyes for a second and let out a deep sigh. He could find every other little Podunk diner, what was one more?

When the trio finally arrived about half an hour later (and what Stanley was sure should’ve been a 10-minute trip, tops), Stella was asleep again and Ford was muttering something under his breath that Stanley chose to ignore. He ran his hand over his face a few times before unbuckling himself loudly, startling the man beside him. Good. He slipped out of the car and slammed the door behind him. He was getting too old for this. His expression softened as he leaned into the backseat.

“Alright, princess, time to wake up.”

“No.”

He chuckled. “Stubborn.” She got that from him, for sure. Stan scooped his princess into his arms and eyed his dazed counterpart. “Sooo, are we going in, or what?”

“Ah. Right. Yes, of course.” He nodded, his posture stiffening. Really? Stanley still remembered that pose. Ford was nervous about something and doing his best to hide it. Very nervous, judging by the fake smile.

“C’mon, it’s just a buncha small-town hicks, just like everywhere else. It’s not like there’s any reason to be all weirded out by ‘em.”

Stanley’s initial assessment proved untrue. These folks were weird. Nice and harmless, yes, but they were also just plain strange. The guy in the booth behind them was talking into a turkey baster, for fuck’s sake.

“Mornin’, stranger!” the small man had popped into Stanley’s personal space before he had time to sidestep him.

“Oh, holy Moses!”

“No! Shoo!” Stanley’s panicked jolt had woken Stella, and she was not happy about it. “Bad! Bad!” she fussed, waving a tiny clenched fist in reproach. Stan felt oddly proud as the man deflated.

Then came the waitress. “Toby! What’d I tell you about scaring people off? Well, if it isn’t Mr. mysterious science man! Is this your brother? Are you twins? Oh, which one of you is the evil one? Ha!” Ford cringed.

“Yeah, don’t expect me to answer that one.” Stanley mumbled.

“Ha! I like this one. He’s funny!”

The trio sat quietly in their booth, with Stella burrowing into Stan’s side while he tried to ignore Ford’s stiff, awkward body language in favor of glaring at the back of Turkey Baster’s head.

“Sorry about Toby, he gets excited sometimes. The poor thing’s got his mind made up that he’s gonna be the next big reporter.” The waitress shrugged and, spotting Stella, leaned forward with a big grin. “Well, hello there, sweetie!” Stella stared back blankly.

“Uh. She just woke up.” Stan offered.

“Aww, still sleepy? Don’t worry, I’ve got jut the thing for that!” the waitress—her name was Susan, if Stan had read the name tag correctly—bounced off and returned a few moments later with a glass of orange juice and a giant milkshake topped liberally with whipped cream and sprinkles. Stan’s heart rose to his throat. He didn’t order this. He couldn’t afford this.

“Uh, ma’am?”

The waitress giggled, waving a playful hand at him. “Oh, just call me Susan!”

“Uh, well, Susan,” Stan grinned for added measure, “there must’ve been some kinda mix-up. See, we didn’t order any of this, or at all, actually—”

“Oh, don’t worry about it!”

Stan blinked. “S’cuse me?”

“These’re for little miss cutie here, acting all shy ‘n sleepy!”

Stanley gently nudged the child into an upright position while she rubbed her eyes. “Seriously?” his voice was wary. “Is there some kinda catch, or somethin’?” There always was.

“Aw, shucks, no! This is a sleepy little town, we don’t get that many visitors here, to be honest, ‘specially not any cuties like this little one!”

Stan gaped, then turned to look down at Stella. If this lady was nuts enough to give away free food, who was he to complain? “What do we say to the nice lady, pumpkin?”

Stella’s eyes peeled away from the glasses placed in front of her and she yawned before fixing Susan with a wide grin. “Thank youuu!”

Susan giggled. Yep, Stan had taught his daughter well. He glanced across the table at Stanford, who had resumed frowning past a spot on the glittery Formica tabletop. Stan looked up in confusion as Susan began to leave.

“Oh, wait, could we uh… We didn’t order yet.”

“Don’t worry, I already placed your orders.” What?

She inclined her head towards Ford. “Mr. mysterious science man always orders the same thing when he comes, but he hasn’t been by in such a long time, we almost thought he’d moved, hah! Anyways, you look like a bacon and scrambled eggs kind of guy, with extra hash browns on the side. Wink!” Stan froze. That was what he would’ve ordered, if he’d had the money for it. As it was, he didn’t. This would cost a lot more than a small order of fries. His stomach sank.

“What’re you, some kinda psychic?” This was starting to get freaky.

Susan laughed. “Wouldn’t that be something? I’m not psychic, I just like to think that I’m good at what I do!”

“Yeah, you must be.”

“Oh, you!”

That was a good way to hike up someone’s bill. He’d have to remember that one. As soon as Susan moved off to check on the handful of occupied tables—it was still early—Stanley kicked Stanford’s food under the table. The man barely held back a startled squawk.

“You, uh, you okay there? Kinda…kinda quiet. ‘Specially since this was your idea, ‘n all.”

“I-yes, yes, I’m perfectly fine. I just…” he trailed off briefly, worrying his lip before continuing. “I must admit, I hadn’t expected the establishment to be this densely populated.” Stan glanced around. Seriously?

“Well, they’re all here to stuff their faces, they’re probably not too worried about us stuffin’ ours.”

Ford gave him a wan smile. “I’m afraid I’m disinclined to agree.”

Stan closed his eyes and sighed, letting his head drop back against the booth. If Ford could just lay off it with the ten-dollar words for just five minutes. Yeesh. “What, so everybody here is just dying to see you out and about, huh?” Ford hunkered down further in his seat, eyes darting around the room. Okay. So Stanford was still shy and paranoid as fuck. Good to know. His attention turned downwards when a sticky hand touched his arm. Stella held up a dripping spoon. “Are you sharing your milkshake with me? Thanks, sweetie.” He let the child guide the spoon to his mouth, tactfully ignoring the smear of chocolate she left on his cheek. He’d wipe it away when she wasn’t looking. He took a surreptitious glance at Stanford, whose startled eyes were busy tracking the waitress as she headed towards them with a fully loaded tray.

“Here you are!” she chirped. “One coffee omelette, extra coffee; bacon, eggs, and hash browns; and for the little lady,” she drawled, “pancakes!” Stella’s eyes widened as a small stack of pancakes with a whipped cream smile dropped in front of her.

“’S got a face!” she grabbed her father’s sleeve and tugged. Holy fuck, he could not afford this. He felt a lump forming in his throat.

“Thank you. Really.” He grumbled out. When was the last time anyone had shown his daughter this much kindness? Or him, for that matter?

“It’s no problem, really. I gotta admit, I’ve always had a soft spot for kids. Cats too, actually. Cats ‘n kids, hah! Or maybe kids ‘n cats? Maybe the cats are the kids…”

“Uh, right.” This was getting strange.

“So! What brings you to Gravity Falls? Here to help out with the next big mysterious experiment?” she wiggled her fingers for effect, tucking her tray under one arm. Stan noticed the man—Toby, was it?—leaning over the edge of the booth. He turned to Ford, holding back a frown as the man visibly recoiled. This wasn’t gonna work. He’d have to turn up the schmooze. He was too tired for the schmooze.

He didn’t have a choice though, did he? They weren’t gonna get anything useful out of Ford but some suspicious facial expressions and he had to keep up the positive rapport that was forming. These people were nice. They were nice to him, of all people. He had to keep that going for as long as he could. Stanley put on the biggest grin he could and leaned forward.

“Nah, I came up here so Mr. Science here could meet this little cutie.” He placed a hand on Stella’s head and she looked up with a confused smile, her face smeared with whipped cream. “I dunno how much help I could be anyways, being the dumb twin ‘n all.” He ignored Stanford’s flinch at that. “Reckon I did pretty good on the mini me, though!” he gave Susan a wink and briefly—just briefly—thought about saying the word out loud himself, just as she did. He settled for turning to Ford. “What d’you think, Mr. Expert?”

≈

Ford jumped slightly as the attention turned towards him. He glanced from the waitress—what was her name, again?—to his niece, then up to his brother’s questioning smirk. “Ah… You did a wonderful job, I’m sure.” He adjusted his glasses, trying to hide his relief as his brother let out a barking laugh. Apparently that was the correct answer. What was Stanley up to? He felt his unease grow.

“So what is the next big experiment, Mr. man of mystery? You’ve lived out there in the woods for years, but still no one knows what you’re up to out there!”

Ford pretended not to notice the pointed look Stanley fixed him with.

“What? Ford, you never told anybody about all that biology research you’ve been doing?” What? What was Stanley talking about?

“I—”

“Yeah, when we were kids he always had his nose in a book, learnin’ about plants ‘n animals ‘n all that jazz.” He laughed. “Always wanted t’go off explorin’ and findin’ all the little critters he could. Makes sense to be out in the woods for that.”

The waitress’s eyes brightened. “Oh, so that’s what you do! Why didn’t you just say so?” Ford shifted under the scrutiny. “Find anything interesting out there?” His ears began to burn as his mouth opened and closed.

“Ah, well—”

“Unicorns!” Stella interrupted with a happy shriek. Stanford gasped. How did she know? His eyes darted around the diner. Oh, no. It wasn’t safe. Bill could be anywhere. Why had he suggested leaving the safety of the cabin? This was foolish, foolish—

“Unicorns, huh?” Stan chuckled, reaching over to grab a napkin and wipe the child’s face. She let out a noise of complaint. “Y’think he found some unicorns? What do you know about unicorns?”

“They’re pretty!” She looked to Stanford for reassurance. He swallowed.

“Yes, well, that they certainly are.”

“ ’N they taste like candy.”

“I’m not too sure about that one—ouch!” Stanley kicked him again.

“They can taste like cotton candy if they want to. Let her have it, she’s three!” he hissed. Ford glanced at his niece. Three? She was so small. He’d thought… He wasn’t sure what he’d thought, truthfully. Ford knew nothing about small children, other than that they could be judgmental and cruel. The waitress let out a full-bodied laugh.

“Well, if you catch a unicorn, you let me know so I can come taste it too, okay?”

Right. This was a small child. A regular, non-possessed, normal small child with a normal fascination with unicorns. Unicorns were well loved by children. They were still pure enough to meet their approval. Ford briefly wondered at what age he stopped meeting their criteria.

The waitress turned to Stanford and whispered the word “Wink!” conspiratorially. Was… Was she joking with him? No one had done so since Fiddleford in quite some time. He couldn’t remember how it felt. Should he like it?

His brother kicked him again and he jerked, fixing him with a glare. “Stanley, would you please—”

“Your niece is trying to offer you something.”

“What?” he turned to look at the child, who was staring at him intently while waving her fork in the air at him. He watched in dismay as a soggy bit of pancake dropped into his coffee.

“Well, I’ll leave you fellas to it. Wink!” she headed off to the counter with a grin. Finally.

“Uh, no thank you, dear.” Stanford mumbled to the child, offering her what he hoped was a placating smile.

She only frowned and waved the fork more insistently. “Yes.”

He was being strong-armed by a toddler. He couldn’t believe it. “I—”

“Aww, are you sharing?” Stanley asked the obvious as he tucked into his hash browns. He himself glanced down at his untouched omelette. Somehow, it was still hot. He looked back up to his brother, pleading. There was no way in hell he was eating mushy, child-picked-over pancakes. He wouldn’t.

Whatever spark of charisma that had brightened Stanley moments before was gone. No more grinning. No teasing. Sitting across from him was a man who just looked worn out. One hand propped up his jaw while he stared listlessly down. The man’s gaze turned upwards and caught Ford’s own, a hint of annoyance hiding behind his hooded eyes.

“You gonna take the pancakes or not?” Ford apparently waited too long to respond, as Stan merely sighted and pulled the small outstretched hand towards himself and stole the proffered bite. The child, instead of seeming mollified, fixed him with an appraising glare. Well, I fucked up, apparently. She stabbed more pancake with her fork and held it up to him again. Stanford let out a sigh and quickly took the fork, returning it empty. That… wasn’t as bad as anticipated. He mused as he chewed. The little girl gave him a smile of approval.

“She’s like a little old lady sometimes, I swear.” Stan mumbled, a small smile playing at his lips. “Gonna make sure you get some of everything.”

Stanford was relieved to find that the remainder of breakfast had gone on with minimal fanfare—Susan had come and gone briefly for little chats here and there, and with her went Stanley’s exuberance and that brash, happy-go-lucky attitude he’d missed remembered from their childhood. Only Ford was left with the empty shell treatment, it seemed. It was remarkably disconcerting. But then again, he had seemed reluctant to go out in public with him. And for good reason. He clinked his spoon along the inside of his coffee mug, lost in thought. The strange reporter from earlier returned to badger them but was quickly run off by Stella’s scolding. Little old lady, indeed. Stan’s shoulders squared and tensed as the little man scuttled off.

“Maybe we should leave? Before he comes back, I mean.” Ford offered. He was surprised to find that this made his brother tense further.

“…Yeah.”

Stanford absently reached for his wallet, a preoccupied frown in place. Oh. Oh. He’d spent the entire night ruminating about his brother’s likely homelessness, and conveniently forgot that it implied a certain lack of money. And what did Ford do? Drag him to a place where they’d have to spend money. He was an idiot. An oblivious idiot. He fumbled for a few bills, enough to cover their meals and a bit more, and flattened his palm across the table as he stood. “I think he’s coming this way.” He fibbed. Stanley muttered something under his breath and scooted out of the booth, child tucked under his arm. Ford watched as he carried her outside and placed her in the tired, worn-out car seat.

At… At least they have the necessities. That was clearly a lie. He kicked himself inwardly and folded his awkward limbs into the passenger seat. His brother soon followed.

“You think you can guide us back?” Ford blinked.

“Of course I can. Why wouldn’t I be able to?” He wasn’t sure why his brother snorted in response.

  Soon enough, Stanford found himself guiding his brother down his driveway. “You might want to pull up a little closer to the cabin.” He mumbled. Stanley eyed him strangely, but complied nonetheless. He’d talked to him—as much as one could, at least—but Ford still didn’t trust any car to Steve after the incident with his own. As soon as the car was in park, Stanford hopped out and headed to the backseat. Carefully, gingerly, he unbuckled his niece and plucked her from the car. He ignored the confused look passed between parent and child in favor of carting her to the front door. It wasn’t safe for any of them out here.

“Wanna get down!” He was a bit surprised as he looked down at the girl leaning as far away from him as she could, angling her body towards the tree line. Hell no.

“Oh, h—” he cut himself off. “…No.” He shook his head, raising an eyebrow as she contorted in his grip to look at him.

“Wanna get down please?”

“I’m afraid that’s not the best idea.”

“But I wanna.” She stared blankly.

“Yes, however—”

“But I said please.” And? How was that supposed to change anything?

“Are you planning on heading towards the forest?”

“Yeah.” Straightforward. He commended her for her honesty.

“The forest is dangerous, you might get hurt.”

“But I saw somethin’.”

He tensed. “What did you see?” Stella let out a big huff.

“I dunno, you won’t lemme go see. It was shiny.”

Stanford was conflicted. Could it possibly have been pixiecorn? He’d been trying to study the elusive little bastards for weeks now, but he hadn’t been able to get close enough to them before they would flit off. Maybe they were drawn to children? They were certainly pure of heart… He turned to look at Stanley, who leaned against his car with his arms folded. He cocked an eyebrow.

“It was shiny, Ford.” He drawled.

“I, well… I suppose… Maybe we could inspect it, if your father allows. But I’ll carry you over there, all right? No running off.”

To his surprise, Stan gave him a brief nod. His shock must’ve shown on his face, because Stanley immediately rolled his eyes. “For f—you’re literally going about ten yards away. Where I can see you. Now, go, before—”

“Pinky promise?”

“—she makes you pinky promise.” Stan finished.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, dear. I mean—”

“Pinky. Promise.” She scowled and shoved a tiny little finger in his face, nearly poking him in the nose. Stanford’s eyes crossed as he squinted down at the small hand.

“Holy shit.” He counted six little fingers.

“That’s a bad word!”

He turned to his brother, who was sheepishly avoiding his gaze. “Was kinda wonderin’ how long it’d take you to notice. Now ya can stop bein’ so shy ‘n funny about your hands.”

Seriously? Was this some sort of a game to him? His brother deserved a punch in the face for that. His hands had been a source of ridicule for him their entire lives and now his little niece would have to face the same problems he had growing up, and Stanley had the gall to turn it into some sort of a practical joke? He needed to sit down. Stanford slowly lowered himself onto the front steps, setting the child in his lap. Stella wiggled in his tight grip.

“I like hugs, but you said we can goooo!”

Stan sighed. “Give ‘im a minute, sweetie, he’s havin’ a moment.”

“…Is he sad?”

“You’ll have to ask him, pumpkin, not me.”

“Hey, why’re you crying?” He was startled by the tiny hands patting his face.

“…I don’t know.”

“So can we go look at the sparkly now?”

Ford was silent for a moment.

“Yes. Yes, we can go look.”

Hopefully the fact that this chapter is a lot longer than I expected makes up for the fact that it took a lot longer and I simultaneously like and dislike it.

#Gravity Falls #reverse portal au #angst #stanley pines #stanford pines #fanfiction #single dad stanley pines #THCM

[c-rankin93]

Welcome to Stamford Pt 4

Okay so how long has it been of sever writers block, crossed with an earthquake and to many hours at work? Weeks, months? I don’t know but all I know is im back, and this ladies and dudettes is what I call- ‘you know when you have written like 3 chapters and you think they are all shit so you re-write them and you spew corny shit all over the pages’! But I needed to give you guys something, you were begging me and I felt bad. So please don’t kill me for this.

Now the way I see Finn in this, is different. He’s more loveable, cheerful and what I think FUNNY??

Just think of the way Nico acts in real life. I always see moody Finn and grumpy Finn… what about happy Finn. But hey if you don’t like it, then pass this on as a flake.

Now my writing is meh? I haven’t written in so long and this was a spur of the moment thing where I had to write this down before it disappeared.

Enough with my rambles, READ. READ. READ. And P.s I might be on Wattpad now? So im not just writing fan fic anymore!

I LOVE YOU ALL MY PATIENT FOLLOWERS! MWAH!!!

&&&&& NOT EDITED 

PART 3 GUYS! HAVE A RE-CAP 

 FINN POV

 Sweat baby Jesus.

I could see the blush invade her ivory skin, her plump cheeks turning a glorious shade of crimson red. Her eyes avoiding mine as I tried in vain to see those deep chocolate irises of hers.

Stubborn girl

I knew she was embarrassed. The all mighty Rae with a mouth as lethal as a gun was stunned in silence.

I could hear Archie briefly chuckle under his breath before my eyes flicked to his. It was a moment of gratitude when he cleared his throat and straightened his posture, not muttering a single word more. I didn't need to give this girl a reason to run.

I couldn't help the broad smirk stretch across my face, not that she would even notice. No she was too busy playing with the loose threat of her shirt. Dazed by her own lyrical words, and most likely regretting the last five minutes of her life.

"Oh really" I couldn't help but question with a little pep to my words. I won't lie, I was enjoying this. Watching her body squirm under my gaze like I was her weakness, I felt powerful but also very amused.

I straightened to my full height but kept my arms crossed across my chest, my smile never fading. This girl was really something.

"Go on..." I asked as I lifted an eyebrow, my gaze never wavers from hers.

Her head shot up, I could see her brain ticking away. Most likely over thinking the situation she got herself into.

“I... ugh- I only just read that part" she stuttered barely above a whisper.

Before I had the chance to reply to the vixen my view was obstructed. Blue eyes pierced into mine, it wasn't a foreign experience looking into them but it was an experience I unfortunately discovered one too many times.

"Hiya Finn" Her slightly squeaky voice made me shutter. I learnt a few months back that Chloe wasn't going to give up, yes I might have led her on at the start, body first, mind second. I am a guy, and nobody in their right mind can say they have never done or won’t ever do something like that. By the time I learnt other aspects about Chloe, the way she coolly spoke about other females, her slightly flirtatious fingers that wondered a bit too much along the planes of my body I realised we had nothing in common. She likes attention, I hated it. That was more than enough reason to keep away. I hadn't even kissed the girl and I have to fend her off with a spatula.

Her finger nails slide alone my shirt, whilst her other hand tangled through her hair, twirling her locks into a tight knot. Ha! Hope her fingers get fucking stuck.

"Chloe" I nodded, removing her hand and backing up slightly. I noticed her smile drop before her fake facade crept its way back onto her face.

"I was thinking that maybe we could hang out again tomorrow night" her sickly sweet voice was drumming through my head. I noticed her eyes flick back towards Rae who still looked like a deer in headlights. A smug smirk etched its way onto her slim face, and I knew exactly what was going on.

I knew at that moment she was marking her territory. Fuck, she might as well just cock her leg and piss on me instead. I've had numerous girls attempt this, and all of them failed. I was not some object, I liked my space and I liked to make my own decisions. And right now my own monologue sounded like a pre-teen-fucking-girl.

"Actually chlo" I spoke coolly, fuck I hope this worked. "Rae and I already had plans".

Four mouths dropped in unison, but only two mouths spoke- or yelled.

"What" Chloe and Rae were in sync, both tones slightly pitchy but I gave it a C+ for effort.

"Maybe all that erotic smut has seeped too far into that head of yours Rae" I wiggled my eyebrows to emphasize what I meant; "If you don't remember us having plans tonight, then maybe I should just drag you away now".

I hoped to God Rae played along with this one, my eyes were pleading to her. I could see the sparkle of mischief in those doe eyes, it manifested in self into a full blown grin and I was nearly knocked of my feet.

Two rows of while teeth, cute little dimples that sat on the edge of her beautiful smile, and I even noticed the wrinkle she got near her eye.

God, this sad sap of and man could just reach out and pinch the roundness of her cheeks like an overbearing Grandma. I have officially lost my balls.

"Oh that. Sorry totally forgot, ugh. Well all I really remember is that you- you promised me pizza all expenses paid for and I can't really turn that down" Rae was a natural liar, I wasn't sure to be scared or amazed.

"You sure you need the pizza" Chloe mumbled under her breath, but I know that Rae and the others had heard her snide comment.

Just as I was about to say something in return, I heard Rae speak up. To say I was shocked was an understatement, to say I was now stiff as a board down stairs was completely accurate. Oh the bite in her words was beyond erotic.

"Well Chlo, yeah I do. An ass like this doesn't stay this round by only eating salad. Maybe you should try it one day; I mean it might give them something to look at from behind".

SHE HAD ME. HOOK. LINE. SINKER.

My arm was then suddenly torn from my body, blood spraying the weak as zombies raided the school demolishing those who couldn’t run fast enough. Poor Chloe dead, her jugular spraying warm blood one the walls… is what I wanted to narrate but really it was Rae pulling me along towards the library exit whilst I threw I peace sign over my shoulder to gayer, red and blow –up Barbie. Oh I could so be a writer.

She let me go from her clutches as soon as we were far enough away and stopped awkwardly. She smelled like coconut, her face flushed red, and her tacky bag just hung limp from her hand.

“Okay well this was fun- ugh… See ya!” have you ever watched a girl speed walk away from you like you just announced that you had leprosy? Well that was what Rae was currently doing and I must say my ego wasn’t too impressed.

“HEY!” I yelled, which caused her to walk a little faster. I swear she could win Olympic gold with that stride.

“Rae Stop! I mean it…” shit this was not working. She had managed to cross the quad and head towards the front of the school. I knew once she made it out of the gate I would lose her. So many possible ways she could turn and with a walk like that I wouldn’t be surprised if she walked all the way to London by the time I made it to the chippy.

It was time to officially lose any street cred that I had.

Operation embarrass-the-shit-out-of-rae-until-she-stops comenses.

“Rae Earl! How could you do that to me! Kiss me then leave me for another!” I yelled, fake sobs raked my body and any student between her and I gawked. Including Rae herself, excellent.

“You told me it was only me!” I continued, falling to my knees in a dramatic fashion.

I looked at the ground as she started to cuss in my direction. I didn’t need to see her to know she was currently heading my way.

“Get the fuck up Finn”.

“Why don’t you love me anymore?” I wailed waving my hands in the air like a mother giving birth. I really shouldn’t have dropped drama class. I was just imagining my name in flashing lights- Finn ‘the knicker dropper’ Nelson, God of the theatre. Ultra sexy alter ego named ‘Nico mirallegro’ king of the Italian mafia. (Always had a thing for Italian names, sue me!)

“If I wanted to listen to an asshole Finn, I’d fart. Now get the fuck up!” Rae’s face was just a whisper from my ear and I couldn’t help but crack a large grin as I got back to my knees.

“You had me at hello” I spoke lustfully giving her a good ol’ wink.

“You’re a pervert! Why the fuck did you just do that to me… and you? Aren’t you worried about your reputation! God you are so stupid” she smacked her palm on her forehead and huffed.

I sighed. “Why would I care what any of these people think?” twisting my brows together as I saw the shock on her face. “… and plus the way you were walking you’ve be in Australia before I knew it. I wanted you to stop”.

She gave me a look as to say ‘why?’ and I breathed heavily… well ive already gone this far.

“I thought we had plans… you know-pizza?”

“You meant that?” I nodded.

“Oh well I thought you were just saying that to get away from Chloe” I rubbed my face with my hands and then looked straight into her chocolate eyes.

“You intrigue me Rae. You act different, you look different. I need a change in my life. So what do you say? Pizza…?”

Ohkay who the fuck am i, and what have i just done to grumpy Finn. i took me years to perfect that grunt, and in a matter of 10 minutes she just managed to turn me into a completely different person. Ohkay maybe i need to rethink my acting career, im not good at staying in character.

----

Its short i know, but its up. SO TEll ME HOW IT WAS YO! 

TAG LIST THUS FAR…

@lovinglifeandlivinglove

@bitchy-broken

@nenita1978

@lau-vm

@lilaviolet

@fuck-sewing-machine

@tinakegg

@broadwaybaby25

@girlwithafoxhat

@rae-as-in-rachel

@nutinanutshell

@jackiewalsh2013

@kneekeyta

@parisgirly93

@pink-royaute

@cocora84

@eveerez

@luly310

@milllott

@bitchesbecrazy89

I just copied my old tag list, so im sorry if i missed anyone. feel free to remind this old girl if i did :D

#mmfd #mmfdfanfic #mmfdfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fandom #finn #finn x rae #Rae+Finn #fiction #my mad fat diary #mymadfatdiary #myfatdiary #my+mad+fat+diary #my mad fat diary fan fiction #honest comments