#seeing her invoked feelings i had gotten over

[moralesmilesanhour]

Hello!!! How are you? I’ve been a follower for the past few days and was wondering if I could request something.

I was hoping to request a fic or like give you a prompt for something for miles42 × femreader

So it goes like this- yk those super corny reads that are like the reader's pinning for miles and like sometimes miles finds them annoying but in a cute way but he don't know that her yk? So he's talking to his homeboys about her, talm about some how she's so "annoying, a nuisance" and guess who's behind the wall listening? The reader herself.

So this goes one of two ways- she either matches up there, confronts him. And she's like "flipping fine, if that's how you feel then lemme get out of ur way- you won't hear a peep from me" and she like just ignores him and he learns how he feels about her, sees how his life is so boring without her and all that- goes to apologize happy ending..

Option number 2: silent treatment. Like just slowly drifting away until he once again comes to the realization that he needs her and all that happy ending yay!

Feel free to do whatever you want with this but I'm thinking of sending the same request to other authors to see what they come up with cause everyone has a style k? And i just love studying them and reading them cause evervtime- no matter how similar the prompt is- they always manage to invoke different feelings with in me.

Anyway- have fun doing this- but remember you don't have to cause this is kinda too much and I'm sorry😓

"I want my pen back."

wc: >1,200 A/N: okay so i got a bit carried away...this is a long one. (yes I am using this as an excuse to try out the gradient thing) thank you anon for this fun request! i also rlly like ur reasoning behind it and i hope i was able to do this prompt some type of justice lol

The gel pen clattered to the ground.

“I got it,” you said, grinning at Miles. You squat to grab it before the boy can act to get it himself, and he sighs as you hand it to him.

“Thanks.”

Miles turned the pen every which way between his fingers.

You had gifted it to him on the first day of school, with that same expectant grin. The little cartoon dogs that surrounded the perimeter had begun to fade with use because – admittedly – it had actually turned out to be a good ass pen.

He’d thought initially that you were just being nice; maybe you were handing shit out to everyone because it was the first day, understandable. 

But then, it was highlighters (the erasable ones).

Pink sticky-notes on his locker, telling him to have a nice day with the ‘i’s dotted with hearts.

A new sketchbook for Secret Santa.

Miles’ pencil case had rapidly gotten bulkier, and when you rushed to grab a seat next to him during the one class without assigned seats, it finally clicked.

You were trying to get his attention. And he wasn’t sure what would happen if you got it.

“I like the new braids.”

He was snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to you.

“Huh?”

“The braids,” you laughed. “I like the pattern. Who did ‘em for you?”

A tiny smirk ghosted the boy’s lips.

“My mom. Just like the last time you asked me.”

He ran a hand instinctively over the meandering zig-zag pattern that his cornrows had been sectioned into. Miles looked at you from his periphery; you were still staring. 

“Bitch, just ask him out already!”

Your friend smacked the back of your shoulder as the two of you took your sweet time getting back to your lockers.

“Alright, today, I swear,” you said, hand over your heart for emphasis.

A beat of silence passes. “But what if he says no?” 

She groaned.

“Then he says no, and you can save your money. But say something, it’s getting embarrassing.”

Your friends’ encouragement landed you here, around the corner of a building where Miles and a gaggle of other boys from your homeroom were bursting into raucous laughter.

“Yo, why you ain’t bag her yet? She wants you bad,” one boy said.

Unsure if the ‘she’ in question was you, you stay where you are and keep listening.

“I dunno, she kinda annoying,”

Miles’ low voice makes your ears perk up.

“One day she gon’ run outta things to say about my hair, she has to!”

…Oh.

The buoyant feeling in your chest sinks as the group erupts into another laughing fit. If you asked him out now, you’d hear about it for the rest of the year.

Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turn back the way you came. 

Miles knew something was off when you sat down the next morning without a word. 

“You good?” he asked.

You glanced at him, then nodded before going back to playing with the beads in your hair. The excruciating silence stretched on for almost the entirety of class before it was broken again.

“Do you…wanna help me with my homework? I’ll really let you, this time.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Morales, you got an ‘A’ in every class.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Your name’s on every bulletin board.”

“Damn,” the boy muttered to himself as his leg bounced under the desk.

Your beads clattered against your back as you rose from your seat. The bell had rung, finally. You didn’t even say ‘bye’.

Miles cracked open his locker. One of your sticky notes from last week had begun to un-stick and fluttered to the ground. There were no new ones. He bent to pick it up, noticing how neat and round your handwriting was on these compared to the way you wrote in class. The letters didn’t run together, like you were in a rush.

Neatly folding the note and sticking it in his pocket, Miles shut his locker to reveal your face. The boy nearly yelped in surprise.

“Where the hell did you come from? Scared the shit outta me,” he said with a grin.

“I want my pen back.”

Miles froze. 

“Which pen?”

You tilted your chin up towards the one he was currently gripping in his left hand. He looked down at it like a wad of cash.

“Oh.”

He couldn’t just not give the pen back to you…

…but he didn’t want to give it to you, either.

“What you need it for? Don’t you have, like, a whole store full of these?”

“Miles, I gotta get to class. I’m not playing,” you reached for Miles’ hand, but he raised it high above his head.

Instead of a smirk or mocking sneer, something like worry was etched onto the boy’s features. 

“Tell me what’s up witchu first.”

“What are you talking about? I’m about to be late, c’mon.”

“You ain’t said a word to me all day,” he dropped his hand momentarily. “Are you sick? Did I do something? What–hey!”

You had snatched the pen out of the boy’s hand when he wasn’t looking, throwing it into your bag.

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

You turn to retreat down the hallway, but stop with a huff when Miles calls after you.

“Wait!”

“I’m waiting.”

“Come see me after school?”

You kicked an empty can down the sidewalk in front of Miles’ apartment.

“Make this quick, I gotta go study.”

He looks everywhere else to avoid meeting your eyes, looking for the right words.

“You didn’t answer me earlier,” Miles awkwardly shuffled his feet. “Are you mad at me?”

“...Yeah, kinda.”

“For what?”

You stop to think for a moment, crossing your arms. 

“For…for letting me hand you that pen, knowing you weren’t gonna give it back,” you began.

Miles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s it?”

You shook your head profusely, “N-no, I’m not done. You let me buy you all that stuff, put all that dumb shit in your locker, whole time you don’t even like me–”

“You don’t know that,” Miles interrupted. Your head snapped up to look at him, and you paused.

“I don’t?”

Neither of you say anything for a moment, then Miles remembers the note in his pocket. He takes it out and shows it to you.

“These? Are cute as fuck,”

He searches for more words, ten continues, "A-and I use that sketchbook every day. That pen? It’s like, my favorite,” he laughs. “I got half a mind to steal it back from you.”

Miles watches you expectantly. Your arms are still crossed, but the corners of your lips quirk up in amusement.

“So you like getting free stuff.”

“No-! I…”

The boy’s arms had begun to flail around in frustration. You hold back a giggle, never having seen him squirm like this before. It’s a nice change of pace.

“Alright, listen. I like hearing you talk to me every morning, and…”

He trailed off. He had begun slightly bouncing on his toes.

“...I like you.”

At some point while watching Miles struggle to explain himself, the float-y feeling in your chest had come back. You tilted your head to the side, and smiled.

“Okay. What are you gonna do about it?”

The boy’s eyes lit up.

“Where do you wanna go?”

#earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #moralesanhour #requests

[shuadotcom]

In Case You Didn’t Know (M)

Pairing: Lee Chan x Fem!Reader

Summary: Chan has always been just one of your step-brother’s best friends. He’s also been in love with you for as long as everyone remembers, but you never paid him much mind - that is until you decide to return home after many years away and you see the man he’s become. He goes from being your little brother’s best friend to being the perfect man for you in a matter of months. Now the questions are who wants who more and will either of you do anything about your feelings?

Genres: Fluff, romance, smut, a little angst | AUs: Brother’s best friend au, roommates au, 90s au

Rating: 18+(MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED) | Words: 28.8k 🥴

Warnings: Profanity, alcohol use, will-they-won’t-they tension, a scene of reader x Lee Minhyuk (suggestive) and reader x Joshua (romantic) | Smut Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering (f.receiving), oral (f.receiving), thigh riding, praise, dirty talk, pet names (baby, babygirl, good boy), service top!Chan

Note: Written for the Now That’s 90s collab hosted by @beomcoups & @mingsolo ! I wanted to get this out for Christmas but my brain had other plans. I wanted to invoke a kind of cheesy Christmas romance movie feel to this while still keeping it 90s so that’s the vibe we’re going for! Thank you to the always amazing @wongyuseokie for the lovely banner 💙 And thank you @wooahaeproductions for beta reading my word vomit and helping me come up with this title! I love and appreciate you very much my beta/fic title queen! 💖 Also, I want to give giant sappy thank yous, hugs, and kisses to Bee, @horanghater, @onlymingyus, and @the-boy-meets-evil for all giving me pep talks and offering support throughout the process of this fic coming to exist. It’s my longest fic ever and I wanted to start over so many more times than I did so I appreciate and love y’all v much!! 🥹💞🫶🏽

“Miss? We’re here,” The taxi driver's voice wakes you, bleary eyes focusing on the apartment building outside the car window. You hadn’t been sleeping that long, but it was long enough to make you tired after your fifteen-hour flight to Seoul. That, coupled with the heat of the taxi made you cozy enough to nap, but you’re finally looking forward to being out of a moving vehicle.

As the taxi driver unloads your suitcases from the trunk, you step out into the cold September air, and triple-check the address of the apartment building, comparing the number on the building in front of you to what’s written in your planner in hand. You had verified the address with your step-brother each time the two of you spoke on the phone leading up to your flight to Korea.

When you originally told Hansol that you decided that you were ready to quit your flight attendant career and move back home, your original plan was to move back in with your parents. Going into it, you knew well enough that the move would be annoying. You loved your mom and stepdad, but your mom was a bit of a helicopter mom growing up, so you can only imagine what living under her roof again would be like.

Luckily, you and your brother have always gotten along and been close, so instead of subjecting you to moving back home, he offered to let you move in with him and his roommate. Their third roommate was planning on moving out to live with his partner, so his room would be open for the taking. 

“It’d be so much easier than putting an ad in the paper or online and interviewing strangers. You and Chan are cool right?” Hansol had asked, referring to his other roommate. Lee Chan was one of his best friends since you all were kids. Other than his very loud and very obvious crush on you, you had no problem with Chan and gladly accepted the room offer.

After you and your brother made a plan for you to move in, you contacted your oldest and closest friend who had offered you job opportunities before, citing if you ever wanted to move back to South Korea, she would do her damndest to get you something. Needless to say, she was thrilled to hear your voice when you finally called and broke the news. 

The planning to get here seemed like it took forever, but now that you’re back with your feet on Seoul soil, you were happy. The journey of closing this chapter of your life was wrapping up. Now you will have a chance at doing something different for the next part of your life.

With both full-to-the-brim suitcases in hand, you roll them behind you into the building and to the elevator. The ride to the third floor is short and the walk to your brother’s apartment is even shorter.

Just as he had instructed, you lift the welcome mat to find a key waiting for you and use it to let yourself in. 

“Han?” You call your brother’s name once inside but don’t get a response. You can hear water running down the hall and see shoes by the door so he’s obviously home. 

Your eyes sweep over the living room as you take off your coat and boots. You’re surprised at just how clean the apartment is with two men in their mid-twenties living in it. The couch is a simple black fabric three-seater with a matching chair off to the side. A brown wood coffee table sits in front of both with a few magazines and two remotes on it. Presumably, for the TV and VCR sitting across the room from the seating. 

You had half expected to see clothes and movies strewn across the floor and furniture, but there’s none of that in sight. 

After hanging your coat on the rack by the door and leaving your boots with the other pair, you leave your suitcases in the foyer and start down the hallway, heading for what you assume is the bathroom. You’re not sure which room is Hansol’s, but he mentioned that he’d be home when you got in, so you plan on poking your head into each door until you find the one that so obviously screams Chwe Hansol.

The water cuts off in the bathroom as your socked feet pad across the carpet and you make a pitstop at the bathroom, figuring you’ll just meet your brother there instead.

“Hansol?” You raise a hand to knock on the door at the same time that it swings open. It is most certainly not your brother on the other side.

Out of the bathroom, clad in only a fluffy white towel slung low on his hips, steps your brother’s roommate and best friend Lee Chan.

The same Lee Chan that you’ve known since he was in grade school when his hair was spiked, his eyes were too far apart and his head was too big for his body. The same one that’s been hopelessly in love with you since he and his family moved in next door to you and Hansol when he was ten. You of course have had to turn him down all of your life. Other than the fact that he’s a few years younger than you, he was always just your brother’s awkward but sweet best friend. You remember exactly how he looked and how he acted - like a kid.

This Lee Chan though is different. This Lee Chan very clearly works out. His arms are muscular and buff. He has defined pecs and abs that are still covered in flecks of water that are dripping down his built body. Dripping down to the light dusting of hair leading from his belly button and underneath the towel.

This Lee Chan has a strong jaw, pouty lips, and dark hair that hangs in his eyes. This Lee Chan is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life - and a man he most certainly is. Your eyes unabashedly sweep over his mouth-watering frame until you meet his brown eyes and you remember instantly that this is still the Lee Chan that you should absolutely not be looking at like this. 

“Oh! Y/n!” His voice is much deeper than you remember and it sits heavy in the pit of your stomach.

“Chan! Sorry, I thought you were Hansol! He said he’d be home when I got in.” You clear your throat, trying to get a grip on yourself. 

“Oh yeah, he got called into work at the last minute. He left you a note on the fridge.” 

“Oh, okay.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, neither of you speaking.

“Well uh, let me get dressed and then I can give you a tour of the apartment and your room. I’m heading out soon to meet up with some friends, but I have time.” 

“Only if you want to! I don't want to hold you up!”

“You won’t, promise! Just give me a few minutes.”

Chan flashes you a smile that fills up his whole face and you can’t help but notice how handsome he looks.

You nod and scurry to the opposite side of the hallway, realizing that you’re still trapping him in the doorway of the bathroom. You watch him walk into what you can only assume is his room and go back into the living room, waiting for him on the couch. 

You’re thankful for him needing to take a few minutes because you need some time yourself as well. The fact that this man is the same boy that you grew up alongside is a lot to wrap your head around. 

The two of you have always gotten along. He was a sweet kid even though all he did was follow you around at any moment he could. He was funny and probably one of Hansol’s most respectful friends which you appreciate, given that his friend group was all just a bunch of rowdy boys, but you’ve never thought about him like that in all the time that you knew him. 

Over the years, there have been a few times where you’d see him in pictures your mom would email or mail to you whenever you were somewhere for a long period of time. The last time you’d come home for the holidays was three years ago and you saw Chan briefly, but from what you recall, he just looked like some guy to you when you had seen him. He did not look like this then and he certainly hadn’t been this good-looking growing up or maybe you would have entertained something with him. 

That thought is only fleeting and you have to calm your heart (and your pussy) from reacting to seeing him like this. He’s still your little brother’s best friend and he’s now your roommate, and in no way can anything happen. That is messy on so many levels. 

This sudden onslaught of want has to be because you’re just that desperate for a romantic connection with someone. Or you just need to get laid. Trying to maintain any semblance of a relationship in your line of work proved to be harder than you’d think.

For the past almost 10 years of working in the sky, you’ve had your fair share of hookups here and there. Your last was a fun, albeit messy, fling with a new pilot you were often on the same flights with named Kevin. He was handsome and funny and easy to get along with, but that didn’t end well, seeing how he got right to work hooking up with all the other flight attendants on his flights. You weren’t sure if commitment in the form of officially being boyfriend and girlfriend was what you wanted with him, but you had gone out of your way to make sure you weren’t sleeping around or seeing other people when the two of you got together. He didn’t agree with that.

Before Kevin, there was another flight attendant you were often on the same flights as. Krystal was sweet and the two of you had grown close, but she wanted to keep your relationship a secret from everyone all of the time. You had known going into it that you were still in a time where people were weird about queer people, but you also didn’t care that much. She did though, and ended up calling it off mostly due to paranoia.

Then there was the wealthy businessman, Jacob. He was an amazing guy and an even more amazing lay, but he wanted you to quit your job and move to Canada with him. This was a bit earlier in your career so you were nowhere near ready to abandon it all. He didn’t like that and would get into huge fights with you about it until you finally broke it off.

There were other tries and fails, but the moral of the story is that dating was damn near impossible for you for most of your adult life. Now that you’re planning on finally settling somewhere, you need to get back onto the dating scene and stop lusting over someone you should not be drooling over.

Chan comes out of his room then, dressed and hair styled. He’s clad in denim jeans and a white, long-sleeved shirt and somehow your eyes still sweep over him as if he’s still standing in front of you in a towel. 

He doesn’t seem to notice your ogling since he simply flashes you a wide smile and beckons you to follow him into the next room.

“So, the apartment isn’t anything too fancy. We’ve got the kitchen around the corner here; if you go through that door, that’s the balcony. There’s a couple of chairs and a drying rack out there - nothing very interesting.” He points around the simple kitchen, gesturing to the sliding door next to the fridge leading to the balcony. Chan walks in front of you again to lead you back out into the living room and you can’t help but catch a whiff of his cologne. The warm, woodsy scent makes you groan internally, and yet again, you need to check yourself.

He gestures to the living room, mentioning the entertainment center and their VHS collection. He mentions that your brother made a space for you under the sink in the bathroom for you to put some of your things. Chan points out the small closet next to the bathroom where they keep extra towels and linens and the washing machine which sits in a small nook next to that closet.

The room directly across from the bathroom belongs to Hansol, and when looking inside you see that’s obvious. Posters line the walls and CDs and books are piled on the dark wood desk in the corner. Clothes are strewn about on the floor along with a few pairs of sneakers. Since the rest of the apartment is cleaned up, clearly Hansol reserves the mess for his own space.

The second room next to Hansol’s is Chan’s. He lets you poke your head in and you’re surprised at how neat it is, much like the main area of the apartment. It’s safe to assume that Chan must be in charge of keeping things neat or at least keeping your notoriously messy brother in line. 

The last room at the end of the hall is yours. It previously belonged to Seungkwan, another one of Hansol’s best friends and their former roommate. It’s clean and neat, with a desk against the wall on one side and a made-up bed on the other. A dresser sits near the closet next to a full-length mirror. Otherwise, there’s not much else in it.

“Oh! Let me grab your bags! I should’ve offered.” Chan ignores your protest telling him not to worry about it and goes to get your suitcases anyway.

He wheels them down the hall and into your room as you grab your backpack and purse and follow behind him.

“Thanks, Chan.” He leaves your luggage by the door and smiles at you again.

“No worries, Y/n,” Chan checks his watch before announcing that he’s about to leave. “ If you need anything, Hansol should be back later this afternoon and I know he keeps the number to his work line on the fridge. I’ll probably be home in the evening, but otherwise, the apartment is yours since you live here now.” Chan waves at you as he leaves your room and you take a seat on the chair in front of the desk, listening as he collects his things and shouts another goodbye, closing, and locking the front door behind him.

The apartment is quiet when it’s just you and the temptation to sprawl out onto the bed and take a nap is so real, but instead, you force yourself up and out into the living room. You know that you should call your mom and let her know you’ve landed, but you also know she’ll talk your ear off if she answers, and you’re not really in the mood for that.

Instead, you pick up the phone on the side table and call your childhood best friend Jinah, intending to coordinate a time to meet and catch up. When she doesn’t answer you leave a message, letting her know this phone number and that you’ve made it to Seoul. There are a few other friends you need to connect with, but that can wait until later. 

For now, you decide that a hot shower is calling you. Admittedly, it takes a few minutes for you to figure out how the shower works, but when you do, you’re more than thankful for the opportunity to clear your head and finally relax. You’ve been frazzled and stressed for months leading up to quitting your career and moving back home, but now that it’s done and you’re here, you feel as though you get a little bit of breathing room.

You still have the matter of getting a new job, which Jinah will be helping you with, and eventually, you need to figure out where you’ll move after you’re back on your feet since you don’t plan on making staying with your brother permanent, but for now, the biggest hurdle of moving back across the globe has been crossed. 

After your shower, you make note of how your stomach growls, but decide to get a little unpacking done first. You already know that if you don’t at least start, your suitcases may sit in this room for days until you have the willpower to put things away. After digging your discman out of your backpack, you pop in an Aaliyah CD and get to work. 

You only get as far as folding your underwear and bras and putting those in the dresser before you’re stretching out on the bed and telling yourself you’ll only close your eyes for a moment before resuming. 

Your head feels groggy when you open your eyes, sit up, and take in your surroundings. For a moment, you forget where you are, until you remember you’re in your new room in Seoul. Sun shines through the curtains covering your window and you spot your discman on the nightstand next to your head. 

When you poke your head out of your room, you can hear soft sounds from the TV in the living room, but before you investigate, you take a detour to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

“Look who’s returned to the land of the living!” Hansol greets you when you finally make your way into the living room. He’s lounging on the couch, watching a variety show, but quickly gets up to pull you into a hug.

“Hey, Sol. What time is it?”

“Ten.”

“In the morning?!” You blink at the window with the curtains drawn open, frowning at the sunlight coming into the room. “I got in at noon yesterday!”

Hansol chuckles as you plop onto the couch next to him. “Yep. I tried to wake you when I got home yesterday, but you just grumbled at me and turned back over. I put your discman on the nightstand so you wouldn’t knock it off or anything so you’re welcome.” 

“Damn, guess I was just that tired.”

“Yeah, Chan tried to get you up too, but you didn’t budge. He brought dinner home but not even food could get you up.” Hansol laughs, thankfully not noticing the way his words fluster you. The thought of Chan seeing you sprawled out on your bed, mouth likely open as you slept is embarrassing. You quickly have to remind yourself that he is your roommate so he’s bound to see you sleeping and to get over it.

“That explains why it feels like there’s a gaping hole in the pit of my stomach.”

“Don’t worry, there’s leftover pizza in the fridge for you. And I’m sure there’s some other stuff to tide you over until later.”

“Where’s Chan now?”

“Work. Same place I’m about to go. It’s my turn for dinner tonight so I’ll bring chicken home with me.”

“Ugh, I haven’t had good fried chicken since I was in the States and we landed in Atlanta, Georgia for a while.”

“I got you. There’s a really good place not far from the apartment.”

“You’re the best, Sol.”

“I know,” your brother boasts, getting off the couch to stretch. 

“Oh! Mom called last night for you. She’s pissed you didn’t call her when you got here.”

Letting out a groan, you roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. I just didn’t have it in me to listen to her tell me a story that I’ve probably already heard ten times. I’ll call her later after I finish unpacking. I already know she’s gonna want me to come over.”

“Oh, she does. She wants us both over tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?! She didn’t even ask if that works!”

“She didn’t, but that’s because she knows I’m off work tomorrow and in her words, ‘it’s not like your sister has any obligations yet, so you can come over close to lunch.’” 

Hansol’s recounting of your mom’s words forces another eye roll out of you, but you’ll both be there and you already know it.

“I’m running to the bathroom then I’ll get ready to head out. Here, have fun.” He hands you the TV remote before disappearing into the bathroom. 

Before you can get comfortable, you pull your tired body from the couch to grab leftovers and eat before your mom calls again, inevitably nagging you about not calling her earlier.

As expected when you settle back down to call, your mom picks up the phone on the first ring and spends the next ten minutes chastising you for not calling her when you landed. You apologize multiple times, assuring her that both you and Hansol will visit her tomorrow. 

Also as expected she talks your ear off for about twenty minutes, giving you updates that you know she’ll tell you about again tomorrow. Thankfully, the mailman shows up in the middle of another story about the neighbor she’s been having a holiday decoration war with for the last three years in a row so she lets you go, saying she’s happy to see you tomorrow.

Jinah is next on your call list and she also picks up after a few rings, cheering as soon as she hears your voice, celebrating your arrival in Seoul. 

“I’m so happy we’re in the same timezone again!”

“Me too. I don’t even remember the last time we got to sit and chat.”

“I want to say it was when we were both in Spain last year. You had that day-long layover and I was out there for Fashion Week.”

“Oh, you’re right! You met that guy at that mall we went to.”

“Mmm, Ricky! He was so sweet. He still calls me sometimes. I don’t always answer, but he tries.” Jinah giggles, no doubt at some memory of her and the model she easily picked up that day.

She shifts around on the other line. “Oh damn, as much as I want to catch up with you babe, I’m about to head out for a meeting. Can we meet up tomorrow?”

“Yeah, if you can do it late in the afternoon? My mom wants me and Hansol to come over tomorrow. She already chewed my head off for not calling her when I got in.”

“Oh, Mrs. Chwe. Well, after you’re done with family time, let’s meet up! There’s a new bakery that opened in Hongdae that I haven’t tried yet. We can go together since it’s not too far from your parents’ place.”

“Please! I am craving a croissant actually.” Jinah tells you the address which you quickly write down, agreeing to meet tomorrow afternoon.

With that call over, you decide to finally bite the bullet and finish unpacking your things so you can stop thinking about it. It doesn’t take very long, seeing how your whole life was packed away in two suitcases, a backpack, and a purse. You make a mental note to do some decoration shopping for your room once you have the funds and decide to reward yourself with TV time. 

You didn’t get to catch up on many shows always being on the go, so you plan to spend your time now getting in the know and watching as many reruns as you can catch. Among other things, not being in the sky for 90% of your time will offer you the opportunity to take things much slower. You’re used to always either being on a plane, spending a few nights in hotels or short-term rental places, or rushing between all of these destinations, so you plan on doing the complete opposite with your new schedule now.

You’re stretched out on the couch, enjoying an episode of one of the new dramas everyone around you has mentioned when you fall asleep again, your eyelids unable to concentrate for long.

You don’t even realize you’ve fallen asleep until you feel yourself being slightly shaken, your eyes cracking open to see Chan staring down at you. When your eyes finally adjust you get a better look at him and note how handsome he looks in his leather jacket and beanie. Why is that even the first thing you thought?

“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re home and we have dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, fried chicken!” You sit up, groggily rubbing your eyes and you see Hansol coming into the living room, bag in hand.

You step away to freshen up, fixing your hair and splashing some water on your face. Your brother and Chan have already set up the chicken and beer on the coffee table, taking their seats on the floor around the table as Hansol flips through TV channels.

Plopping on the floor across from Chan, Hansol pulls a can of soda out of the bag next to you, sliding it over your way. You eagerly open it, thanking him for remembering your lack of enthusiasm about drinking, and grab a piece of chicken.

“So, Y/n,” Chan starts, his full attention on you. “What brought you back to Seoul? When we talked about you moving in, Hansol told me you wanted to quit and move home, but I didn’t ask why.” 

“I was just ready for something more stable, is all. Traveling the world is fun and I didn’t hate my job - I met a ton of new and interesting people - but at some point, I just got tired of never having a true place that is mine. I mean, I’ve been doing this since I was twenty. There are only so many hotels and rental places a person can do until they get tired of the constant movement.”

“That makes sense. When I went abroad during my first year of college I got super homesick so I ended up coming back. Some of our friends said I was lame for coming back, but I don’t know, I’ve always loved Korea you know? It’s where I grew up and I feel safe and secure here. I guess I just needed time away to decide what I wanted to do.”

You nod along, understanding what he means. You didn’t know too much about Chan after you graduated and left Korea, so it was nice to learn a little more about him.

“I get that, I mean we see I’m back now after all these years. Some people just gravitate back to where they came from.”

“Yeah, I was just surprised when Hansol mentioned you coming back. I remember you being so excited after graduation because you knew what you wanted to do already and I know you just wanted to see something else other than here.” Chan smiles at you gently. The fact that he remembers how you were feeling after graduation is sweet to you.

“I was excited and I don’t regret what I chose to do. It was fun but ended up not being my end-all-be-all, which is okay. But anyway, enough about me! Hansol told me that you own a dance studio?”

“Oh, yeah. I took over my dad’s dance studio. He’s still around, but I own it. We’re talking about expanding and making it an actual dance company. People from all over Korea come to the studio, so if we can find more spaces and good instructors we can open another here and even abroad.”

“That’s amazing, Chan! You always loved to dance. I’m glad you’re able to do it full-time.” The tips of Chan’s ears redden at your compliment and he takes a long swig of his beer. 

“Thanks, Y/n.”

“Of course. I only hope that now that I’m back I can find the next thing that I want to do. My friend Jinah, I don’t know if you guys remember her, but she’s going to get me a job at the modeling agency she works at. It’ll probably just be something in the office until I find something else or figure out my next move.”

“Well, you’ve always been really smart and ambitious so I’m sure you’ll find something you’re good at now that you’re back.”

“Thank you, Chan.” You feel your face heat up at his words.

The two of you seem to share a moment where you both glance down at your food, then back up at each other every few minutes.

Hansol suddenly clears his throat as if reminding you both that he’s sitting right in between you.

“Things at my job are going well thanks for asking.”

You both snap out of whatever that moment was and recover by asking Hansol how he likes his new responsibilities, recalling the raise he got recently at work. Hansol’s worked for the same newspaper company for the past four years and you know he’s done his best to gain a good reputation at the company and that he works hard. 

You do your best to avoid the questioning look he’s passing between the two of you and instead take a big bite of the chicken wing in front of you.

“It’s good. I write movie reviews now which is cool. I get to see a bunch of movies that come out before the general public for free. It’s much better than the random articles they had me working on before this promotion.”

“I’m proud of you, Sol.” You reach over to ruffle his hair with the hand not touching your food, ignoring the groan he lets out at the action. “Maybe one day you can bring your big sister to one of these early movie showings?”

“Tch, good luck. He won’t even bring me,” Chan mumbles, taking another sip of beer.

“I’m watching movies for work, thank you very much.” Hansol rolls his eyes at the way that Chan sticks his tongue out at him playfully. “Speaking of work, Y/n, make sure you let me know soon if Jinah can’t get you into her company. We have some openings that popped up recently and I’m sure I can get you in if you need it.”

“I will. We’re gonna hang out tomorrow after we see Mom and Dad and I’ll ask her more about it then.”

The three of you spend the rest of dinner watching TV and spend more time catching up. Hansol talks about some upcoming articles he has to work on, Chan goes over more plans for expanding his father’s dance studio, and the men both question you about all the places you’ve traveled to and everything you did as a flight attendant. 

After dinner, you help clean up the trash before deciding to go to bed. Your internal clock is still readjusting to a semi-normal schedule, so you need at least a few more days before you can stay up later than 9 PM.

“Goodnight, guys,” You wave at the boys, heading down the hall into your room. You’ll take a shower in the morning - for now, you just want to rest.

Once you’re in your room, the door shut, Hansol eyes Chan as the man casts a few glimpses down the hall. He chuckles, getting his best friend’s attention.

“What?”

“Your crush is still showing, you know.”

Frowning, Chan looks between Hansol and the hallway before fixing his gaze on the TV.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hansol scoffs at him but drops it. He knows Chan well enough to know when he’s lying through his teeth, but he won’t press it.

“Whatever you say, dude.” Hansol shrugs, announcing that he’s going to get ready for bed too. Chan stays in the living room, staring at the TV for a little while longer, but not taking in the show.

All he can think about is the fact that he is very much still into you and he’s never actually stopped. When Hansol brought up you moving in with them, he had no problem with it. You’re his best friend’s sister who needs help, of course, he wouldn’t say no. Chan figured that it would be nice to get to know you more as an adult since all of the knowledge he has of you is the person you were from middle school to high school and the things he hears Hansol or the Chwes say about what you are doing or where you are.

He knew it would be nice to catch up and spend time with you because you’ve always gotten along and you were always nice to him. He hadn’t expected his decade-old crush to creep back into his heart the moment he laid eyes on you, but it did. Chan doesn’t know what to do with these feelings so for now, he’ll squash them down the same way he has since he was ten. He’s more than used to it by now.

“My Y/n!” 

It’s the first thing out of your mom’s mouth when she opens the front door, sweeping you up into a hug. She rocks you back and forth telling you how much she missed you.

“Wow, she never hugs me like that,” Hansol murmurs behind you as he steps inside and starts taking his shoes off.

“Oh, hush Sollie! I saw you two weeks ago. I haven’t seen your sister in two years!” 

She does end up reaching over to pull Hansol into a hug of his own, once she decides you can breathe again. Your stepdad follows a minute after, hugging you for a much more normal amount of time, but also makes sure to let you know he’s personally offended that you haven’t been home in so long.

As anticipated, your mom has a full spread of food waiting on the table and ushers you and Hansol to sit and eat. Also as expected, she gives you the third degree, wanting to know about your work, your plans, and everything in between, which includes your nonexistent love life. You appease her and keep it short and simple: you’re hearing from Jinah soon about a position, you plan on doing that for at least the next year or two to save up enough money to move into a place of your own, and you’re single and have been for months.

This turns into an almost two-hour visit. If your parents aren’t asking you about your travels or asking Hansol about his job, they’re circling back to you and the fact that ‘now that you’re home and getting situated, you can think about eventually settling down. Since you’re almost thirty.’

You keep to yourself that you have had pretty lackluster luck when it comes to dating overall, but your mom still finds opportunities to sprinkle in that she could ask around to her friends about whose sons may be single, and you tell her you don’t need the help (even though you know she’ll likely do it anyway). 

Eventually, you manage to get your parents to talk about themselves and get them to update you on things in the house they’re fixing up, how your dad is doing at work, and some new crochet projects your mom is working on.

Even though they can smother you at times, you know they both do what they do out of love - especially your mom. You did miss your parents at the end of the day and they mean well. They love you and Hansol and have missed you terribly - the latter a fact that your mom made sure to reiterate over and over again.

Before you leave, your mom repeats how happy she is that you’re back home, especially in time for the holidays, and truthfully, so are you. You love holidays because you love decorating and you love all of the themed things that come with holidays. Hansol mentions that he and Chan have never really worried about decorating their apartment, which you immediately informed him will change this year. You plan on decorating the apartment for Halloween and will turn it into a winter wonderland come November. Your brother knows you well enough not to argue and simply laughs, shrugging and telling you to go crazy.

After you finally manage to escape from your parents’ house, you and Hansol split up. He’s going to meet up with some friends and will meet you at home later, he says. You take a cab for the short ride to the coffee shop you and Jinah are meeting at and you notice you’ve arrived first when you don’t see anyone that resembles her.

You’ve only sat down for less than a minute when she sweeps into the shop with her long coat, big sunglasses, and beanie. She slips the sunglasses down her nose and peers around before meeting your eyes. A smile breaks out across her red-painted lips and she rushes over to you. She looks as pretty as she did growing up and it warms your heart. It makes complete sense that she’s such a prolific model now.

“Y/n!” She says your name when making it to the table and pulling you into a hug.

“Hey, Jinah! It’s so good to see you!”

“You too! It’s been too long and I hate it.” She pouts at you as she moves to her seat, shedding her coat, and hanging it on the back of her chair.

“I know, I know. But I’m here now.”

“You are and you’re gonna get sick of seeing me so much! Especially, if you get a spot at the company! I’m still waiting for my boss to get back to me about your resume.”

“Ugh, I hope it’s soon. I’m not picky about what’s open honestly, I just need something.”

“Well you know I’ll call you as soon as I get some info. I’m sure they’ll hire you. I’m noted as your referral and everyone loves me there!”

Before you dive into more chit chat, you pause the conversation, wanting to order coffee. Jinah takes your order and goes to the counter herself, quickly coming back with two hot cups of caffeine.

“Okay, so no more work talk. How is it living with a couple of twenty-something boys after jetsetting all around the world?”

“Not so bad really. The apartment is surprisingly clean and put together. Me and Hansol have always been close, you know so it’s good so far. And Chan is cool - we’ve always gotten along. He was always around growing up so I’m used to having him in my space anyway. He’s different now of course, but uh, yeah you know.”

You stumble, just slightly on your last sentence and something flashes in Jinah’s eyes, her perfectly waxed brows rising almost immediately. You forgot about the fact that no matter how long you two spend apart, she’s still your best friend and she knows you almost as well as she knows herself.

“He’s different?” There’s a tilt in her voice that you don’t recall having in your words.

“I didn’t say it like that!”

“Yes, the hell you did! He’s different how? All I remember about your brother’s best friend is some skinny, big-headed kid that followed us around at school and whenever I was over your house.”

You bite your lip, assessing Jinah and if there’s any way you can steer the conversation elsewhere. 

No such luck arrives for you though as she sits there, unwavering as she patiently waits for you to tell her the truth. You already know she won’t leave it alone if you don’t.

Begrudgingly, you give in, letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine, whatever, he’s fucking hot now, okay?! I’ve only been there like three days and any time I run into him he’s nothing but polite and considerate. He’s always been nice but he’s mature now. It’s just so different.”

“Hmph. So, you think he’s mature and polite and hot now? Got it.” She nods, taking a sip of her coffee, and swallowing slowly before speaking. “So do you think you’ll finally give him a chance?”

“Absolutely not! He’s younger than me and not only my brother’s best fucking friend but we’re roommates now. The level of messiness went from 80% to 180% if something goes wrong between us.”

“Yeah, but the chances of things going well also go from 80% to 180% too, right?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“But you’re both adults! What does it matter? Do you think Hansol will care?”

“I don’t know. But again, the main problem is if Chan and I only end up being a hookup or one of us wants something that the other doesn’t then living with the man will be incredibly awkward, and once again, he and my brother are best friends. Things won’t only be awkward for us, but I don’t want to drag Sol into that mess either. So it’s in everyone’s best interest that I keep my mouth and my legs closed and don’t even think about trying anything with Chan.”

Jinah hums and clearly disagrees but she doesn’t press it. Not that she has to because just like she knows you, you know her, and you know she has so many objections rattling around in her head.

“Anyway, time to hear about you! Tell me about your love life! Is it busy? Are you seeing anyone? Are you sleeping with anyone? I want to know everything about Im Jinah’s romantic endeavors.”

Your best friend clicks her tongue at you, noticing the obvious conversation redirect, but she obliges. She talks about a guy she’s mentioned to you before that she works with that she’s been on a few dates with. As an aside, she mentions that there are plenty of hot, single people at her company that you’ll run into, but you wave that part off.

She mentions that she needs to go shopping this upcoming weekend for a Halloween costume for a party a friend of hers is throwing at the end of October. She also addsthat you too, will be going to said party with her.

“I am?”

“You are. So, this weekend we’ll be getting costumes. A guy I’ve done a ton of ads and shoots with has a party every year and you’ll be my plus one! He’s super nice and pretty wealthy so his place is really nice.”

You do love Halloween and you haven’t really gotten to do much to celebrate it the last handful of years, so you agree to go, even though you knew she would’ve hounded you about going for days anyway. You saved both of you some trouble.

On the topic of Christmas, the two of you get caught up in talking about needing to figure out what to get people and when to go shopping to get ahead of it. You easily fall into conversation with your best friend, your subject changing every few minutes as you laugh and properly get caught up until you’ve both got two empty coffee cups each.

Eventually, Jinah glances at her watch and curses. 

“Damn, I’ve got another meeting to run to. My manager and I have been meeting with a few magazines for some last-minute holiday ads they want to shoot for. “I’ll be sure to badger her about any news on your resume okay?”

You and Jinah exchange your goodbyes and you promise to chat in a few days if you don’t hear from her sooner. Even though she’s busy, she cites she’ll still be sure to make time for the two of you to hang out more. You both walk out of the shop together and with a goodbye hug, you both go your separate ways. Her to grab a taxi and you to the train station to head back home.

Chan really thought he was done with big life revelations. His last and biggest was deciding that college and a traditional degree weren’t what he wanted. After that, a bunch of smaller decisions hit him but no combination of realizations, big or small, could’ve prepared him for the fact that he’s still hopelessly in love with the same girl for the last almost fifteen years.

But seeing you again was like someone doused him with a gallon of cold water to the face. Shocking and jarring and nothing could’ve prepared him. Not for the way his eyes almost bugged out of his head upon seeing you again after what felt like far too long or the way his palms got sweaty just being close to you, even though he had just finished a shower before seeing you.

Chan was so sure that he was over you. He’s had plenty of partners over the years. Some serious and some not so much, but he doesn’t think he’s ever compared any of those people to you. It’s been years so surely he isn’t still hung up on his best friend’s older sister.

Unfortunately for him, that is exactly what he is and he’s not sure what to do with this information. A tiny voice in the back of his mind keeps telling him he’s a loser for not being over his childhood crush who has never reciprocated the feelings anyway. Never once have you made any indication that you thought of Chan the same, so it’s not as though you’re going to magically do it now…right?

His mind is so wrapped up in you that he keeps fumbling with the moves he practices at work in preparation for a dance class in a few days. He lets out another frustrated huff as he watches himself in the mirror trip over his feet yet again.

Chan’s close friend and co-choreographer at the studio walks over to the boombox at the side of the room, cutting off the music and staring him down.

“Okay, where’s your head, Chan?” Soonyoung looks at him pointedly. “You’ve been distracted since you get here and keep fucking up.” He waits for an answer, hands on his hips. 

Chan hesitates for a moment, wondering if he wants to repeat his early years - where he would tell anyone who would listen that he was in love with Y/n Chwe. This is different though, this is his friend checking on him so he decides to tell Soonyoung.

“The girl I’ve loved since I was ten is back in town.”

“Okay?”

“And I still love her.”

“And? You’re both adults now so you can do something about it right?”

“And she’s living with me. We’re roommates now.”

“And?” Soonyoung rolls his eyes, still not seeing too much of an issue with this.

“She, uh, she’s Hansol’s sister.”

Soonyoung cocks his head to the side in thought. “Okay…well what’s the problem? Hansol is super chill. Do you think he’ll be mad about it?”

“I don’t know. I know Hansol more than almost anybody, but for some reason, I’m still really stressed about how he’ll react.”

“You could always ask him?” Soonyoung tries, offering Chan a bottle of water from the cooler across the room.

“I don’t know. I mean, even if I do and he’s okay with it, what if I ask her out and she says no? She had never liked me like that when we were young. I was always just her brother’s snot-nosed best friend.”

“I get being worried about that, but you’re grown now. Maybe things can be different?”

“Yeah, but if she turns me down, I don’t want to make things awkward for us all living together. And even if I am in some bizarre universe where she is into me too, I could very well fuck this up and she’ll want nothing to do with me and we’ll break up and it’ll still be awkward and then Hansol could not want to be my friend anymore or want me to move out and then what?” Chan ends his rant with a grunt, sliding against the mirror until he plops onto the hardwood floor. Soonyoung comes over and joins him, sitting cross-legged next to his friend.

“This has really been on your mind huh?”

“Hard for it not to be when she is as beautiful as always and sleeping in the room right next to me now.”

“Well, even though I’ve never been through something like this, my advice? Maybe try to just take it slow. Hang out with her more, test the waters, and see if she reciprocates. If so, then either keep getting closer or ask her out and go from there. What’s the point in constant what-ifs you know? Maybe you’re getting a second chance now that you’re both adults and in good places in your life. And sure you might fuck it up, but you also might not. You’ll never know if you don’t try.” Soonyoung shrugs, taking a gulp of water.

Chan side-eyes his friend, genuinely surprised at his words. 

“Since when did you turn into a relationship expert with actual good advice?”

Soonyoung chokes on his water, coughing loudly to recover. “What do you mean actual good advice?! I give good advice all the time!”

“Tsk, just like that so-called, good advice you gave me that one time we went to the club and you told me I should start a dance battle with that girl that was flirting with me?”

The man looks genuinely offended, hand flying to his chest in surprise. 

“First of all, I was drunk! Second of all, that was a good idea. She said she liked dancers!”

“Yeah, but I think she meant slow, sensual dancing like we had been doing all night before you swooped in with your so-called, good advice.”

“Whatever! Don’t take my advice and pine over this woman for another decade. Just decide so you can stop fucking up this dance!” Soonyoung pushes him over, making him land on his side, but the push is more playful than anything.

While Soonyoung may not have a great track record of steering Chan in the right direction, he mulls it over for the rest of the day after getting back to practicing. He ultimately decides that maybe Soonyoung is right. He won’t do anything weird or out of the ordinary. He’ll just be himself and try to spend more time with you and hopefully be able to show you the real him. The him that’s a mid-twenties career man with a plan and a future, who’s much more mature than from when you used to know him. 

If he’s lucky, he won’t make a fool out of himself and if you’re not into him still, you’ll at least let him down gently. If he’s super lucky, you’ll feel the same way about him and he’ll finally get to call you his.

He’s not going to hold his breath, but he’ll regret it once again if he doesn’t at least try with you, unlike he failed to do when he was young and dumb.

Getting the call three days later from Jinah that you got a job at her agency was the best news you’ve gotten in a very long time. Her boss manages to get you a role in their travel department. You’d be working with the assistants of the models to help get their travel booked, manage their transportation, and help arrange all things travel related. While you don’t have any office experience, your flight attendant experience seems to be enough to get you into the role and you weren’t about to argue with that.

As soon as you start, you consider yourself lucky that you seem to fall into the team you’re on easily. It’s not difficult to get comfortable and find your place which makes getting settled all that much simpler. Plus, the pay is decent, and even a little more than what you previously made, so you can’t complain about that.

Jinah uses the Halloween party she told you about as an excuse to go out with you again and an excuse to celebrate your job. Hansol and Chan had already gotten you a small cake to celebrate which was extremely sweet, so you don’t mind celebrating with Jinah. 

The cake, you learn in passing from Hansol, was Chan’s idea. It’s only one thing on the long list of ways that Chan has succeeded in getting closer to you over the weeks that it takes you to get settled in. You’ve spent time with Chan as a kid when he was around all the time, but you really get the chance to know him now that you’re adults living together.

You learn most, if not all of his likes and dislikes. His favorite colors, favorite foods, movies he likes, and celebrities he can’t stand (his one-sided rivalry with Lee Byunghun is especially funny to you since he also compliments his acting whenever one of his movies is on). He’s constantly making you laugh, always asking how your day was when you see each other in the evenings, and he always says good morning and asks how you slept when you get up for the day. On nights when he has to get dinner for you all, he always asks if there’s any food you're craving because he promises he’ll pick it up or make it (and he always does every time). 

On the weekends, when you’re home relaxing and sleeping in, and if he works, he has started to call home often and ask if you need him to grab anything on the way home, be it medicine, food, a video rental, or anything in between. Chan makes it a habit to check in with you even more than your brother, which Hansol calls out one night over dinner. Chan’s cheeks go red and he throws a wayward shrimp at his best friend but doesn’t deny it, citing that he just wants to help you be comfortable.

If he isn’t checking on you or buying you small things, he’s making sure your laundry is washed if he’s doing his and that your favorite mug (the yellow one with the fried eggs print all over it) is always washed. He makes sure your favorite snacks are in the apartment and that you’re never without anything you need - even finding out your preferred brand of tampons and pads and wordlessly getting them for you.

By the time the end of October rolls around, you’ve been living with Chan and your brother for a month and your feelings for Chan are only growing, much to your utter dismay. You don’t want to like him, for the multitude of reasons you’ve already outlined in your head and to Jinah, but he makes it damn near impossible. If he’s not being the most sweet and polite man you’ve ever been around, he’s walking around the apartment shirtless from time to time or coming back from the gym or work sweaty and flushed with his arms on display.

He constantly treats you like a true gentleman would, carrying groceries for you and doing any heavy lifting around the apartment that comes up. It may be the bare minimum, but Chan treats you better as someone you’re not dating than anyone you actually have dated. You’re in a constant battle between your coochie and your heart about your array of feelings for Lee Chan and it’s only serving to drive you crazier each day. 

On the night of Halloween, when Jinah is in your room with you getting ready for her friend’s party, she teases that Chan may not be able to hold himself back when he sees you.

“I don’t know, Y/n. Your ass does look really good in this jumpsuit.” You admire your figure in your mirror, admiring how the soft yet clingy fabric does, in fact, do your ass justice.

You and Jinah decided to go with a theme for your costumes. She’s going as an angel, complete with a white mini-dress, wings, and a halo. You went with a devil, the red, clingy jumpsuit you wear hugs every part of your body that you’d wanna show off and the zipper in the front is open just enough to accentuate your cleavage. The horns attached to the headband on your head sit comfortably and are the finishing touch.

Yes, you’re not supposed to want Chan to like you because it’ll make it that much harder for you, but you don’t mind the idea of him looking.

“Ready?” You ask when you’re finally done with your makeup, making sure your red lipstick is perfect.

“Yep! Let me call a car for us!” You and Jinah leave your room and she fishes her Nokia from her white bag. 

When you step into the living room, you nearly trip over your feet upon seeing Chan lounging on the couch, flipping through TV channels. You know he and Hansol are also going out tonight to their friend Junhui’s Halloween party, but you hadn’t discussed your costumes. 

His black t-shirt is as tight as your jumpsuit is and displays every muscle and ripple in his arms and chest and you even swear you can make out the faint outline of his abs. The black pants he wears are baggy since he’s dressed as a firefighter, but the fabric stretches over his thighs as he spreads his legs, and the suspenders that keep those pants up stir something feral within you. It takes every ounce of willpower not to go over and mount yourself in his lap right then and there.

Chan notices you both come in and hurries to sit up, making room on the couch for you. He seems to take notice of your costume and you watch as his eyes sweep over you from head to toe, unabashed and almost forgetting (or uncaring) that you can see him checking you out.

“Hey! You, uh, you look amazing.” He blurts, eyes still locked onto you. Jinah clears her voice from next to you and Chan seems to then remember that someone else is in the room. “Er, ah, you both do!” He adds, eyes flickering to your best friend who just snorts.

“Thanks, Chan. Our ride is here though, so I do have to steal her away now.”

“Ah, okay. Sure. I’ll see you later tonight, Y/n. Have fun and you both stay safe, okay?”

You nod, telling him to do the same. You catch sight of your brother as you and Jinah are on your way to the door. His Ghostface robe drags on the carpet as he comes down the hall.

Once you and Jinah slide into the car, and she gives the driver the address, she gives you a look.

“Don’t,” you say, stopping her before she can say what you already know she will.

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?”

“Don’t say it.”

“Don’t say what? That Chan got real-time tunnel vision checking you out in your costume and that he forgot I was even in the room.”

“Yes, that! Don’t say that!”

She shrugs, reaching into her bag and pulling out her compact to check her reflection.

“Okay. I won’t say it. I don’t really need to since you know.”

You did, of course, you did. You could feel the heat in his gaze when he looked at you, but you remind yourself that you can’t do anything more than look. Maybe if you’re lucky, someone at this party can distract you.

Truth be told, when you longed for someone at this party to distract you from Chan, you were only putting it into the universe and just keeping your fingers crossed. You didn’t think you’d actually find someone else to catch your interest. You didn’t anticipate that Jinah’s model friend that owns the large, expertly decorated house would take an interest in you, and yet he did the moment you met him.

“Minhyuk, this is my best friend, Y/n! Y/n, this is Lee Minhyuk. Y/n just moved back to Seoul after traveling for work.”

Minhyuk wastes no time in bowing to you before grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on the top of it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n. Any friend of Jinah is a friend of mine.” The handsome man smiles widely at you, making you swoon on the spot. “Especially a friend as stunning as you.”

One look at this buff, beautiful man with perfect hair, perfect teeth, and a perfect face and you’re not surprised in the slightest that he’s a model. You’re sure he can get any woman that he wants and that his charms work on anyone he flashes a brilliant smile to. You’re annoyed that he’s having the same effect on you the more he talks to you and stays by your side for the first hour of the party. You chalk it up to having been single for so long and on your repressed desire for Chan, but you let Minhyuk flirt with you and drape his arm over your shoulder as he asks you about your flight attendant days.

Jinah stays with you both for a while after introducing you, but when it seems obvious that Minhyuk is making heart eyes at you, she excuses the two of you momentarily, pulling you aside.

“Hey, are you okay?!” She says as best as she can in your ear. The music from the sound system in the next room is quieter in the dining room you’re standing in, but is still turned up to a booming volume.

“Yeah, I’m good!”

“You sure? He’s hitting on you pretty hard. He’s a good guy but say the word and we’re out of here.” You mull your next words and decisions over, ultimately deciding to stay and see where things go with Minhyuk. You had asked the universe for a distraction on your way and here it is so why pass it up?

“I’m sure. If I need you or want out, I’ll tell you.” Jinah gives you another firm look before relenting and going with you back to Minhyuk’s side.

An hour later Minhyuk offers to show you around his house. Jinah stares at you, trying to gauge your reaction. You’re sure this will end up with the two of you somewhere in this house, presumably naked, but you decide that’s exactly what you need.

Minhyuk keeps his arm draped over your shoulders as she gives you a tour of his house, avoiding all of the drunken party goers and horny couples making out as you go. Almost every room in his house has people packed into it. His den, his game room, his second living room, and all four of his guest rooms. The only room that has no one else in it is his bedroom which is where you ultimately end up.

“Your house is very fancy,” you compliment, looking around his bedroom. The bed is bigger than even some of the hotel beds you’ve slept in. The duvet is soft under your palms as you sit on the edge and lean back on your hands. Art hangs on the walls and he has two dressers that you can see. You can’t see into the bathroom across the room, but the tub you catch sight of has to be able to fit at least four people.

“Thank you, I’m glad you like it. How’s the bed?” Minhyuk smirks at you from across the room, leaning against a tall dresser. The scrubs of his doctor costume are standard, save for the fact that the top is sleeveless. He crosses his arms and you see how every muscle flexes and twitches under his tan skin

“Mmm, it’s pretty soft. Your duvet is nice.” You cross and uncross your legs, watching as the model follows your movements with his eyes. 

“Yeah? The sheets are even better.”

“You don’t say?”

“Yeah. They’re real silk. And temperature controlled so they’re the perfect coolness and won’t make you hot.” As he speaks he stalks towards you, tossing aside the surgical mask that has been hanging under his chin since you met him.

“Oh? They sound expensive.”

“They are. And they feel like a cloud. Wanna feel them?” Minhyuk is standing in front of you now, his knee resting against the edge of the bed between your legs, waiting for your next words.

You don’t leave him waiting for long, as you breathe out an “I’d love to,” and he immediately bends forward, hands grabbing your face to pull you into a heated kiss. Your hands reach out to grasp at his arms, nails lightly digging into the firm flesh.

Minhyuk grunts into your mouth, fully climbing onto the bed to hover over your body. One hand stays on your cheek while the other travels down your body, grabbing and squeezing as he settles on your hip. 

His tongue slips into your mouth when you separate your lips to take in a breath. Your bodies move together as you shuffle backward up the bed a little, giving him more room to drape his body over yours and kneel between your legs. He presses his pelvis forward, the movement causing him to brush against you, the clothed tip of his hardening length grazing your crotch.

The sensation makes him groan and pause for a moment, his tongue and body stilling. A jolt of confidence rushes over you, making you shift underneath him and flip him onto his side. You quickly push him all the way onto his back and crawl into his lap.

“Mmm maybe I like this view more than you under me,” he mumbles, admiring the new position. He only gets a moment to take it in before you’re leaning down to kiss him again, your fingers brushing through his dark hair. Minhyuk’s hands move down your back to grip your ass.

Your make out session lasts for a few minutes, your mind finally slipping away from everything else that has been tumbling around in your brain. At some point, Minhyuk pulls away with a gasp and quickly peels his top off, tossing it aside before leaning back and letting you ogle him.

Your mouth drops at the sight of him, all chiseled muscle and rippling abs. You gawk for only a moment before your brain decides to remind you of the way that Chan looks without a shirt. He’s also muscular but in a much softer way. Chan’s abs are lightly defined and his pecs are still visible. You also always find your way back to thinking of that day when he had just gotten out of the shower, of the small happy trail that runs down, down, down to where you can’t see. You wonder how soft that dusting of hair is.

Minhyuk momentarily pushes away your Chan imagery when he reaches up to grab your face to pull you back down to kiss him again. Your hands stretch out to steady yourself, finding purchase on his biceps. The hard muscles twitch under your fingers and you squeeze in return. Immediately, you’re reminded of how soft Chan’s biceps and arms are. 

A week ago the two of you had run into each other in the hallway of the apartment. You were leaving when he was rounding the corner, coming back from the gym. He had a tank top on and when he appeared in front of you, you both jumped, yelping in surprise. You had reached your hands out by instinct, with the intention of doing what you’re not sure, but when you noticed it was Chan at the last minute your hands unfurled from fists and gripped his arms to steady yourself. 

His arms were built, but still so soft and smooth under your hands. That feeling has stayed with you even now as you think about Chan and his arms while another man is kissing your neck.

All of a sudden, you wonder what it would feel like if Chan was the one that was under you and if he was the one whose lips were pressing kisses on your throat instead.

Minhyuk’s fingers walk their way to the front of your jumpsuit and he flicks at the zipper that keeps your outfit secure. Before he has a chance to unzip it, his bedroom door bursts open and a woman stands in the doorway, yelling his name angrily.

The intrusion makes you jump, jerking too far back and toppling backward onto the floor.

“Shit, Y/n! You okay?!” Minhyuk jumps up and offers you his hand, being nice enough to at least check on you.

“Minhyuk, what the fuck?!” The woman screeches again, stomping over to him and shoving his chest. “I’ve been walking around this stupid party looking for you for like half an hour! You invited me tonight just to run off and fuck someone else?!” 

“Hyoseong, I’m sorry, I-” Hyoseong cuts him off by shoving him backward, making him lose his balance and fall back onto the bed. He’s too close to the corner of the bed though, because he keeps going and falls back off the side, yelping the whole time.

Hyoseong smirks, satisfied as she watches him before turning her gaze to you still standing there awkwardly. The flame in her eyes diminishes and is replaced with concern. 

“He’s not worth it, I promise. All he knows how to do is fuck every girl he looks at and lead you on!” She screams that last part at him before turning and storming back out of the room. 

Embarrassment is written all over Minhyuk’s face as he scrambles up and gives you a sheepish smile. He opens his mouth to say something, but you speak first.

“Don’t even try it.” You stick your palm out at him, stopping him from responding.

He listens, not saying anything as you leave the room and beeline back downstairs in search of Jinah. You find her in the kitchen talking to a few other girls and when she sees you, she immediately rushes over to you, worry written all over her face. You reassure her that you’re okay and tell her about Hyoseong and she gasps.

“Fuck, I thought they broke up! Ugh, Y/n, I’m so sorry. I’ll go kick his ass right now!” She looks over your shoulder for him, but you stop her. This is clearly a story you’ll have to ask her about on another day. Right now, all you want to do is go home, shower, and flop into bed.

She doesn’t let you convince her to stay and have fun and is already calling a car for you both. You ride together and you tell her what was going through your head when you were hooking up with Minhyuk and she just nods, letting you pour out your garbled thoughts.

Of course, her response is to act on these feelings, but you quickly shut that down, reminding her of the list of reasons that you cannot act on said feelings. As she’s gotten accustomed to doing, she rolls her eyes and tells you that you’re thinking too much into this.

The conversation dies when you pull up at home, thanking her for the ride and hurrying out before she can keep bringing it up.

Chan is fucked. That’s all he thinks when he and Hansol get to Junhui’s party. Ever since you left, all that his brain plays on a loop is you in that red jumpsuit. It is long sleeved and the bottom of the pants are flared, but the fabric hugs you in every way imaginable. The only things he wanted to look at was the curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts, and the way it framed your ass as you left. 

He knows that the image of you in that costume is all he’ll think about for not only the rest of the night but quite possibly for the rest of his life. He did his very best not to make it obvious he was checking you out, but in his defense, he swears he also saw your eyes stay too long on his chest and his thighs. 

As the month has ticked by living with you, Chan has only fallen for you even more than he thought was possible. Everything you do and say makes his heart race. Every time he sees you, he wants to hold and kiss you, no matter what time of day it is. You look just as beautiful waking up as you do going to sleep. 

He’s whipped and he hasn’t even told you that he’s still in love with you.

He knows he only has eyes for you because he spends the first hour of the party talking with his friends and sipping on a drink, but he still keeps going back to you in his mind. He knows he is especially hopeless when a cute girl approaches him and asks him to dance. He forgets her name as soon as she says it (Yerim maybe?) and even though she looks incredibly sexy in her little black dress and cat ears, the only thing Chan can see is you when he closes his eyes.

Even when she drags him to the living room to dance and presses her body close to his, he wishes it was you that was rubbing your ass against his crotch. Chan wonders what you’re doing right now and if you’re dancing with someone else just like this. He beats himself up at the thought, chiding himself for not asking you to come to this party instead or even to stop by after the one you’re at now. Even though Jinah asked you to her friend’s party first, he still should’ve brought it up, but he was too nervous you’d turn him down. He hates the idea of you looking that stunning and having other people look at you or touch you. He wants you so bad, in any way you’ll have him, and he doesn’t care how pathetic that sounds.

The cat girl seems to take notice that Chan is distracted as his arms lay limp on her hips. She turns around, draping her arms around his neck and pressing her tits against his chest. Her wide brown eyes blink up at him and her black painted lips curl up in a smile. She’s really cute, Chan can admit - like really cute - but she’s also not you. Before he can think anymore, she’s on her tiptoes, placing a kiss on his lips. 

Any other time, he doesn’t think he’d turn down a cute girl that is so obviously into him and he certainly wouldn’t turn away from a kiss, but this time is different. This time, Chan only thinks of you and wishes this was you. That’s why he doesn’t make much effort to kiss her back. Not a single spark pops between him and the cat girl. She quickly gets tired of his lack of enthusiasm, soon pulling away and turning in a huff to leave him standing in the middle of the living room. 

Chan watches her go, his eyes looking around the room and it hits him how much he doesn’t actually want to be here. He’d much rather be back at home, sitting on the couch with you watching late night sitcoms like the two of you have fallen into the habit of doing. 

He’s only at the party for a couple of hours, before he finds Hansol in the kitchen, letting him know that he doesn’t feel very party-like anymore and decides to go home. Hansol is right in the middle of racing with their friend Seokmin, trying to shotgun a beer faster than him, but when he wins, he gives Chan his attention.

“Are you sure? You want me to go with you?”

“Nah, I’m good. Stay. I’m just gonna shower and probably chill.”

“Alright, dude. Can you just keep an eye out for Y/n when you get back?”

Hansol doesn’t have to ask twice. Even if he hadn’t asked once, Chan would’ve looked out for you anyway. It’s why after he’s showered and gotten a snack, he goes to the couch instead of his bed. He assumes you won’t be home until it’s late, but if he’s lucky he’ll catch a glimpse of you before you go to bed and will make sure you’re safe.

He’ll also get one more look at your costume which isn’t as important as making sure you’re safe, but it’s absolutely something he’s looking forward to.

When you get home, you’re surprised to see that the TV in the living room is on. When you round the corner you see Chan sitting on the couch, under a blanket with popcorn in hand and eyes wide in surprise at seeing you.

“Hey, Y/n! You’re home early.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t really feeling like being at a party anymore. Too people-y. I’m surprised you’re here though.”

Chan shrugs, “I guess I wasn’t feeling like being at a party either.”

You hum, glancing at the space on the couch he makes for you. “I’m gonna shower and put on my pajamas. Mind if I hang out here with you when I’m done? I’m not that tired yet.”

“Yeah! I mean, uh, yeah of course you can.” He clears his throat, eyes still flickering between you and the TV.

“Great. I’ll be quick and then we can watch a movie?” Chan nods and shamelessly watches you go when you hurry down the hall and into the bathroom. 

You remove your makeup and shower faster than you think you ever have, eager to spend the evening with Chan.

Once your most comfortable pajamas are on, you join him, plopping next to him on the couch. 

“So, what’re we watching?”

“Scream?”

“Oh, yes! Both of them?”

“Sure.” 

Chan starts the movie already in the VCR and passes you the bowl in his hands which you eagerly accept. As the movie goes on, you both start on your respective sides of the couch. It isn’t until you’re halfway through the first movie that you have half a mind to notice that your leg brushes against Chan’s each time you adjust. At first, you jump at the contact, and he seems to as well, both of you shifting away embarrassedly.

That only lasts for a small amount of time though, because by the end of the movie, you’re both close again and the bowl of popcorn you’ve been sharing is empty. After Chan gets up and puts in the second movie, he comes back to the couch and sits down, this time close enough that your thighs touch and neither of you moves.

You continue to stay close to one another as you watch the movie and eventually, you’re so close that you’re practically cuddling. You’re not, but you may as well. Seeing how at some point, you end up falling asleep with your head on Chan’s shoulder and his arm draped around your waist.

You only know this to be the case when you’re woken up sometime later, Hansol’s voice rousing you out of your sleep. When you open your eyes, the first thing you see is Ghostface staring down at you, causing you to scream, jolting into Chan’s lap and making the man jolt awake too. His eyes meet Ghostface standing in front of you both, also making him shriek and grasp onto you for protection.

Hansol lets out a chuckle, and lifts the mask, taking in the terror written on his roommates’ faces. 

“It’s just me.”

“Jesus, Sol! You could’ve taken the damn mask off before you scared the shit out of us.”

You toss a pillow at him, hitting him in the gut, but he doesn't flinch. 

“Nah this was more fun.” He dodges the second pillow that Chan tries to smack him with and says goodnight to you both as he sprints down the hall.

Once he’s gone, you both realize that you’re still partially in Chan’s lap and he still has an arm around you. You sit up quickly, sharing an awkward laugh with him as you get up, announcing that you’ll start to clean up. Chan helps and you tidy up the living room and cut the TV off, refolding the blanket you shared and saying goodnight before you go your separate ways to your rooms. 

Your words are awkward, but neither of you can get over how warm and right it felt being so close. You tell yourself to forget it as you get into bed, reminding yourself that you can’t do that again.

Meanwhile, Chan can’t help but wonder if you’re thinking about him too, just like he’s thinking about you and the way you smell and how much he wants to hold you like that again one day.

He’s not sure if that’ll be a reality for him, but he can only hope so.

November is halfway over when you think that maybe you can finally, fully and unabashedly admit that you like Lee Chan. After Halloween night when you fell asleep together, you’ve only been spending more time with him and getting to know more about him. The problem is, the more you get to know Chan, the more you’re unable to ignore the rapidly growing crush on him.

You want to date him and have sex with him and kiss him. You want to hold his hand when you're grocery shopping or if you’re both in the same room. You want to hug him when you’re sitting next to each other on the couch or on the floor. You want to sleep in the same bed with him, cuddle against his chest, and wake up next to him the following morning.

You admit this to Jinah one day over lunch and she isn’t the least bit surprised. She’s stopped being so enthusiastic about you admitting your feelings for and to Chan, but you already know that’s what she wants to tell you to do whenever you talk about him or she sees you looking at him if you’re all in the same room.

It gets worse when you and Chan spend a day together decorating the apartment for Christmas. He helps you get the tree - a small plastic, realistic looking one since none of you want to deal with the work of a real one - decorate it, and hang up other decorations around the apartment. It all feels so incredibly domestic, similar to all of the cheesy rom coms you’ve had to watch on long flights around this time of year. Of course Hansol is there helping too, but he doesn’t seem to get in between the two of you when you stand too close or reach for the same ornaments. 

Well, it’s more likely that he literally doesn’t even notice, but it’s still very cozy and special nonetheless. 

Either way, Chan only continues to prove himself as the sweetest, most caring man you’ve ever been around and it’s only serving to stoke the fire that is your feelings for him. It was getting harder and harder to separate those feelings until you simply can’t deny them anymore. 

You’re not alone in this want and desire. Every day that Chan has to see you and spend time with you, he only falls for you more. He thought his feelings were rough to grapple with when he was a kid, but this is different. Now that he’s spent so much time with you as adults, getting to know any and everything about you, it only cements his love for you into his heart.

This only makes things harder for him. He’s been trying to take Soonyoung’s advice and show more of the true him to you and he can’t tell if it’s working or not. You seem to enjoy being around him and he knows that at times he’s seen your eyes stray over his body. It’s not enough to make him brave enough to make any moves yet, but he thinks about it constantly. What if he’s reading the signals wrong? What if you’re just really nice and a good roommate and you don’t feel anything remotely romantic for him?

It’s that doubt and fear that has him keeping his mouth shut. Instead, he just constantly thinks about every part of you that he likes (which is everything, to be honest). He thinks about how pretty you are and how soft your skin is. He’s been lucky enough to accidentally knock into you or brush arms or thighs on occasion and every time he feels electricity throughout his body. He constantly thinks about how good you smell and how he can rank a list of all of his favorite outfits that you own. He thinks about your smile and your laugh and the way your expressions change when you experience different emotions.

Lee Chan is in love with you. Always has been and at this rate, probably always will be. He wants to be with you in every way possible. You’re always on his mind, but when he’s in bed, with only a single wall separating you both, he can’t help but think of other things that he likes about you.

Like how pretty your lips are when he sees you wrap them around a bottle or lick stray food from your fingers. Or how tempting your legs look when the heat in the apartment is a little too warm and you wear small sleep shorts. Or even the sound of your voice when you talk to him. He can imagine so easily how soft and breathy your voice could sound while you say his name if he was between your legs in either your bed or his.

Chan thinks about all of these things so much more when he wraps his hand around his aching cock and jerks off, wishing that it was your hand, or mouth, or pussy around him instead. He thinks about how much he’d love to watch you fall apart for him and only him. 

When he cums all over himself with a whisper of your name on his lips, he starts to feel a little guilty for thinking of you like this but reminds himself that it’s just fantasies and he’s not acting on anything.

Little does he know that you want him to act on all of those things and more. He’s on your mind most nights too and you can’t help but slip your fingers between your legs. You think about his laugh and his wonderful smile and how high pitched his moans probably are and how stunning you know he’d look under you while you ride him. When your fingers are buried inside of yourself knuckle deep, you want so badly for it to be him and his fingers or his cock. 

You have similar conflicting feelings after you fall apart, biting down on your lip to stop from crying his name. Guilt washes over you after the orgasm haze lifts and you scold yourself for thinking of him like this when you specifically tell yourself not to. That lasts for a bit until you remind yourself that it’s not like you can act on any of these fantasies so they’re better off as just that.

It's Thursday when snow starts to fall and cover the city of Seoul. You don’t mind too much. You can’t remember the last time you were in a place where you’d have the potential of a snowy Christmas, so you weren’t complaining too much.

Saturday is when the snow stops and sits on the ground like a fresh blanket. Your original plan is to lounge around the apartment and enjoy a day of nothing, the book you’ve been meaning to finish in hand when the phone rings. Your plans are rerouted when Hansol announces that you’re all going ice skating. Seungkwan and his partner want to go to the new outdoor skating rink that recently opened, but they want to invite all of you. You’re prepared to turn down the invitation because you’re cozy and you don’t even know how to skate, until Chan, who’s on the couch next to you playing his Game Boy, looks up and nods. He gives you a sidelong glance to see what your answer will be. The excited look on his face is enough for you to agree.

Half an hour later the three of you are in Hansol’s car and driving to the rink. Seungkwan and his partner are there when you arrive along with their other friend Seokmin who you recognize a little but from high school. Everyone eagerly lines up at the booth to get their rental skates and you lag behind. Chan notices and moves to stand next to you, asking if you’re okay.

“I’m fine I just, I don’t actually know how to skate.”

“Wait, really? Why didn’t you mention that earlier?”

You shrug, taking a step as the line moves. “I don’t know. Everyone seemed excited to come so I didn’t wanna ruin it.” That’s partially true. You also just wanted to spend time with him, but you keep that to yourself.

“Well don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

“Ah, you don’t have to-” 

“Nope. I wasn’t asking! I’m telling you that I’ll help.” He gives you a wide smile that makes you melt just as fast as the snow piled under your feet.

When it’s finally your turn for your skates, you ask for your size and Chan insists on paying for your rental with his, ignoring how many times you object. He leads you both to a bench on the side of the rink and helps you lace up your skates. Once they’re on and secure, you adjust your scarf and gloves and wait for him to finish putting his on.

Chan stands first and offers you his gloved hand which you take without much thought. Slowly, he leads you to the entrance of the rink, letting you slowly step out as he skates backward. As soon as your foot makes contact with the ice you almost feel your balance give out, but Chan keeps a strong grip on your hands, helping keep you upright.

“I won’t let you fall. Promise.” He smiles at you again, this time soft and warm and the gesture feels like a comforting hug. 

You and Chan do an entire lap around the rink, albeit slowly, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Hansol has already passed you both numerous times, as has Seungkwan, but Chan doesn’t pay them any mind. All of his attention is locked on you and only you.

You manage to do a few more laps, your legs feeling more confident each time. Chan keeps skating backwards with his hands on you, the two of you falling into conversation and laughing the more comfortable you get with him ferrying you around the ice.

Things are going well. Your time with him feels so incredibly right. He seems to be enjoying it too because at some point he shortens the gap between both of you and moves his hands from around yours to your forearms, your biceps, and eventually, his hands are around your waist and yours are draped over his shoulder. The closeness is not exactly normal for two roommates who  are not romantically involved, but neither of you moves away.

Your cheeks, nose, and lips are so cold that eventually, you’re ready to call for a break, but then you notice how close Chan is and how red his lips are. He looks cold too and you wonder what will happen if you lean forward and close the already lessening gap. 

Chan’s eyes flicker up from your feet to your eyes, and then your lips. You hold your breath in that moment and look between his lips and his eyes. Something between the two of you stirs and you swear you see him inching his face closer and closer. 

Before you can finally kiss Chan like you’ve been daydreaming about for the past 2 and a half months, you shift on your left foot which proves to be a horrible idea. You’re falling backward faster than you and Chan can register. You attempt to put your hands back to break your fall which helps because you don’t fall on your ass but you do land on your left wrist with more force than you thought. A sharp, shooting pain runs from your wrist to your elbow making you yelp in pain.

“Y/n!” Chan drops to his knees to check on you and Hansol is at your side in seconds. 

“I’m okay, I think I fucked up my wrist though.” They both help you up, each man on either side of you to get you off of the ice. They sit you on a bench and Chan takes off your skates, then his before sprinting to the bench you both started at that still has your boots.

The rest of your group joins you to check in and you notice a few other skaters looking in your direction. In between the pain in your wrist, you feel utter mortification at all of the attention and the way that you busted your ass in front of everyone. Especially given the fact that you swear that you were so close to kissing Chan.

When he comes back with your boots, Chan helps you stand up and announces that he and Hansol will take you to the hospital. You try to object, but they don't want to hear it.

So, you end your day sitting in the hospital getting a wrist brace put on. The doctor says it’s only a mild sprain and all you need to do is wear your brace and use your wrist as little as possible for at least two weeks and you should be just fine. 

Even though Chan is in the room when the words “mild sprain” leave the doctor’s mouth, he still treats you as if you have two broken legs and a concussion. He insists on helping you out of the hospital and car and into the apartment. When you sit on the couch he makes sure to prop the throw pillows up under your arm to keep your wrist elevated. 

“Chan, my arm won’t fall off.”

“I know, but the doctor recommended keeping it elevated, remember? Now are you hungry? I think we have some leftovers, or if you want me to go out and grab something I can.” He stares at you concerned, waiting for your next order.

Shaking your head you slide over on the couch and gesture to the cushion. “Chan, I promise I’m fine. All I need is for you to sit down and just relax. I ruined skating so try and enjoy the rest of your Saturday.”

“Hey, you didn’t ruin anything! It was an accident. I’m just happy you’re okay.” Chan’s hand lifts and hovers over your good hand sitting on the cushion between the two of you. It’s only for a second because he seems to rather quickly decide against it, letting his hand land in his lap.

He doesn’t think you notice, but you do and it stings, just a little. 

Despite the awkwardness that lingers now and again between you and Chan over the next week, he still insists on taking care of you. He ignores your protests for the first two days, so you end up just giving in. You let him do any simple lifting around the apartment, even going as far as to carry your food for you at mealtimes. He’s already been doing a lot of small favors and nice things for you, but he does it even more as your wrist heals. It’s both overwhelming and the most flattering thing anyone has ever done for you.

It’s not helping your emotional battle with your feelings for him in the slightest, but you’re ready to give up and accept it. You’re not sure if he feels the same or not. He was the first to initiate what you truly thought was about to be a kiss at the skating rink, but since that failed spectacularly, you feel like he’s also pulling away a little bit. To you, your relationship has only deepened since you moved in and you two were becoming closer and closer. Now though, even though he practically waits on you hand and foot, he still does it in the most platonic way possible, if that’s even possible. So, feelings you harbor for him aside, you’re stuck holding them to yourself in a vice grip.

Working with your wrist sprained is annoying, to say the least. Your role involves computer and phone usage which isn’t impossible, it just makes you a little slower at doing your day to day since everything has to be done with one hand.

When you hit the middle of your second week in the brace, you feel like your wrist will heal closer to the two weeks. That means that if you’re lucky, you only have three days left to suffer in the brace. You wonder if that means things between you and Chan will continue to change even further, but do your best to fight the spiral you’re about to go on. You’re just happy work is done for the day and you can relax.

“Sol!” When you walk into the apartment it’s the first thing you yell out, waiting for your brother to answer.

“Yeah?”

“Did I get a package today?!” Your very first set of business cards that your boss ordered for you a few weeks ago were supposed to arrive today. Hansol stayed home due to a stomach bug, so he was responsible for getting the mail. It wasn’t anything particularly fun, but you were still excited for your own business cards nonetheless.

“That depends; did you pick up the medicine I asked you to get?” He calls back. You roll your eyes as you kick your shoes off and gently remove your crossbody bag. 

“And what if I said I didn’t? What’re you gonna do? Hold my package for ransom in your room?”

“Maybe. Or I hid it somewhere in the apartment and now you have to play hide and seek for it.” He chuckles.

“Hansol Vernon Chwe, if you don’t give me my mail, I will literally take your Game Boy and shove it up my - oh.” Your threat to Hansol vanishes the second you turn the corner into the living room and see a man on your couch that you don’t know. A handsome man at that. 

A very handsome man.

“What was that?” Your brother teases you, seeing the way you blink back wordlessly at his friend.

“Nothing, shut up. Here’s your medicine, nerd.” You snap out of it and toss the paper bag at your brother on the couch. 

“Thanks. Your package is in your room on your desk.” 

“Thanks,” you nod, your eyes shifting back to the man on the couch who’s just been smiling politely at you since you entered, chuckling at your sibling spat.

“This is Joshua, by the way.” Hansol finally says, gesturing to the man next to him. “Josh, this is my sister I told you about.”

“Yeah, I remember her. Hey, Y/n,” Joshua waves at you, his smile lowering but you still notice the way the corners of his lips quirk.

“You remember me?” You ask as you try and wrack your brain for any Joshuas from your past. “Oh! Joshua Hong?!” The minute you remember him, you’re even more shocked at how good looking he is. The once lanky, awkward looking transfer student that your brother befriended in his first year of high school even though Joshua is older than him, is now so much different. He’s filled out more, the t-shirt he’s wearing hugging his torso in the most distracting way possible. His jaw is defined, his hair longer and a soft shade of reddish-brown. He looks like a completely different person in your eyes.

What the fuck is going on with all of your brother’s friends? Why were they all suddenly so goddamn hot?!

“That’s me. It’s been a while, huh?”

“I mean yeah, try almost a decade?” You sit on the couch on the other side of Hansol to catch up. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, nothing much. I’m finishing my last year of school. I’m getting my bachelor of medicine right now.”

“You’re going to be a doctor?!” You’re surprised, to say the least. From your memory, you can’t remember Joshua being interested in the medical field, but at the same time, you didn’t really know Joshua well enough to recall too much about him.

He lets out a sheepish laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. I’ll be doing pediatrics. I didn’t anticipate that I’d get into pediatric medicine initially, it’s just what I fell into and I love it.” God, he’s incredibly fine and he’s going to be a doctor? You’ve completely forgotten what you were planning on doing when you get home. 

The front door opens then, Chan arriving home from work too. When he comes into the living room he freezes, surprised at the third person on the couch.

“Shua hyung?” 

“Hey, Chan!” 

“What’re you doing here?”

“Ah, my apartment building is being exterminated and I need to be out for two days and Hansol  is gracious enough to let me crash on your couch till it’s done.”

Chan nods, not minding too much until his eyes flicker to you. He immediately notices the way you look at Joshua. He looks at you enough to know most of your facial expressions and the way your eyes inspect Joshua makes it clear you’re looking at him in the complete opposite of a platonic way.

Chan feels something unpleasant stirring in the pit of his stomach that he can’t shake.

It turns out Joshua is much more than just a doctor-to-be with a pretty face the more you talk with him. It should’ve been a little more awkward getting to know him, but it really wasn’t. You have a lot in common and he’s incredibly interesting and charming. He’s easier to get along with than you had anticipated. The two of you end up spending time together while he’s staying over and he also insists on helping you when he can even though, as you remind all of the men in the house, it’s just a minor wrist sprain.

You are lucky that he’s studying medicine because he inspects your wrist while he’s staying with you and reaffirms what the doctor at the hospital said. It’s not that serious and you should be free by the end of the week. Joshua’s hands are so much bigger than yours and they’re so very warm. The way he cradles your injured wrist is delicate and he handles you like the smallest flower. His sweet gestures make you feel warm all over anytime he says something kind to you or helps you.

He’s only on your couch for two days, but it’s long enough that you’re drawn to him. It helps that he is probably one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever seen, but his personality makes him almost too good to be true. Or you’re just incredibly desperate for someone to give you attention since it seems like Chan has taken a step back from being your nurse or growing closer to you. It hurts a bit, but having Joshua around feels nice and makes you feel a little more cared for.

When it’s the day that Joshua is supposed to be leaving, you both get back from work at the same time. You chat with him while he puts the pillowcase and blanket he used in the laundry and goes into the bathroom to make sure he’s packed all of his toiletries. 

As you walk him to the door he thanks you again for letting him stay. Before he leaves though, he stops and takes a few seconds before turning back to you, surprising you.

“Hey, Y/n, I know this will seem completely out of nowhere, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but would you let me take you out sometime?”

You blink back at him, mouth opening into a surprised ‘o.’ 

“No pressure of course! And I won’t be upset if you say no. You’ve only really been getting to know me for two days, so I wouldn’t blame you at all if it’s a no.”

Even though Joshua seems like an absolute gentleman and has been nothing but nice to you, you still can’t help but pause. Your track record with dating has historically not been very good. Hell, even your last attempt at a hookup failed miserably. Plus, Joshua is another one of your brother’s friends. He’s only a couple of years younger than you, and sure, he doesn’t live with you, but you’d hate to be the reason that any of Hansol’s friendships get ruined.

“Joshua, you’re really sweet, but I’m Hansol’s older sister. I don’t know how he’d feel about that.”

“Okay, that’s a very fair hesitation, but if it helps, I asked Hansol this morning if I could ask you out and he said, and I quote, ‘Sure, whatever. Just make sure you don’t hurt her or I’ll tell Seungcheol.’” Joshua laughs, shrugging at you. You recognize that name as being Hansol’s oldest friend. You didn’t talk much when you were in school, but you remember him being mildly popular and feared by many. 

You return his laugh and can’t help but wonder if Hansol would feel the same if you and Chan dated.

Shaking your head, you brush the thought away. One date can’t hurt - it’s not like Joshua is asking you to be his girlfriend. You and Chan are still in an odd place right now anyway. You’re not really sure how to gauge him right now, and he isn’t making any moves to change that. Sure you don’t know Joshua very well but that’s what dates are for right? 

“Okay,” you finally say. “But after I get this stupid brace off. I will see my doctor tomorrow afternoon and I should get an all clear.”

The smile Joshua gives you is lethal and makes your palms sweaty. “Of course. After you take your brace off. I’d want you to be feeling completely better so you can enjoy yourself.” His words make your face heat up, suddenly feeling shy. “What do you say I pick you up tomorrow at six?”

“Sure, that works for me.”

“It’s a date then,” Joshua offers you one more look before he’s out the door and on his way.

Once he’s gone, you bring your hands to your cheeks, cursing yourself for getting so flustered around a guy you barely know, no matter how perfect he looks. To get your mind off of Joshua, you shower and get ready for the evening before deciding you’ll order a pizza and call Jinah to tell her about your date tomorrow.

“So how’s it going with Y/n?” Soonyoung asks Chan as they clean up and prepare to lock up the dance studio at the end of the day.

“It’s…going I guess.” 

“I assume this means it’s going absolutely nowhere?” Chan narrows his eyes at Soonyoung, ignoring the way his friend laughs at him.

“It was going somewhere. And then I made her break her wrist and now everything is weird.”

“Oh yeah I remember you said that, but you also said that she was about to reciprocate when you almost kissed, was she not?” 

“I mean, yeah I think so, but she’s also been flirting with Joshua since he got here and he’s definitely been flirting back. What if I’m wrong and she wasn’t actually going to kiss me back?”

Soonyoung lets out a sigh behind Chan, watching as his younger friend visibly agonizes over his thoughts and self-doubt. 

“Chan, listen, I’m going to be honest with you okay?”

“Why am I worried…”

“Because I’m about to tell you the truth!” Soonyoung waits for Chan to lock the studio door and turns to look at him. “You need to decide what you want to do. Either you’ll keep doing this weird will-they-won’t-they with her and not tell her how you feel and probably stress over her for the rest of your life or you tell her and see what happens. I know you’re worried about what she’ll say or how she’ll react, but is that better or worse than letting this eat you up forever?”

Chan scoffs, both options are terrible and he hates them equally, but at the same time, he really has to decide. Either option makes him uncomfortable and unhappy, but Soonyoung has a point, he’s just not sure which is the lesser of the two evils.

“I don’t know…”

“Well, I think you should think about it again and figure it out. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with flirting unless she actually becomes his girlfriend or something, right?”

Chan mumbles something that even he finds unintelligible, but Soonyoung doesn’t press him to repeat himself. They walk the short distance to the parking lot on the side of the studio and bid each other goodbye, Soonyoung wishing him luck again.

Chan spends the entire drive home in silence, weighing the pros and cons of telling you how he feels versus not telling you. He’s had this internal battle with himself since you moved in and it’s always the same in each category. 

You may hate him. He’ll make living with you awkward. He’ll fuck up his friendship with Hansol.

All the same negative scenarios play on repeat. The only pro (and the biggest, to be clear), would be that you feel the same for him or you’ll at least want to give him a chance. For Chan, it comes down to how much of a risk he wants to take here.

He’s not much of a risk taker usually, but he also can’t help but tell himself that you’re more than worth the risk. If he can get over his fear of the cons that is.

Chan is still deep in thought when he gets home. When he walks into the apartment, he can hear you talking in your room. The dock for the cordless phone sits empty on the side table next to the couch which tells him you’re using it. 

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, truly he doesn’t, but as he’s walking down the hall to his room, he overhears you mention Joshua’s name and the word ‘date.’ Chan freezes in his tracks, his heart beating rapidly at the implication. He knows he should go into his room and wait until you’re done to ask what the plan for dinner is. 

Instead, he tiptoes to your room, the door ajar enough for him to listen without being seen.

“I’m not sure where he’s taking me. He didn’t say and I didn’t ask. I want to be surprised.” You chuckle and there’s a beat of silence as the person, who Chan assumes is Jinah, speaks. “I’m telling you, he looks so different now. Like, fuck I can’t even describe how good looking he is! And hello, he’s going to be a doctor!” More silence. “I mean, let’s not get crazy. We’re not eloping or anything, it’s just one date.” You stop talking before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

Chan takes this as his sign to slink away, trudging to his bedroom to wallow. He tries to remind himself that you don’t even know how he feels, he’s never even told you about his feelings, so what right does he have to be upset about this?

Absolutely none, logically speaking. That doesn’t make the twinge of pain in his chest feel any more bearable.

It’s ten minutes to six when you’re putting the finishing touches on your hair and fastening your jewelry. You called Joshua earlier in the day to let him know that your doctor gave you the okay to take off your brace and that your wrist is feeling much better. You also asked if you should wear anything special for tonight. He advised that you didn’t need anything fancy, just whatever makes you feel good and some comfortable shoes. To be safe, you were going with thermal leggings and a nice sweater to stay warm and comfy.

With your bag and boots in hand, you leave your room and head down the hallway, intending to wait in the living room. The apartment is quiet with Hansol out for the night and Chan presumably in his room. You haven’t seen him much since he got home from work last night. He took his pizza into his room to eat it and you only saw him briefly this morning when he was coming back from the gym. You want to ask him if he’s okay, but you can’t seem to get a moment with him to do so. 

As you reach the end of the hallway, Chan rounds the corner suddenly and you both let out a yelp, running into each other.

“Shit, sorry!” Chan steadies you when your shoes and bag fall out of your hand along with the book that had been in his. He quickly bends down to pick up your things and gingerly hands them over to you.

“Thanks,” you smile at him, forcing your eyes up to his face and not down to the black tank top that hugs his torso.

“Of course,” Chan smiles back, neither of you moving. He’s blocking the entryway into the living room, you tell yourself, so he has to move first.

He doesn’t and instead looks above your head, chuckling nervously. 

“Huh?” You look up and catch sight of the mistletoe hanging above your heads. Who the fuck even put that there?

The two of you look from the mistletoe to each other, and then back up again. 

“You don’t have to,” Chan starts, his neck turning a deep shade of red.

“I - I mean you neither, if you don’t want to. But if you do, since you know it’s tradition or whatever, we can. Only if you want!” You’re stammering at this point, hand gripping the strap of your bag so hard your knuckles hurt. 

Your mind goes back to the ice skating rink and the moment the two of you shared. Chan’s reaction now might just reaffirm your thoughts from that day, but you try not to get too emotionally attached as you wait for his next words.

He doesn’t say anything, and instead, he answers with his movements. He looks into your eyes, so intensely you feel yourself squirm under his gaze. He starts to lean forward then, his face coming closer and closer to yours. 

There’s your answer.

Nothing comes from the moment though, when the doorbell rings, making both you and Chan spring apart with wide eyes. Clearing your throat, you apologize to Chan as you shuffle past him and into the living room. 

“One minute!” You call out to the door, assuming it’s Joshua. You fish your compact out of your bag to give yourself one more once over before you rush to the door and sure enough, you see Joshua through the peephole.

“Hi. You look beautiful,” are the first words out of his mouth when he sees you, eyes sweeping over your frame appreciatively.

“Thank you. You look very handsome. And are those for me?” You gesture to the large bouquet in his hands and accept it when he holds it out to you.

“Thank you. And yes they are. I couldn’t just show up empty handed.” You thank him again and step back into the apartment to find somewhere to put your flowers. Chan is gone when you enter the living room again and you don’t see him as you find a vase in the kitchen and fill it with water, placing the bouquet in them before joining Joshua again and leaving with him.

Your date with Joshua is as normal as a date can get, but you don’t mind one bit. As he drives you to your destination, you fall into easy conversation as you ask him about his job. Right now, he’s working at his friend’s office until he’s done with school. Since he’s still getting his degree, he can’t legally do much medical wise, but he does volunteer at the hospital when he can to visit the kids and keep them company between surgeries and procedures. 

He tells you stories from the hospital and you can tell just in the way he talks about the patients he’s spent time with that it’s something he really enjoys and is looking forward to doing full time. It’s admirable to see someone so in love with what they do and recall it in such a positive way. You know that when you recount stories from your time in the air and in different countries, it’s always with bittersweet words. There was so much you loved about being a flight attendant and so much you disliked, but Joshua talks about medicine with nothing but love. 

Similar to how Chan speaks about dancing. 

You push that thought away as soon as it conjures in your brain, refocusing back on your date.

Joshua takes you to a fancy looking Japanese restaurant and does everything right that you would expect. He makes sure to open your car door for you and the door of the restaurant. He pulls out your chair and tells you to order whatever you want, making it clear that he’ll be paying and brushing you off when you try to convince him to split the bill. 

“Okay, Doctor Hong, you win. You’re more stubborn than me,” you joke after you both order.

He laughs, shrugging and making eye contact with you. “I asked you out, so I’ll pay. Simple as that. Maybe next time you can arrange the next date and you can pay.” 

The idea of another date with Joshua hadn’t even crossed your mind. You’re comfortable with him and are enjoying talking with him and getting to know him more, but you feel like there’s something missing that you can’t quite put your finger on. 

That feeling persists during dinner, even through the shared laughter and the jokes and it sticks when you’re back in the car after dessert. It lingers as you chat on the way to the second, secret destination he has on the itinerary.

When Joshua eventually parks on the curb of a neighborhood you don’t recognize, you see a bunch of other cars parked and can see bright lights in the distance.

“Where exactly are we?” You try to read street signs around but don’t recognize them. Joshua offers his hand as he opens your door and you hesitantly take it, letting him escort you out. He doesn’t let your hand go as you walk down the sidewalk and get closer to all of the lights.

“I know you’re really into Christmas and decorations so I wanted to take you here,” As you walk closer to the lights, you finally start to notice that they’re Christmas decorations. It’s a whole street of houses adorned with bright lights and flashy decorations. “There aren’t too many people who go all out with the decorations here, but I happened upon this street when I got lost once and they do this every year. It reminds me of the way people back home in L.A. decorate their houses for the holidays.”

You nod, eyes taking in a house with sparking blue and white lights wrapped around every inch of their house. “Yeah, whenever we had layovers or rest periods in the U.S. for the holidays it was nice to see all the decorations out there. It’s why I made Hansol and Chan decorate the apartment. It makes the holidays feel more fun for me.” You laugh, sticking the hand not in Joshua’s in your coat pocket. “I don’t know, maybe that’s silly.”

“It’s not,” he insists, squeezing your hand. “I think it’s very cute and sweet.” Looking over at him out of the corner of your eye, he smiles warmly at you. Joshua is so good at making you flustered it’s almost illegal.

You keep your hand in his as you walk down the sidewalk, pointing out different decorations and your favorite houses. There are other people around you taking in the decorations, all other couples from what you can see. There’s one house that you get to towards the end of the street that’s the most dramatic looking of all. Twinkling, multicolored lights cover the house and an army of snowmen litter the yard, all draped in winter clothes with lights on them as accessories. Various blow-up decorations dot the yard, one of them even playing instrumental versions of classic Christmas carols. Paired with the December snow on the ground, the yard resembles a true winter wonderland and for a moment, you just focus on that and not the fact that your brain keeps wanting you to imagine taking all of this in with Chan.

You’re so focused on the wonder in front of you that you don’t notice the way Joshua admires your profile, smiling at the way your eyes sparkle as you admire the lights and decorations. Joshua takes the moment, turning to you and placing his fingers under your chin to turn your head towards him. The gesture catches you off guard, as does the kiss he leans down to place on your lips.

Joshua’s lips are plush against yours and so incredibly soft. He almost doesn’t feel real. His lips move against yours and you reciprocate, but that earlier, nagging feeling you’ve had since the restaurant comes back. The insistence that something here is missing and it’s even louder now that Joshua is kissing you. It’s especially hard to enjoy kissing him when your mind only wants to focus on your second almost-kiss with Chan earlier. You yearn so badly to feel his lips on yours and daydream about if they feel as soft as they look. You also can’t help but wonder if kissing Chan would make you feel things like fireworks. That consideration alone makes you notice the severe lack of them now. Guilt occupies your mind along with your thoughts of Chan and you notice just how little you feel from kissing Joshua.

As if he feels it too, he pulls away slowly, eyes immediately scanning your face. 

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” 

“It’s just that, well I mean, you’ve seemed like your mind is only half here all night. I could feel it just now. Did I do something? I should’ve asked you before kissing you, I’m sorry.”

“No! No, Joshua it’s fine! You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise! You’re a great kisser anyway,” you mumble the last part, truly meaning it. Joshua chuckles and thanks you, but his expression gets serious again.

“I appreciate that and you are too, but I still feel like something is wrong.” He stares at you as if trying to read your mind and it makes you feel shy. 

“It’s just…fuck, listen, Joshua, I have had a lot of fun tonight, okay? You’re easy to talk to and laugh with and I like hanging out with you, but I think maybe…there’s a spark between us that’s missing? I’m really sorry.” You gnaw on your bottom lip as you get your words out, worrying about how he’ll react.

Thankfully, he doesn’t make any indication that he’s upset at you. Instead, Joshua just nods and if anything, looks a little disappointed. 

“Thank you for being honest with me. I’ve had a really fun time too. Even though I do genuinely like you, I’m not going to try and make you return my feelings. If you’re okay with it, I’d like to at least stay friends? I promise I can get over my crush.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad that I had you take me out like this and it was for nothing.”

“Hey, it wasn’t for nothing! I’m a little disappointed we can’t be more, but I still got to know you more. I mean it when I say let’s stay friends. It’s comfortable and nice hanging out with you. I promise I won’t make this weird. If you’re okay with it. Otherwise, when I take you home, I’ll drop you off and fuck off forever.”

You huff out a laugh, mostly in relief at how normal he’s taking your lack of interest. You study him for a moment, sincerity is easy to read in his expression.

Your shoulders relax as you nod, telling Joshua that you’ll gladly still be friends. This seems to put him at ease as well, letting out a sigh of relief. In your friendship travels, finding a dependable guy friend has been near impossible, so the idea of finally finding one means you can't just let the friendship slip away. You did genuinely enjoy spending time with him too.

You and Joshua finish the walk and any awkwardness you felt when the night started leaves now that the air is a bit clearer. Joshua doesn’t hold your hand, but he stays close and you appreciate that he genuinely meant he didn’t want you to feel weird around him.

After going around the block and taking a few selfies together (at Joshua’s request), you walk back to his car and he still holds the door open for you.

“What? Just because we’re friends this is still a date right?” He shoots you a smirk and you roll your eyes but laugh, nodding at his words. “Exactly. Now let’s get you home.”

Once back in the car, Joshua turns up the heat, both of you thawing as he starts the drive back to your apartment building.

At one point in your chatter as he takes you home, you compliment his gentlemanly behavior all night, telling him it’s honestly some of the most you’ve been wooed out of most other guys you’ve been with. Joshua frowns, citing how fucked up that is and how much guys fucking suck. You can’t help but laugh, noting that his level-headedness just adds to the fact that he’s the perfect guy for most women.

You voice this, adding: “If you’re still looking for someone special, my best friend just might fall in love with you if she meets you.” Joshua laughs, shooting you a brief look that you catch. “Yeah okay. I’ll tell her about you and let you know what she says.” You giggle.

“Sorry!” He winces, regretting his obvious expression. “Was that weird? Did I make it weird?”

“No, no! I don’t mind! I do think you’re a great guy and I love her and want her to be with a great guy. I don’t have a problem with you two going out. I’m just a little relieved to know you wanna talk to someone else so quickly. Makes me feel less bad about everything.”

“Hey, for real, don’t feel bad! I told you I’m going to be okay.”

“Ugh I know, I just feel bad because you paid for that fancy sushi and walked out in the cold and I’m curbing you.”

“Y/n, I’m not going to go home and write in my journal that you broke my heart. It was just a date, okay?” 

Sighing, you finally accept his answer, deciding to let it drop, but still let him know you’re going to talk to Jinah about him. 

“If you guys do go out and fall in love, try not to treat me like a third wheel, yeah?”

Chuckling, Joshua rolls his eyes at you as the car rolls to a stop at a red light. “She doesn’t even know my name yet, Y/n.”

“Yeah well, what I said still stands.”

“Whatever you say.” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“Mmhmm.” Joshua shakes his head at you and your triumphant sounding rebuttal. “Just make sure you don’t forget about your friends whenever you find someone.” 

Frowning, you shake your head. “Oh, absolutely not. I’ve never even entertained abandoning my friends for a relationship. I’ll divide my time evenly between you guys and Ch-” Your lips clamp together like your mouth has been sewn shut, halting your words immediately.

Unfortunately, Joshua catches it, his eyebrows raising so high they almost disappear into his hairline. “Us and who?”

“No one.”

“That's obviously a lie. You were totally about to say someone’s name.”

“Huh? What makes you think that?”

You hit another red light and Joshua fixes you with a blank expression. “Really? You’re not gonna tell me?”

“Hey, this is still a date, remember?! What kind of date would I be if I talked about another guy?”

Joshua narrows his eyes once more before focusing back on the road as he accelerates and drops it, a suspicious look still on his face. You steer the conversation back to Joshua, getting him to tell you about his family back home a little more. He surely knows you’re deflecting but he doesn’t press you further. 

The conversation leads you right to a parking spot in your complex near the building entrance. Joshua, ever the gentleman, opens your door for you and walks you inside.

When reaching the third floor, Joshua walks you to the door. He pulls you into a hug, saying again that he had a good time hanging out with you regardless of the outcome. He says that he’ll look forward to your call about Jinah and about hanging out again soon. 

Things with Joshua may not have gone as intended, but you’re grateful that he’s understanding and not mad at the fact that you ended up not being interested.

“I will, promise. Get home safe!”

“I will. Have a good night.” He waves at you as he starts to go, but turns quickly to look at you with a glint in his eyes. “And good luck with Chan.” He caps his sentence off with a wink and the moment leaves you flabbergasted. Did he just say Chan?!

“I - what about Chan?!” You can only hope you don’t look as panicked as you feel. Joshua doesn’t address your question, or what he said as he gets to the elevator, offering you a final wave and laughing as the door closes.

How the hell did he know that’s who you were talking about? You’ve never done anything to make someone think you like Chan, but clearly the response lets you know that maybe you’re not as good at hiding your feelings as you thought you were. Has Chan noticed anything from you that would clue him in on your feelings for him being more than platonic? If so, you can only hope Hansol has been too… Hansol to notice it himself.

Chan’s lost count of how many times he’s paced the living room. He keeps trying to sit or do something else other than obsess over you, but nothing seems to be working. All he can think about is you out on a date, having fun, and developing feelings for someone other than him. He even called out of work tonight, telling Soonyoung he wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t a complete lie. 

Seeing the way Joshua just swept in after so long and snatched you up, just-like-that, legitimately made his head and stomach hurt. Chan knows for sure he is absolutely in love with you and the other almost-kiss he nearly shared with you proves it. He still didn’t recall where the mistletoe came from, but because of it, even if it wasn’t the proper result, he’s not exactly complaining. Well, not about the fact that you very clearly almost kissed him back.

He just feels like an idiot because he let you leave and is watching you slip away from him again and this time it’s to one of his friends. A friend that has more guts than him to step up and ask you out and tell you that he’s into you.

Chan hasn’t been brave enough to approach you and finally, finally try asking you out. The time when he was fourteen didn’t count because he was still a kid and you never saw him as anything other than your little brother’s annoying best friend that followed you around. Of course, you wouldn't have ever gone out with him. 

But it’s different now. You’re both adults and you’re closer than that already. You seem to actually enjoy spending time with Chan and being around him for the first time in the entire time that he has known you and maybe, just maybe, he’d have a real chance with you. 

His own cowardice stopped him from speaking up and allowed his older, much more confident hyung to do what he’s been too afraid to. It fucking sucked.

After you left, the only thing he’s done is stay up and stare at the TV, jealousy chipping away at him. Jealous that Joshua got to you before he could do it. Jealousy eats him up so much that he can’t feel relaxed no matter what he does. So, the only thing he thinks to do is sit up and wait for you.

As you enter the apartment, you expect the room to be dark, but you’re surprised to instead see Chan pacing around the living room with the TV playing a commercial.

When he turns upon hearing the door, you both freeze, his expression reading a deer in headlights. 

“Y/n.”

“Chan?”

“Y/n, you’re here.”

“Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay?”

His eyes are wide as he watches you slip your shoes off. 

“Y/n,” he rushes over to you, grabbing your hands when you step into the room. The gesture is the most contact you’ve had in a week and it lights up all of your senses. He guides you into the room, but the two of you stay standing. “I have some stuff I want to say, okay? It might sound weird and you might hate me and I might fuck up everything, but I’m going to explode if I keep this to myself anymore.”

“Okay…” Your hesitance is obvious, but you don’t walk away to take your hands out of his hold, so he takes this as a sign to continue.

“I, fuck I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it, but Y/n, the truth is that I’m still in love with you. It’s different from when I was a dumb kid. That was me being captivated by my best friend’s big sister who was so much cooler and more mature than me and was the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. When you left for college and your career, it hurt, but I told myself to get over it. That it was just my first crush and first crushes eventually go away.

And I thought that was true until you moved back and I realized, ‘oh shit, I’m still into her,’ only now it’s worse because I got to know you, like really know you, and realized that you’re still that intelligent, mature, amazing girl, but now you’re a woman and you’re still the woman of my dreams. I’ve been trying so hard to show you that I still care for you without actually saying it because I was worried that you’d turn me down and I didn’t know if I could handle that, but seeing you go out with Joshua and potentially slip away from me for good again has been killing me all night and I can’t hold back anymore. 

If you don’t like me back that is completely okay! I know Joshua hyung is handsome and smart and he’s going to be a doctor so like whatever, yeah I get it. I won’t make living with you weird at all! I’ll even steer clear of certain areas when you’re around if that makes you feel better. Just, you know, whatever you want. But okay, I’m done. Too many words.”

Chan wants the floor to open up right at this moment and swallow him given the way you’re looking at him. Wide-eyed and mouth in a firm line as you absorb his words.

“Dammit, Chan!”

“What?! Sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry I suck I-”

“Huh? No! I didn’t mean it like that! I said that because, well, I think that you succeeded in showing me how much you care for me because I’ve fallen for you over the past three months.” Chan’s eyes widen almost comically, but he doesn’t say anything. “ I tried to fight it given one, you’re my brother’s best friend, two we live together, and three, you’re younger than me and four, I just didn’t want to make things weird with all of us living together, but knowing you like me just makes me want to stop being so cautious.”

“Really?”

“Really. Spending time with you and getting to know you has only made me like you more. Being around you, spending time with you, talking with you, everything just feels so right when we’re together. It’s scary because I have never felt like this, but I want it. I want you, Chan. In every sense of the word.”

The shell shocked man across from you has to let your words sit in his brain for a bit before he fully registers what you’ve said. You like him too. You’ve fallen for him. Being with him feels right. You want him. 

If this is a cruel dream, Chan would really appreciate it if he could wake up right now. He closes his eyes tightly, counting to three before opening again. Sure enough, you’re still standing in front of him, looking at him with expectant eyes, anticipating his next words.

“Sorry, I’m just letting this all sink in. I don’t think I thought you’d actually say you feel the same.”

You shrug, shooting him a small smile. “Me neither honestly. I thought for sure you had gotten over your crush on me and moved on to actual women who returned your feelings.”

“Me too, at first I mean. But like I said, just seeing you again had all of those feelings rushing back to me.” 

“Well I’m extremely lucky then it seems.”

“So am I.” You both stand there, grinning at each other, unsure what to do next. You think about maybe kissing Chan, finally, but you wonder if that’s too fast and too presumptuous of you.

As if he can read your mind, Chan clears his throat, making eye contact for a few seconds before looking away and taking a breath.

“Y/n, can I kiss you?” He blurts out, but you still hear him.

“Please do!” You answer immediately, encouraged by the knowledge that he wants the same as you.

Chan doesn’t need to be told twice, immediately rushing over to you before you have too much time to think. Your back hits the wall in an effort to keep your weak knees from giving out. When Chan stops, right in front of you, you’re almost chest to chest. He’s so close that you feel the warmth that radiates from him.

His arm rests above your head, keeping you trapped, but leaving his other arm down, allowing you a way out if you wanted. Neither of you speak for a moment, both blinking at the other. You each need to decide what will happen next. 

You both make that decision at the exact same time. Chan’s eyes stay locked on yours as he lowers his face. At the same time, your eyes flutter closed as you crane your neck up, allowing your lips to meet somewhere in the middle.

Your lips are still a little cold, Chan notes as your arms reach out in the tiny space between the two of you, and grasp the front of his t-shirt to pull him close, his body pressing you completely against the wall. He squeezes his eyes closed hard enough to hurt a few times in an effort to wake himself up from the dream that he feels like he’s having. He’s had more dreams than he can count about kissing you for as long as he can remember, so surely this is another one of those? 

That thought is only sent away when your arms slip up his body and around his neck, fingers weaving into the sensitive hairs on the back of his neck and tugging. The action is like lightning through his body and helps keep him in the very real moment.

Kissing Chan feels the way that you think they describe in movies. They always describe it as feeling like the world around you fades away in a haze and your head feels fuzzy. All of the sounds you hear are like white noise or turn into muffled background noise. It’s cliché and something you don’t think you’ve ever felt until this moment. Kissing Chan feels right and you don’t think you ever want to kiss anyone else for a long time, if ever again.

His strong arms wrap around your waist as you melt into him, your lips moving together in perfect sync. Your hands move down to his biceps to steady yourself, fingers wrapping around as much of him as you can, which isn’t much but you try.

You stay like that longer than you think you can count. Both of you clinging to one another, making out against the wall like lovestruck, horny teenagers, even if that’s exactly what you feel like. Your heart hammers against your chest and your thighs squeeze together as the kiss ignites not only something in your chest, but in your panties too. 

The kiss turns from soft and sentimental to heated quicker than either of you are brave enough to admit, but you’re not complaining. You’ve wanted each other for months (years for Chan) and are finally getting what you’ve dreamt of. Chan’s thick, muscled thigh wedges its way between yours. Your leggings may have been thick enough to avoid the cold, but they aren’t thick enough to keep you away from feeling him brush against your tender folds.

What sounds like a whimper slips out of you and gets swept away by Chan’s tongue and into his mouth. He swallows down sound after sound as he makes sure to nudge your pussy again and again and soon enough, you’re grinding down on him, sloppily riding his thigh as his lips stay connected to yours.

When you finally pull away, the first sound out of your mouth is a deep moan. Chan flexes his thigh in a way that tenses the muscles and he hits your clothed clit in the most delicious way.

“Fuck,” Chan pants as he holds your hips. His knee rests between your legs and against the wall to stay steady. You grind over Chan’s sweatpants again and with each sweet sound that slips out of your mouth, he feels himself getting painfully harder.

“Ch-Chan,” you manage out.

“Hmm?”

“I need more.”

“More? More what, baby girl?” 

The pet name rolls off his tongue so easily, too easily, and your pussy throbs even harder. Riding his thigh feels fucking amazing and you know you can cum just like this, but you don’t want to just yet. You’d much rather cum around his cock. The playful part of you also wants him to be just as needy as you.

“More of you. Please, baby,” You lean up to place kisses on his neck. When you get to his jawline, you flatten your tongue right on the side of his chin, dragging it up his jaw, and landing on his ear lobe. Chan makes the prettiest, breathy whines as you tease him and it only makes you clench even more. When you stop and your teeth nibble on the shell of his ear, capping it off with a whisper of, “Please Channie,” Chan feels like he could explode, right then and there.

“Anything. Fucking anything for you” Chan mumbles his words before diving down to lavish your neck in kisses of his own, the tip of his tongue darting out occasionally to lap at your skin. He leaves sloppy kisses on your skin as he descends down to your chest, stopping briefly where your nipples sit behind layers of clothes. 

He drops to his knees as he goes and doesn’t stop until he reaches your waist. 

“Chan?” You’re surprised that this is how he wants you first. You expected him to finger you before anything, but he clearly wants to start elsewhere.

His hands move to grasp at your waistband, stopping before he actually undresses you. His eyes meet yours, fingertips meeting your bare skin underneath your sweater. 

“Can I? I need to get my mouth on you so badly.”

“Fuck, yes. You better,” you demand in response, not even flinching at his request. The two of you easily slip your leggings and your panties down and off of you in one go. 

Chan lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, pushing your thighs apart. His eyes widen at the sight of you bare and wet in front of him. His mouth waters at the glistening arousal he sees coating your lower lips and he almost gets lightheaded at the heady scent of you. Chan could die right here before even tasting you and even that would be okay with him.

“Chan, please I need you!” You beg, feeling self conscious under his stare. He doesn’t make you wait any longer and instantly dives between your folds, his tongue lapping at you harshly.

Your knees nearly buckle at the suction, a loud cry ringing out. He doesn’t hesitate at all, his tongue immediately plunging into your wet hole. Your head hits the wall with a thunk as Chan begins eating you out as if his life depended on it. He fucks you with his tongue with obvious vigor, his nose bumping into your clit with each turn of his head.

His hands cup your ass, pulling you closer to his face so he can reach deeper in you, damn near making out with your cunt. Chan grunts and groans into you as he slurps, the wet sounds echoing through the room.

“Fuck, Chan. Fuck you’re t-too fucking good,” Your fingers are in his hair again, knotting into his strands to hold his face against you. The action makes him dizzy, his cock painfully hard and begging to be released from the confines of his sweatpants.

When you cum, which isn’t very long from when he started devouring you, you think you almost pass out. Your vision whites out and your body feels like gelatin, almost falling forward. Chan keeps his grip on your ass, not stopping until you start to yank him away from your pussy.

“I am going to pass out if you keep eating me out like that!”

“Fucking hell, Y/n, you have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you,” he’s breathless when he speaks, licking his lips in the most obscene manner. 

“Did I live up to your expectations?” You tease, getting wet all over again as you observe the way his face glistens with your juices and his blown out pupils.

“You have no idea. But we’re not done yet, beautiful.”

Another simple pet name has you shivering and Chan notices, and he loves the way you react to him. He stands upright again and grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together as he leads you to his bedroom. When he gets you in the room he brings you to his bed, pushing you and watching you bounce gently on his quilt. You start to undress what you had left on, keeping your eyes trained on him as you pull your sweater over your head and unhook your bra, tossing it somewhere in the room.

This is just like so many wet dreams he’s had, but this time it’s real life and almost too good to be true.

“You gonna just stand there and ogle me or are you going to get naked and come over here and kiss me?” You tease him, widening your legs to make room for him.

Chan’s eyes are glued to your pussy, still wet and shining for him, and he all but tears his clothes from his body and scrambles onto the bed without another thought.

“Sorry,” he says between kisses. “I was just admiring the goddess waiting for me on my bed,” You’re ready to tease him again, but he cuts you off when he lowers his head and his mouth suctions around one of your nipples, sucking hard enough to make your back bow off of the bed. 

Eager lips lavish over the sensitive bud as his hand finds its way between your legs. He circles your entrance with a finger and repeats the motion a few more times before kissing his way over to your other nipple to give it the same amount of attention.

“So pretty,” he mumbles against your skin. Your fingers tangle in his dark hair as he covers your chest in bites, licks, and kisses, his finger still teasing you.

As if sensing you about to complain, he finally lets your nipple go, kissing his way down your body until he’s face to face with your pussy again.

“Chan…” you sigh, feeling his tongue dart out to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. He takes the time to spend extra attention on your nub, stiffening his tongue and flicking at it at what feels like an inhumane speed.

Chan relishes the gorgeous sound of your cries for him, noises of pleasure mixed in with huffs of his name and whispers of curse words. He loves that these sounds are all for him and because of him. He already knew he’d get addicted to you if he ever was able to get you into his bed and this settles that. He needs to hear you like this for him until he passes away. Even then, he wants to be buried with a recording of your moans and whines.

He shifts on his stomach to get closer to your core and plunges his tongue into you, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue again. The angle allows him room to grind against his quilt, pretending that it’s you he’s rutting against. His eyes slip closed as your thighs do the same around his head and he loses himself as he eats you out with a sense of excitement that he doesn’t think he’s ever felt about anything else.

Chan moves as if he didn’t do the same thing not even ten minutes ago and he only serves in pushing you so much closer to the edge faster than the first time. You call this out to him, tugging at his hair and it only spurs him on. He burrows between your legs even further, letting out more determined grunts that you feel throughout your entire body.

“Ch-Chan, fuck, I’m cumming! Right there, right there - I - fuck!” Your hands keep Chan trapped as you let go, legs spasming as he keeps at it, happily lapping up your release that covers his chin.

Out of breath, your body sags against the bed and you pry your legs open to let him up. “Shit, Chan enough. Come up here and fuck me already.”

“Yes ma’am.” His face is covered in you and his use of yes ma’am sends molten heat up your spine and between your legs again.

He leans over to his nightstand to fish out a condom, but you stop him, shaking your head.

“I’m on the pill, just pull out?”

Your words could’ve very well been a spell with the way they make him dizzy, but he doesn’t question it and only breathes out a yes and positions himself between your legs.

“Are you okay? Tell me to stop at any time and I will, okay?” He checks your face to make sure you’re comfortable and when he sees you nod he starts to ease himself into you slowly.

When his bulbous tip slips in first, you’re instantly letting out small mewls that only intensify with each inch that Chan fills you with.

“Oh my fuck, Y/n, you feel incredible. Shit!” Chan grits his teeth as he takes his time entering you. When he’s finally filled you up to the hilt, he has to take a second and take a deep breath. He’s never felt so close to cumming this quickly since he was in high school. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you truly feel like nothing and no one he’s ever felt. Your soft velvet walls cradle him perfectly, clenching every now and again making him even weaker.

“Move, Channie,” you breathe out, lifting your hips a little to get him going. Chan sits up on his knees, wrapping your legs around his waist as he grabs a hold of your hips.

He starts slow as he fucks you, finding a pace that works for him. Once he gets it, which he does rather quickly, he’s relentless. His hips drive into yours at breakneck speed, balls hitting your ass which each thrust forward.

“Fuck, Y/n, baby, you feel like a fucking dream!” His compliment comes out high pitched as he says it, the sound of his hips slapping against yours almost drowning out his words, but you hear him.

“Yeah, fuck, you feel so good Channie. Fucking me so, so good!” Tears collect at the corners of your eyes as Chan bullies into you over and over again, shoving you further up the bed. “You’re such a good boy for m-me, aren’t you?”

Chan’s eyes cross at your praise, biting his lip so hard he nearly draws blood just to keep himself from bursting inside of you at that moment. He nods like a madman, taking deep breaths to push back his orgasm. He’s so terribly close, but he refuses to cum without you.

He pants above you, eyes darting between your fucked out expression with your eyes rolling back and mouth hanging open, your tits that bounce with each force of his body, to between your legs as he catches sight of himself disappearing into your heat. He catches sight of the white ring of arousal you coat around his dick and he feels himself getting closer and closer.

He’s dizzy with lust for you but still manages to check in with you, forcing out coherent words to ask how you’re doing. You reassure him you’re okay, praising him once again about how good he feels.

“H-harder, Channie. Fuck me harder!”

As with anything else Chan does for you, he doesn’t need you to ask twice as he readjusts his knees before leaning forward to bend at the waist, making sure your legs are still secure around his waist. He leans down, his hands on either side of your head as kisses you, the new angle allowing him to thrust into you at a harder pace.

“Just like that, Chan! Fuck me like that!” Your words tumble out of you in a garbled mess, but he hears you loud and clear. The sensation of your nails digging into his back as you hold him closer sends him into a frenzy as he continues his brutal pace. His new position also allows his pelvis to brush against your clit hard enough to send you over the edge all the way.

“I’m - Y/n, I’m so close. I’m -”

“Me too, Channie, me too. Want you to cum. Wanna see you and hear you,” you cry out, each word almost cut off with a moan.

When you cum, your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and your eyes squeeze shut, stars erupting behind your lids as your body almost convulses underneath him. Your muscles hurt with how hard your body stiffens and your brain only focuses on the drag of Chan’s cock against your hyper-sensitive walls.

The sight alone and your chant of Chan’s name has him cumming next. He pulls out, desperately jerking himself off over you before he panics.

“Wh-where can I?”

“Anywhere, baby! Anywhere you want,” As soon as the last word leaves your lips, Chan yells out your name, his warm seed spurting out and landing on your stomach, some of it even hitting right under your breasts as he milks himself over your body. If you weren’t so tired you’d suck him off to overstimulate him, but for now, you just admire how stunning Chan looks. Skin flushed and chiseled jaw clenched as he empties himself onto your sweaty body.

As he cums, Chan tears up a little because holy shit you’re the best feeling he’s ever felt, and being inside of you is like an out of body experience. He’s no virgin, but this is the first time he’s slept with someone who he has such a strong emotional connection with. It’s the best thing he’s ever experienced in his life, he thinks.

Once he’s released everything he possibly can, Chan rolls off of you and flops next to your spent body. 

“Holy shit,” you mumble, taking a deep breath. “I think my soul has officially left the building.”

“Oh, I know mine is gone. It was gone the moment you let me kiss you.” Giggling, you glance over at Chan who’s already looking at you.

“I’ll always let you kiss me now. How can I not?” Chan grins wide enough at you that you think his mouth should probably hurt. The thought makes you breathe out a laugh.

Chan tilts his head at you. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just admiring how cute you are,” As if not expecting that answer, Chan gets a little shy, eyes looking away from you as you see the tips of his ears reddening. You can’t help but lean up and place a kiss on his ear and he jumps at the light peck. “Come on, cutie. Let’s get cleaned up and ready for bed. You can sleep in my room tonight and we’ll wash your sheets tomorrow. Sound good?” 

Chan nods so aggressively, that you almost question how his neck is feeling. He reaches for his tissues on the side table and wipes the cooling cum from your body. He then helps you up from the bed and tosses you one of his towels, wrapping one around his waist. 

When you have the towel covering yourself, you both step into the hallway only to freeze when seeing Hansol coming down the hall, and he stops too. He takes notice of the two of you, standing there holding towels over yourselves, and lets out a laugh. He takes his headphones off and lets them drape about his neck, the sound of “All the Small Things” filling the silence between the three of you.

“I take it the mistletoe worked?”

You and Chan share an incredulous look before turning back to your brother.

“You put the mistletoe up?!” You gasp. You had just accepted the fact that you put it up and forgot, but it’s nice to know you aren't going completely insane.

“Well, it was Soonyoung’s idea. He called earlier and told me to put it up somewhere both of you would end up. I wasn’t sure at first, but it looks like it worked.”

“I mean…kind of. But I have so many questions.”

“Ask them later. I’ve been home for a little while but didn’t wanna come into the hallway and uh, interrupt.” Hansol frowns and continues on to his room. Your brother halts his steps before going in and fixes you both with a look. “Oh, and I only have two things to say. One, Chan, if you hurt my sister I will kick your ass. And I’m telling Cheol hyung,” Chan lets out a small squeak and salutes Hansol, promising he’ll treat you like a queen. Hansol nods and then continues. “And two, can y’all like, I don’t know, leave a sock or something on your doors when you’re gonna do this? I came in and heard some noises I never want to hear my sister and best friend making ever again so just give me a chance to put my headphones on.” 

“Ugh, sorry,” you grunt, your face heating up in mortification. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Glad you guys can stop trying but failing not to flirt in front of me. Now goodnight and please keep it down for the night, I’m begging you.”

You and Chan promise your brother that you’ll be considerate and he thanks you before shuffling into his room for the night.

“He took that better than expected,” you observe as you and Chan move into the bathroom.

“Yeah. Honestly, I was expecting him either to be grossed out or do something very out of character and hit me or something.”

You snort, turning on the shower water and hanging up the towel you’ve been holding against your body. “Hansol hasn’t swung on anyone or anything since he was at least seven and that was at our old neighbor’s bird because it tried to land on his head.” 

Chan cackles at the thought, but it’s quickly replaced with a low sigh as he watches you tuck your hair into a shower cap to keep it from getting wet. Watching you stand in front of him, naked and just existing comfortably makes both his heart beat out of his chest and his dick uncomfortably hard. 

You at least can notice the latter, eyes playfully observing his length between his legs. “Someone has an impressive bounce back period.” 

“I can’t help it. I have a beautiful, sexy woman standing naked in front of me. What do you want me to do?”

The bathroom isn’t that big so when you brush past Chan, it’s not hard to brush against him. Your thigh grazes his erection and he groans louder than intended, slapping his hand over his mouth when the sound comes out. You can’t help but giggle as you slip into the shower watching him still stand there and gawk at you.

“What you can do is, come join me in this shower and fuck me against this wall, but only if you can be way quieter than you just were.”

The sentence doesn’t even have a chance to finish completely before Chan is practically leaping into the shower, body crowding yours against the tile wall.

“Anything for you, Y/n.” He peppers your neck and shoulder with kisses, biting the skin as he goes.

“Mmm, you have got to stop saying that to me, Channie. You’ll spoil me.”

Chan pulls away, eyes meeting yours with the most serious expression you’ve seen from him since he confessed his feelings for you earlier this evening.

“Good. I want to spoil you and I will until I physically can’t anymore.” Chan rests his forehead against yours, taking a moment to enjoy being close to you as the shower water warms your skin.

“Only if you let me do the same to you, baby.” His eyes flutter at the pet name and you love the way it seems to make his skin flush more.

“Thank you, Y/n.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, existing? Making me the luckiest man in the world? All of the above?” It’s your turn to get sheepish at his words, playfully pushing against his firm chest.

“Thank you, Chan. You treat me differently from so many other people I’ve been with and you make me feel special.” You hope he understands just how true your words are. The way he’s treated you since you moved in has been with nothing but care and affection, even before knowing he still likes you. Chan is a truly amazing guy and you consider yourself lucky that he wants you in his life like this.

“You are special and you should feel that way. I’ll make sure to keep doing it. And I’ll make sure you feel amazing and special in every way.” Warm hands slide down your body and slip between your legs to rub gentle circles against your clit. The whiplash from the tender moment to the not-so-tender startles you for only a moment before it’s replaced with want as Chan works you up.

Chan’s dancer hips are something to be studied and worshiped with the way in which he drills into you under the spray. You had teased him with being quiet, but you’re the one that needs to sink your teeth into the thick skin of his shoulder to stop from yelling his name.

He laughs between thrusts, but when you clench around him in retaliation, his pace falters and he pouts down at you. You kiss his pout away, keeping your lips together as you both cum, swallowing the possible noise complaints you’d have received otherwise. 

Even if Hansol had lectured you both about your noise level, it’d be worth it, especially when you see the blissful look on Chan’s face as he gazes at you. Eyes full of wonder, tiredness, and above all else, love. Even though it hasn’t been long at all, you’ll be surprised if he can’t see the same shining back up at him.

Time seems to fly by, and Christmas suddenly creeps up on you. Thankfully, you finish your shopping before the last minute and get everything you need to, done. You and Chan spend the time leading up to it doing as many cute, coupley things that you can think of while Hansol does his best to not be a third wheel. He rarely ever is, but you’re thankful for the support from your brother nonetheless.

On Christmas morning, Chan is up first, already wide awake and looking at you when you open your eyes. It’s cute if not a little surprising at first. He at least lets you brush your teeth and make yourself decent before ushering you into the hallway. He knocks loudly on Hansol’s door as he passes, telling him it’s time for presents. 

His excitement is incredibly endearing and it warms your heart to see him so eager to sit you down on the couch and present you with your first gift from under the Christmas tree. The first box is a small square, secured with a red sparkly ribbon. When you take the lid off, a CD looks back at you in a red, jewel tone case. You smile as you take it out and turn it over, seeing a note on the back along with the tracklist.

Songs for the only woman who’s ever owned my heart. Merry Christmas, Y/n.  Love, Your Channie

Tears prick your eyes at the gesture. It’s a small gift, but it’s personal. You don’t think you’ve had anyone make you a mixtape and yet again, it just proves how sweet Lee Chan is.

“Thank you Channie,” you pucker your lips and he eagerly leans down to kiss you, almost tripping into your lap in the process. “Oh!” He jumps up, running back to the tree for another box, this one wrapped in white ribbons. Inside is another rectangle box, but in that is the gift. 

“Chan?!”

“You like it?” He asks, taking the bracelet out of the box before you can answer. He gestures to your wrist and you present it, letting him clip the shiny, diamond tennis bracelet. “The sales lady said they’re really popular for the “special ladies in your life” this year and I thought you’d like it since you like pretty jewelry.” You give Chan a watery smile, stopping yourself again from nearly crying. Instead, you get up and pull him into a hug, squeezing his waist hard.

“I love it, thank you Chan,” When you pull away, it’s your turn to go to the tree to retrieve his gifts. 

“But I’ve already gotten the greatest gift I’ve ever wanted in my life,” he gestures to you with a flourish, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh yeah? Guess that means I should return these presents then huh?” You dangle both boxes in the air, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean…you already bought them and wrapped them though so you may as well just…” he makes grabby hands at the boxes and you can’t help but laugh, handing over both gifts to him. 

The first one he opens has a shiny silver watch in it that you saw in the mall with Jinah weeks ago and thought of him. It’s your turn to help him as you put it on his wrist, both of you admiring it. He mentions that it’s the nicest watch he’s ever owned and that he’ll never take it off.

When he gets to the other small box, he opens it to see an envelope sitting in the middle of the tissue paper. Curiously, Chan opens it pulling out what’s inside and he nearly passes out.

“Michael Jackson tickets?!”

“Yeah! I heard people at work talk about it like two months ago. He’s going to be in Seoul this summer! I was getting them for you whether we ended up together or not because I know how much you love him. You deserve it!” You beam at him and watch as tears well in his eyes this time. “Aw, Channie!”

Chan jumps from the couch to pull you into a bear hug at the same time that Hansol comes into the living room.

“Hyung, I have to tell you now, but I’m going to marry your sister,” he says in a serious tone.

“Chan!” Laughing, you squeeze his arms, trying to wriggle from his grasp.

“Fine as long as you still stick by my rules.”

“Hansol!” Both men purposely ignore you as they discuss your fictional wedding and Chan brags about his concert tickets. The whole moment fills you with an indescribable warmth, even when Chan finally releases you and lets you sit on the couch.

You didn’t anticipate that you’d end up here when you first thought about leaving your career, but you’re glad you did. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else other than here on Christmas with your two favorite men.

“The ball is going to drop soon!” Seungkwan announces to your group. He turns the volume of the TV up as the countdown shows on the screen.

It’s New Year’s Eve and your large group of friends is huddled in Jinah’s living room to ring in the New Year. You hadn’t known where you’d be ringing in the year 2000 initially and had anticipated it’d be at home, but with Jinah and Joshua dating and being almost inseparable for the last two weeks, she found herself hanging around the rest of the guys as much as you have and since her apartment is the biggest, she had everyone come here.

You’re sitting next to Chan on her couch as you pull your drinks closer. Seungkwan and his partner sit together holding hands, nervously checking the clock on the wall and looking back at the TV. The two of them, Seokmin, and one of their other friends named Mingyu all found out about Y2K around the same time and have been preparing for it leading up to tonight. No matter how many times you, Hansol, and Joshua try to tell them you’ll all be fine, you let the group of conspiracy theorists have their beliefs, knowing once the new year rolls in, they’ll be fine.

Chan often makes fun of them, but you also never miss the way his eyes widen when they talk about the computers exploding and the world ending.

“Three…two…one, happy new year!” Everyone’s voices echo throughout the room as you count down to the new year together, noisemakers and cheers following.

Chan turns towards you, his lips meeting yours as you share your first kiss of the new year. His hands cradle your face, tilting your head back just the slightest to deepen the short yet sensual kiss.

“Happy New Year, Y/n.” He says against your lips.

“Happy New Year, Chan.”

Around the room, the rest of your friends are pouring more champagne and you catch sight of Seungkwan and his partner still sharing their New Year’s kiss, both smiling, likely in relief. Joshua and Jinah are on the other side of the room, her head resting on his shoulder as they watch the fireworks on TV. Chan redirects your attention back to him to kiss you once more, this one quicker yet just as sweet.

And just like that the world doesn’t end, much to Seokmin, Mingyu, Seungkwan’s (and Chan’s) relief, but your new world with Chan in it has just begun. You’re looking forward to what the new millennia and life with Chan will bring.

Net tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf | Taglist: @aaniag

#svthub #kflixnet #wkcnet #kwritersworldnet #kbookshelf #k-labels #dino smut #lee chan smut #dino fluff #lee chan fluff #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #dino x reader #lee chan x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #dino fanfic #lee chan fanfic #kvanity #ksmutsociety #now that's 90s collab

[slytherizz]

Petulant - Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

Tags: Rivals to Lovers, Fluff, Slice of Life, First Kiss

A/N I'm trying to be kinder to myself when it comes to my writing. I usually share longer pieces but I have so many little bits of fluffy drabble and I'm trying to remember writing is meant to be fun and not every one-shot needs to be perfect.

Palms flat on the jetty Sebastian hoisted himself out of the water. Cursing violent profanities as he shook his hair out like a wet dog as he scrambled onto the dock. Shaking whether with rage or because the frigid water of the black lake had chilled him to the bone. She wasn’t sure. 

Not that she cared. 

Sebastian deserved it for being such a petulant pain in her arse. And little water never killed anyone; no matter how many unsavoury creatures lurked in its murky depths.

He’d practically goaded her into shoving him off the jetty. It had only been a matter of time before one of them retaliated against this little bonding exercise of Hecat’s. If he'd seen the opening first she'd be the one drenched and spluttering - she was sure of it. 

Having to endure sharing a potions station where they could use Gareth as a buffer was one thing. But being forced to spend her precious and most sacred Sallow-free hours, in the freezing cold catching Grindalow's as punishment was beyond the pale. All because they caused a teensy fire that was entirely Sebasitan’s fault when a duel had gotten out of hand. 

Really what had Hecate expected to achieve with this cruel and unusual detention? That they’d return to the castle thick as thieves? Strike up a newfound camaraderie that would want to make her do anything besides hex the smarmy git?

Impossible. Their professor was far too optimistic and this exercise had been doomed from the start.

“Enjoy your swim?” she sneered. Perhaps it hadn’t been an entire waste of time. At least now she could savour this mental image of him sopping wet and looking utterly ridiculous. 

Regaining his balance and rising to his full height, Sebastian stalked towards her. Face like thunder stopping mere inches away from her to glare down his nose. Droplets of water falling from his hair onto her cheeks. She swatted them away wrinkling her nose in disgust which only seemed to enrage him further. 

"You. Are the most immature. Insufferable. Petulant witch, I've ever had the displeasure to meet. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t hex you on the spot! Why exactly did you feel the need to throw me in the bastard lake?”

He was standing so close to her she should really step away but her feet were practically glued to the spot. Standing so close his hot breath ghosted across her cheeks. So close in fact, she could see his freckled skin through the shirt which clung to every inch of him. Sheer white leaving absolutely nothing to her imagination. 

How she'd never noticed quite how large Sebastian had gotten until he was impressing down on her was a mystery. A realisation that came too little too late as she’d turned their altercations physical. 

No matter where she looked there seemed to be more of him. Broad shoulders heaving with every laboured breath. Water beading in sparse hairs on his chest which peaked out from over his open-top buttons. Muscles in his jaw and neck twitching in agitation. 

Her eyes of their own volition had begun to meander down his stomach following the trail of hair wondering exactly how far they went before she caught herself. Wrenching them up again to his face, before she saw if the cling of his soaking tartan trousers exposed just as much of him as his shirt. Half terrified of what she'd find; the other half disgusted with her own desire to look. She didn't know what kind of feelings it would invoke but by the heat pooling low in her abdomen - she could hazard a guess.

“Have you got nothing to say for yourself?” 

She blushed wildly. Mouth flapping open and closing like a fish out of water. Trying to stamp down the unwelcome feeling that made her want to press her thighs together. 

He blinked at her. Dark eyebrows lowering sceptically. "You're staring."

"I am not!” she spluttered. Trying to recapture the feeling of overwhelming irritation she’d felt the precise moment she’d thrown him overboard. “An obnoxious idiot just happens to be shouting his head off in my eyeline."

"You're blushing." He smirked, voice giddy with amusement as if he'd finally cracked some impossible puzzle. Her hands snapped up to clasp her burning face to hide the evidence. His tongue darted across his bottom lip licking off water. Which only made her cheeks burn hotter.

"Is that why you pushed me in? Wanted to get a good look?"

"I wanted you to shut your mouth and stop whinging for five minutes so I could have some bloody peace. But it seems to have had the opposite effect - you're chatting even more bollocks than before."

"So this why you’re so insufferable all the time. This-” He gestured down to his dishevelled albeit to her utter dismay, not unappealing state of undress. “Is your idea of flirting?”

“Flir- Flirting? You must have knocked your head on your way down.”

“Merlin. This is rich - You’d be pulling on my pigtails if I had them."

"No. I. Wouldn't!"

Foot stomping hard on the rickety planks in frustration. Rather childish and definitely not her proudest display. It did little to prove her argument and instead to her dismay only seemed to make Sebastian grin wider.

"You fancy me." Not a question. He declared it like he’d won some imaginary battle. 

"I absolutely do not."

He leaned further towards her she could see the glint of triumph in his brown eyes. She swallowed hard eyes flicking towards his lips and back again. 

"Liar.”

Strong hands seized her face and knowing he’d won - Sebastian crashed his lips into hers. They were wet and cool against hers from his tumble into the lake as he kissed her. But so soft and inviting in a way she didn’t think anyone's flesh could be it made her head spin. His fingers tangled in her hair, mouth moving demanding against hers. 

Her knee jerked instinctively towards his most precious area but faltered, along with the last of her pride. She could not seem to find the will to pry herself away. Sebastian’s teeth grazed her bottom lip requesting access. She gasped in surprise and he slid his tongue past her parted lips. A shudder ran through her as his tongue flicked against hers.  

He groaned into her mouth, as her tongue matched his motions in maddening strokes. A sound under normal circumstances she would have mocked him mercilessly for only made her kiss him back more feverishly. Regrettably, her hands were just as traitorous as her tongue. Following the curve of broad shoulders, she felt the muscles underneath firm from years of duelling. Admitting defeat she dared to go further tangling in his wet hair. Pulling gently hoping it would elicit more sinful sounds from Sebastian. 

A deep well of desire now pooled in her gut all rational thoughts drowned in. She failed miserably to stifle her own strained moan as large hands encircled her waist pulling her flush against him. Skin practically burning despite the frigid temperatures.

A truly pathetic whimper of protest escaped her lips as Sebastian pulled away from their kiss. Leaving her breathless and dizzy even as the cold rushed in. No longer able to leech his warmth she shamefully realised how close their bodies had been pressed together from the chill of her damp clothes. 

He stepped back and if she was capable of forming a coherent thought she would have hexed the smug look off his ridiculous, handsome, infuriating face. 

"Now. I'm going to go and get out of these wet clothes before I catch a death," Sebastian said. As casually as if he was observing the weather and had not just spent the last five minutes snogging the supposed most insufferable witch he’d ever met. Turning quickly on his heels he began striding towards the boat house. Leaving her open-mouthed cheeks burning from the frigid wind lapping at the wet hand print on her cheek or with shameful unwanted desire she wasn't sure. Calling back over his shoulder. A roughish smile pulled on freckled cheeks. A devilish glint in his eye. "If you're ready to stop being such a brat - I'll let you help."

She groaned inwardly, legs following him across the jetty seemingly of their own accord. Powerless to stop herself and praying no one would see her shameless pursuit. 

She knew he'd never let her live this one down.

Not that she cared.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic

[edgeray]

One Hell of a Butler Pt. 2

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader Blurb)

A/N: Wasn't really expecting to write arle content so soon but heck i miss writing and school makes me sad :( i have 4 assessments next week. i hate it here. also for @\megistusdiary and @\servalisms who feed me so well <333 love you guys. anyways, following the same concept as the first part here, this is some time after Reader and Arlecchino has made the contract. What do you guys think about this series? Future edit: It's gonna be a blurb, I say. It'll be less than 1k I say. *Looks at the time.* It's 3AM and the finished product is 2.2k words. Again. How do I do this to myself. I'm not calling this a oneshot though because not my greatest quality. Content Warning: Suggestive. semi-graphic descriptions of violence Series Masterlist

It's funny, really, having a demon as your butler. You could never imagine yourself as the type of person to even consider such a notion, and you certainly were not a believer of the supernatural either. Of course, beliefs change and so do mindsets; after all, your worldview was shattered with one singular event. It is that catalyst that has led you down this path. You used to believe that revenge was just a trope, an exaggerated manifestation of pettiness but as you feel it pump through your blood and inject in its veins, revenge is so very palpable. And with the contract, it's graspable, within your reach. It's like a dessert, waiting to be devoured after the main course. And like a dessert, however, in order to really savor it, one must be patient.

It has led you to this point. To a ball, specifically. The preparations have all been laid out, and you know what you your goal from this event is. The only thing left to do is to prepare the final touches and carry out the plan.

For all your meticulous planning, you don't expect yourself to be hindered before you had even gotten to the event. And defeated by a corset dress of all things. You couldn't extend your arms anymore to reach the strings behind your dress. Of course, you have other dresses, but none were as suitable for this event besides this one; this dress is made especially to carry secret compartments for weapons, a feature that none of your other apparels have.

"Arlecchino," you call out to your butler, and within a moment, the air of the room grew considerably colder, alerting you of the demon's sudden appearance. The abrupt chill invokes a chill down your spine and you let out a breathy exhale as you gazed at the mirror in front of you, and could see your servant's form just behind you, her height towering over you. On her face is the usual subtle smirk when she's with you and her red pupils gleamed just slightly.

"You look beautiful, my Lady," she greets with a low drawl although you knew it was out of politeness than admiration. Her irises burn as you could feel it traverse over your exposed back and you can barely suppress the goosebumps that her gaze provoked.

"I didn't summon you here to ogle me, Arlecchino," you say, maintaining a cool tone despite the warmth that bloomed over your bare skin, pricking your senses. A low rumble comes from the being and she leans forward placing her icy black hands over your naked shoulders, fingertips running across the surface smoothly as it slowly nears your collarbone. Her face nears your left ear, her breath cascading against your earlobe.

"Of course. It was simply an observation, my Lady. But, dare I say, you look simply ravishing." The demon whispers against the shell of your ear, her voice adorning the smallest bit of allure in it, and her hands suddenly grip your shoulders as she emphasizes the last word, then relaxing a moment later. Your inhale hitches but no other reaction is displayed outwardly.

"The strings, Arlecchino," you instruct as a distraction away from the soft flaring of your cheeks.

A brief pause as you observe through the mirror the gleam of mischief in the demon's black pits, and her hands move down your shoulder, only the pads of her fingers brushing ghosting over your shoulder blades and yet it feels like the heat from the contact drips down onto your skin. It's a lagging pace, deliberate and feather light as it finally reaches the farthest down string. Prodding fingers caress against your back as she begins maneuvering the strings masterfully, each graze seemingly lingering as it seems like she takes every opportunity to memorize the texture of you on her fingertips. When her painstaking process draws close to its end, she ties the strings together, making it tight enough to make you groan and arch your back from the sting. When you do, she traces a finger up the curvature of your spine.

"Arlecchino," you chastise with a shuddering breath. Hands find themselves on your hips, clawed fingertips faintly digging into you and you're suddenly pulled to her being, chest meeting against your spine.

"You can't possibly fault me for my behavior when you're far too delectable, can you?" She voices against your nape, cold lips just barely hovering over it while you feel hot air stroke against your hair. You shudder. A small ire wells up inside of you and you break from her grasp easily. 

“You know better than to fool around now of all times,” you huff irritably, before spinning around. “Now, are you dressed yet?” 

Your breathing halts once your eyes scan Arlecchino's body. Donning a midnight black tailcoat alongside matching slim trousers, a white button-collared dress shirt with scarlet ruffled cuffs, and finally, a simple jet black necktie. It is not very different compared to her usual apparels, and yet your sight cannot help but stagger over her. She's devilishly handsome, you begrudgingly admit to yourself, objectively pleasant to your view. You get the sense something is missing from her appearance, however, perhaps a mark of yours on her neck. You bite your tongue in reprimand to suppress any more carnal thoughts and you shift your focus away.

“Is it to your liking, my Lady?” A smug smile graces her kissable lips. 

“It's appropriate enough. You're missing something,” You reply back cooly, and you dig around the nearby drawers for the items you search for. Upon finding them, you find ebony gloves and then promptly fling them at the demon's face. They hit squarely, and slide off her mildly shocked expression with a comical, slow pace. It gives you more satisfaction than it should.  

“There,” you remark with a blank expression but a tone matching her prior pomposity. “I suppose you're presentable as my servant now.” 

You brush past her, comforted by the fact her eyes follow your form with each step. 

—

Upon arrival at the ball, it's nearly overwhelming–chatter fills the room and surrounds you at every angle, suffocating you under the noise of whispered gossip. A suited server comes up to you with a glass of some presumed luxurious beverage, no doubt costing a ludicrous amount. You swivel the untouched drink in your hand as you survey other guests, searching for a particular face in general. Arlecchino should be doing something similar right now, if she hasn't already found her target. 

The person you're looking for is no longer to be found, at least in your approximate vicinity. You grind your teeth together and your hand bunches the fabric of your dress in a fist. An advancing man steps into view and strolls towards you, confidence and snobbery exuding from his walking. 

“Would you like a dance, my Lady?” 

You can't help but cringe at the addressment, the term sounding only right from one particular individuial's tongue. But nonetheless, a cordial smile masks your disgust and you agree to it, letting the man lead you to a slow, and quite frankly, boring waltz. His movements are just flamboyanes to cover up his sloppy movements, and it only makes you wonder how a demon can so masterfully practice an art made by humans. During the dance, you try to fish him out of any useful information, but the daft male is incapable of doing anything besides leering at you. 

You could feel at the back of your neck someone else's stare–one that kindles like the flames of hell. You smirk to yourself. Maybe you can use her gaze, taunt her through this. You lean ever so closer, lurching forward to whisper something in his ear and you let his filthy hands wander your form a bit. 

When you finally part from him, enduring one last, disappointing dance, you say your farewells to him. Not out of respect as a dance partner but because you know his life will end in a few minutes. You only hope she remembers to dispose of the body and clean up the evidence. 

You find that she reappears by your side in less than fifteen minutes. It's cute that she does it when you're not in the vicinity, like you don’t already know what she did. How fortunate for you that you've already isolated yourself to a lone balcony when she finds you. Otherwise, people may accuse the two of you as undignified lovers.  

Shortly afterwards, the two of you return to the main location of the ball, and again, you're in search of a certain man. Arlecchino has yet been successful in finding her target and you wander the dance floor once again, though this time, you decline any dance requests. 

Your gaze follows that of a group of men eyeing something, and you trace for what they're looking at. With great irritance, you discover it's the demon that they’re leching over. Something ugly coils in the pit of your stomach, an ugly sensation filling your being the longer you watch their gaze, like a feeling that what they are coveting after is one of your belongings. 

“Arlecchino,” you softly gruff under your breath. You observe from across the large room that her head perks up immediately, reminiscent of how a dog would when its name is called, and without even looking, she steers through the sea of ball-goers towards your direction. 

When she’s finally in front of you, there's an aggravating, knowing grin that Arlecchino fails to hide. “Yes, my Lady?”  

You reach out to tug her necktie to you like a leash and she compliantly lets you pull her face towards you. 

“If people keep leering at you like that, they'll become an inevitable hindrance,” you lie straight through your teeth, hating the way her eyes crinkle in amusement as she sees right through you. The two of you know you're lying.  

“And what are you going to do about it, my Lady?” You should order her to wipe that complacent sneer off of her face, shouldn't you? 

“This,” you give her neck time a harsh yank and your lips brush against her neck, teeth biting her skin and your tongue lapping at the bite mark. It's a quick, stinging action that makes the demon grunt lowly but she's yet to pull away. She wouldn't dare to, not without your instructions. 

You pull away only after a few moments because it's not a mark made out of passion or affection. It’s a mark made out of desperation, out of possessiveness, to remind those who she belongs to and who can touch her. 

“Don't you dare hide it,” you demand, indignation creeping up your words. You release her, and she simply nods, her gloved fingers dabbing the mark. Walking away, you feel strangely content–what was missing from Arlecchino's appearance is there now. 

You call for her one last time during the ball. When you've led the man you were searching for into a private guest room, and you loosen his lips with the suggestiveness of your actions and the alcohol you slip in his hands. The information that spews out to you is useless, the furthest thing to what you desire even when you’ve pushed yourself far past what you'd like. He simply doesn't have what you want, you frustratingly recognize. You've let this man undress you until you're nearly half-naked for nothing. 

At the moment you acknowledge that this entire venture to this ball was for naught, you kick the disgusting man in the face, hard enough to hear a crunch underneath your heel and in his clutched hands, his broken nose bleeds. You sigh and start redressing yourself, thankful at least you didn't allow him to derobe you any further while he chucks insolent expletives and meaningless threats at you. He dares to reach out his hand for you with your back against him and it is then you mutter her name.

“Arlecchino.”

And like every time, she materializes right where you want her to, in between you and the vermin, blocking you from his sight. 

“Yes, my Lady?” She purrs as the man sputters out in shock, tumbling back.

You don't even look over your shoulder to give a command, instead, opting to fix your hair. “Dispose of him.”

There's no need for you to watch the bloodbath. You're familiar with how she kills now. It lasts no more than a few seconds and when you smell soot, you know she's done. You turn around, the last few embers of his body dissipating in the air. There's no remnants of him anymore, the room is spotless clean, except for the smear of blood on her cheek. 

“Don't you demons know how to clean yourselves?” You chastise with an exasperated click of your tongue and extend your hand, your thumb wiping the crimson droplet from her face and then guiding your thumbpad to her lips. Her tongue darts out, and laps up the last trace of him with a deliberate swipe. 

It ignites a blaze in your chest and your heart drums. 

“Take me home, Arlecchino. We're done here.” 

“Of course, my Lady.” 

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact fic #genshin fics #arlecchino #genshin arlecchino #genshin impact arlecchino #arlecchino smut #edgeray.writes #edgeray.blog

[crabdrabbles]

Graves + Shadows Headcanons Part 3 [Part 1] [Part 2] Words: 766

Praise for DAYS. Did Shadow 5-8 get a good shot on the target? Punch in the shoulder at the end of the mission and a bright grin “That’s what I’m talkin’ about, 5-8!”, 

“Atta’girl, 6-12, I couldn’t’ve done that better myself.”

“Keep it up, 10-4!” Reaches over and brings them into a side hug and ruffles their hair like a proud dad. 

Coming back to Graves having a lot of respect for his soldiers, remember that scene in SWCW where it's like

"We're clones, sir, we're meant to be expendable..." "Not to me."

Yeah that's Graves.

He has kept every set of dog tags that belonged to Shadows that died during missions. They’re kept locked away in a box, safely tucked away.

A lot of Shadows were previously mercenaries, even criminals, but they are good at what they do which is why they get hired in the first place. Not to mention that Graves sees hiring them as a way to give them a second chance at life. 

Shepherd has learnt that the way to make Graves do what he wants is by threatening his Shadows. He could very easily dissolve the entire company in a day and expose Graves for technically harbouring wanted criminals.  

Yes, Shepherd called him a ‘dog with a bone’, but he’s more like a Dragon with a hoard. His hoard being his soldiers.

Some rando who was visiting the base once snapped at a Shadow, calling them a ‘stupid fucking mercenary’. That was his mistake when Graves had to be restrained by 3 of his own men. 

“What the fuck did you just say to them? You’d best walk outta my base before I make you leave in a goddamn body bag!”

As shown above, he goes absolutely feral if someone ever insults any of his soldiers.

“Be quiet, sergeant, your betters are talking.” Said some hoity Commander who hasn’t stepped foot in a battlefield in over a decade. Suddenly, it feels like all the air in the room has been sucked out like a vacuum. All eyes go to Graves as he glares long and hard at the man. 

“Apologise. Now.” “What–” “I said: apologise, ‘fore I show you my own version of ‘southern hospitality’.”

Compulsory language lessons. Every Shadow has to know at least 2 languages, English and another language of their choosing. Missions sometimes rely heavily on communication, so fluency in different languages is important.

Graves knows several languages himself, but his pronunciation is downright awful. Sometimes he makes his accent worse because it’s funny watching the horror in people’s eyes when he speaks. 

One of his Shadows has a tendency of crawling around in the vents in the base and because he’s not really harming anyone, Graves lets him do as he pleases. Because of the habit, however, and the fact he’s somehow able to go around almost silently through the metal vents, he’s earned an affectionate nickname amongst the Shadows; Roach. 

Graves doesn’t get along with family. Don’t get him wrong, he has some semblance of respect for his Momma cause she taught him good manners and other things like how to cut hair and how to cook a hearty meal for 12 people, but she was a narcissistic bitch when it came down to it and he took a lot of pleasure cutting her out of his life the second he was able to. 

He never met his father, and doesn’t much care for him, either. 

Paid leave/Holidays? Check. Paternity/Maternity leave? Check. Bed ed and board? Check. Medical and dental plan? You know it. Any possible benefit that can come with a job, being a Shadow has. 

No matter what they’re doing, if Graves does a run up to them, they will always catch their Commander. 

Is the first or last port of call when a fight/argument breaks out. It depends on how out of hand it's gotten in the space of about 15 minutes. Usually people don’t want to interrupt whatever the Commander’s doing and invoke his wrath.

“They started it!” “Well I’m endin’ it!”

Has the type of authority that if he were to suddenly yell at a recruit “Drop it. Now!” Everyone in earshot would absolutely drop whatever they were holding even if the comment wasn’t directed at them. 

There’s a Shadow that’s the largest of the entire company– but he is the biggest scaredy cat and coward anyone has ever met, which makes people wonder why he’s even in Shadow Company. The reality is that, despite being a coward, he’s damn intimidating. Perfect for him to shadow hover behind Graves during mission briefs and so forth.

have a request? send one in!

#//i have brainrot #//did i fit roach in here? you're goddamn right i did #phillip graves #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 3 #shadow company #mw2 #mw3 #mwii #mwiii #cod headcanons #gary roach sanderson

[bookish-whore]

Falling Part V

Azriel x Reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: slight self-destructive behavior, angst, Azriel being a dumb male

A/N: Not gonna lie guys when I initially wrote this chapter, I had the worst writers block and I ended up deleting it all last night and starting it over (which produced this) but I am so excited with where its headed. This chapter is somewhat filler content, but I promise I am putting some things into motion for later! I know I write this literally every fic, but I appreciate you all so much for loving this story and I am so overwhelmed with the support it has gotten. My requests are open so feel free to send all the asks <3

Also, I am almost at 400 followers WHAT?! And I think I’ll do a little personal Q&A or something so you guys can get to know me a little bit <3 I’ll update you in a post soon!

Previous parts here -> Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV

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

Last night seemed like a dream.

I woke up to bright light streaming through my window, my indication that the sun was already high in the sky. I guess I had slept far longer than I meant to. I stretch out my limbs, the events of last night returning to my memory as I looked at my night table where I had conveniently placed Iremia. I remembered then that it was real. Azriel and Elain were engaged. Engaged. I bring my hands to rub the sleep from my eyes, dragging them down my face and letting out a sigh. I could stay in bed all day and wallow in self-pity, but I decided that I wouldn’t continue to let them have so much control over my life, I would continue to heed Nesta and Lucien’s advice. With that decided, I take a quick bath and get dressed before heading to the dining room to find something to eat.

I entered the room surprised to find Nesta sitting in her usual position, Cassian next to her holding her hand and rubbing gentle circles along the back of it while they spoke.

“Good morning” I announce as I take my seat across from them

“Morning y/n” Cassian says while piling more food onto his plate

“So?” Nesta asked as I piled eggs, bacon, and bread with jam on my plate.

“So?” I repeat back to her, I know that she wants details about last night but I’m going to at least make her be direct about it.

“How did it go?” She clarifies, at this Cassian looks between the two of us clearly also wanting to hear the details.

“I couldn’t do it Nes, not after the announcement” she rolled her eyes but let me continue “It’s just the timing didn’t seem right, and I know I know you’re going to say the timing will never be right, but Nes you didn’t see him. He looked so happy, so carefree, and the last thing I wanted to do was ruin it by dropping this bombshell on him.”

“Look y/n, I love you and I will support you with whatever you decide to do.”

“I feel like a -but- is coming” I interject

“but-” she continues with one of her signature looks. “Don’t you think it would be worse to wait? That it will only be a bigger deal if they actually go through with getting married? Maybe it would hurt everyone involved less if you told them before planning and preparations are made? I mean he deserves to make an informed decision about what to do about the bond”

“I don’t know Nes.” I look to Cassian who is silently eating his breakfast “wait a second- what do you mean actually go through with getting married? Do you think they won’t go through with it?”

“All I know is that Feyre and Rhys are preparing for the worst-case scenario. I mean she is a mated female and if Lucien wanted to, he could invoke a blood duel as per Autumn Court tradition. Not to mention tension among the courts is still fragile after the treaty business last year.”

“Lucien wouldn’t do that; he doesn’t see mated females as his property in that way.” I said “Also, he isn’t technically an Autumn Court male anymore. He is the high lord apparent of the Day Court.”

“Regardless of his court standing, he is still her mate. He also has the strongest of relationships with the human realm and I don’t know if Rhys and Feyre are prepared to lose an asset like him due to Elain’s need to rebel.” She said matter of factly.

“What do you think Cass?” I asked the male.

He went still a moment, his brows furrowing as though he was debating what exactly to say in this situation. “I think that Nes has a point, I mean the longer you wait the more people may get hurt by the news and I think that he deserves to know; he has been infatuated with the idea of mates since we were younger and I don’t know what changed his mind, but I think he is just looking for commitment and Elain is looking to rebel, and they just found each other. I also stand by my previous statement during training, I love him dearly, he is my brother, but gods damn is he an idiot sometimes.”

I can’t help but laugh at his statement. “I’ll consider it” I look between the two of them “I promise I will think about it, and I’ll talk to Rhys and Feyre to see what they think.”

The couple nodded as we continued with breakfast. We switched the conversation to training and general news. Once we had finished, we went our separate ways. I thought a lot about what they had said and sent a note to find the high lord and lady and ask for their advice with this whole thing. I immediately got a response that appeared in Rhysand’s elegant script offering to winnow me to the River House this afternoon to meet them in his office. I immediately accepted sending the magical paper back to its sender and decided to indulge myself in a book until the meeting time.

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

I hadn’t realized how many hours had passed until the high lord materialized in the library. I put my book on a nearby table and offered a simple greeting. Rhys held out his arm which I took without hesitation, the familiar pulling sensation taking over as we winnowed directly to the high lord’s office. When we arrived, I turned to find Feyre entering the room with Nyx. The little prince reaching his arms out. I hadn’t noticed before, but his wings were getting stronger, and he was gaining some control over them as he flapped them in an attempt to launch himself into his father’s waiting arms.

“Hey y/n” the high lady said handing Nyx to her mate who beamed at the boy now securely in his embrace.

“So, to what do we owe the pleasure” Rhysand asked, Feyre simply nodded in agreement.

“Well, you know that I love you both, and that I value your opinion.” The two nodded listening intently “After Solstice, after the engagement, I think I am just looking for some advice about what to do about Azriel. You know whether I should still tell him about the bond or just leave it alone. I talked to Cassian and Nesta earlier and now I’m asking you what you think.”

The two look at each other, silently communicating as they tended to do. Feyre was the one to speak “You know I love my family; I love both of my sisters but there are just so many logistics involved with this whole union. I mean you are Azriel’s mate whether you tell him and whether or not he accepts it and the same goes for Elain, she is welcome to reject the bond with Lucien but to me it seems like she is just running away from the idea altogether.” She took a breath “and Lucien, I mean he is not only my friend but also an ally of this court and he has every right to invoke the blood duel should he want to. its just spiraled, the whole thing from a harmless flirtation to a disaster.” She looked at her mate who gave her a nod of approval.

“Look you two, I don’t know where this idea came from that Lucien is going to challenge Az but he isn’t an Autumn Court male anymore and finds the blood duel repulsive and when has he given any indication that he would do something like that. When he got to the night court, he let Elain have her space and he hasn’t pushed the bond on her. He’s never tried to force anything on her, and he wouldn’t now just because they are engaged.”

“You have a valid point” Feyre said “But the whole reason you came here was to ask our opinion on your situation. I think both Rhys and I agree that you should still tell him. I mean had he not proposed, you would have told him at the solstice party. We think that he deserves to have all the information before he makes a big decision like this, like marriage.”

I nod my head as she speaks, her words echoing that of Cassian and Nesta’s from this morning. “I guess I have a lot to think about”

“Look, no matter what happens just know we are here for you to help you through this” Rhysand says breaking his silence.

“I’m scared” I admit to them

“Well look at it this way” Feyre begins “at least you will be the one to tell him and not a Suriel” she gives Rhys a mischievous look as he grins

“I was going to tell you…eventually” he said “The Suriel just got to you first AND I was gravely injured if you recall”

Feyre let out a laugh, pressing a kiss to his lips and to Nyx’s forehead. “I think it is all going to work out y/n”

I let out a long breath “Okay, well now that that is settled, hand me that baby because I need time with my nephew”

Rhys grins handing Nyx to me, I bounce the babe on my knees and enjoy some family time with the three of them for the remainder of the night.

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

It had been a month since my conversations with Nesta and Feyre about what to do and I was still no closer to a decision. I had even gone as far as making pro and con lists which were scattered across my desk with various reasons why I should tell him, and why I shouldn’t. Reason number one being that they seemed so happy. Just yesterday they had announced that they intended to marry a week after Starfall, which was only a few months away.

I continued thinking about my reasons as I got ready for the day. I was going to be helping Gwyn with research in the library today. I had to admit I was excited to spend the day surrounded by books and to be around Gwyn, I had been so busy with the new developments with Azriel that I had neglected time with my friend, and I intended to make up for it.

I was putting on my shoes in a chair in the corner of my bedroom when I heard a rustling on my desk. I looked over as a letter appeared on top of a pile of other correspondence, my name scrawled across the front with handwriting I immediately recognized. I jumped up from my position taking the letter in my hands as I tore open the envelope and couldn’t help the smile on my face as I read it.

My Dearest Y/N,

I hope you are doing well. I have found myself missing your company in the past weeks since my relocation to my father’s court. I have been keeping busy, learning the history of the court, and enjoying the vast library, it really is unmatched. I think you would love it. No, I know you would love it here. Anyways, what updates do you have from the Night Court? I take it everyone is well. I’m sure it has been hard on you these weeks since the engagement and I want to remind you that you have a friend, a friend who happens to know exactly what you’re going through and one that has come to care greatly for you. please remember that you always have a place in my court should you need to escape.

Yours,

Lucien

I made myself a mental note to send a response as I checked the time realizing I was late and made my way downstairs to the library.

I was immediately greeted by Gwyn, the red head smiling at me in one of her big genuine smiles, her eyes sparkling with the gesture, and she pulled me into a tight hug. “Oh, I have missed you so much y/n” she says

“I missed you too Gwyn”

“Okay you have so much to catch me up on” she says practically bouncing with excitement over our girl talk today which we did between tasks for Clotho and finding some research for another priestess Gwyn is helping. I told her everything, I needed another opinion about what to do from someone not currently in a mating bond. Someone who might understand my reservations a little better.

“How do you feel about it all?” she asks as we work on reshelving books in the lower levels.

“I feel…” I take a breath “I don’t know I guess I feel conflicted, on one hand I want him to know maybe for my own benefit, but I mean is it fair of me to just make this choice for him? What if he feels like Elain? Like the bond is a burden he wants to run from? I don’t know if I can deal with that kind of rejection. On the other hand, I don’t tell him and continue my life like it is now and let him continue his life that he chose with Elain but what if one day it snaps for him and he wants to explore it, but they have a life, maybe a family? I am just confused and scared, and I don’t know what to do. The consensus has been that I need to tell him and that’s what I am leaning towards, but I just don’t know Gwyn.”

“I think that the only person who can decide what to do is you.” the priestess says “I mean you get all this advice about what’s fair for him. But what is fair to you?”

I was pondering over her words when suddenly a note materialized on the cart. I recognized the script immediately and for a moment I forgot how to breathe.

Meet me on the roof

-Az

“What do you think he wants?” I ask

“Only one way to find out” she says “I think you should figure out what you want y/n, I think you two should figure out if you’re even compatible before you decide. Maybe spend time with him without the influence of other people, just you two to see how you interact. Maybe it’ll help you to make your decision. Remember that mating bonds were initially put in place by the mother for prime breeding benefits, we live in a modern world and maybe it’s an antiquated concept now”

“Thanks Gwyn” I said pulling the female into another hug “I guess I have somewhere to be”

“Good luck” she says disappearing behind a bookshelf, continuing with her work. I take a deep breath and make my way upstairs.

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

I couldn’t help the thoughts running through my head as I made my way up to the roof, the most dominant one being what If he knows. I try to not look concerned as I open the door, the sunlight catching me off guard for a moment as I make out his figure in our usual spot, sitting on the edge of the roof with his legs dangling over the side. His wings looking powerful and poised behind him.

His shadows immediately slither over to greet me, as they do, he turns from his position to look at me approaching. “Hey y/n” he says patting the empty space next to him.

I carefully set myself down beside him, hoping he can’t hear how loud my heart is beating. After a moment of silence, I manage to say “So, why did you ask me here?”

“To be honest…I’m not really sure” He says “I feel like you are one of the only people I can really talk to you know. The others, I love them, and they are my family, but I know they don’t approve of me right now.”

“Don’t approve of you why?”

“I know they have reservations about me and Elain. I mean months ago Rhys cornered me in his office and basically told me to stay away from her, and now we’re engaged. I know he and Feyre are probably figuring out the logistics of it all, you know because she is mated to Lucien.”

“I may have heard something like that from them.” I say “Can I just ask you why, if you know how your family feels and you have these reservations then why go through it”

“I think I’m in love with her”

“This seems like a lot of trouble for you think, I mean if you are going to vow to spend your life with someone shouldn’t you know you love them?” I asked him.

“I think that conversation we had a few weeks ago has really stuck with me, you know about mates. I can’t help but feel nostalgic. I spent hundreds of years certain I would find my mate and then I gave up on it and decided to try things with Elain and maybe I feel guilty. Because if I were in Lucien’s position, I would hate the male and I would be in absolute hell watching my mate fall in love with and intend to marry someone else.”

“I know Lucien doesn’t hate you, he may dislike you because of his instincts but he trusts Elain to make her own decisions. He would never force her to accept the bond or choose him unless it is what she truly wanted.”

“You talk with Lucien?” he asks, looking over at me, his eyes meeting mine.

“Of course, I mean we’re friends and have been for some time now”

“I guess I didn’t notice”

“There are a lot of things you don’t notice” I say quietly under my breath.

“What was that?” he asks

“Oh nothing” I reply, “but Az if you feel guilty you can pull out you know. You don’t have to go through with any of this if you feel that way.”

“I know, its just” he pauses taking a deep breath “I don’t think anyone else would love me, maybe this is it. Maybe this is my one chance at some kind of happiness”

“I don’t think the universe works that way Az” he looks at me “Besides there are plenty of people who love you, myself included”

“I know that y/n, I just feel like I’m making a huge mistake, every instinct is screaming that this is wrong, and I can’t shake it.”

“I should give you Iremia, seems like you could use the tranquility” I say jokingly

“That’s what you named it? The dagger?” he asked

I nod my head in confirmation “Yeah, I figured I could use a little calm in my life so why not”

“It’s a great name” he says.

“Look Az, maybe you should call off the wedding if you are having these doubts. No one would blame you for taking the time to think about it, this is the rest of your life you are talking about, and you should be sure you want to spend it with Elain. Especially if you’re having such strong doubts.”

“I just don’t want to hurt anyone” he says softly

“I know the feeling” I say bringing my eyes down to look at my hands.

“Y/n?” he says my name softly, almost a whisper and I turn my head to face him. He is looking at me and his eyes met mine, and I noticed them drift lower before his gaze is resting on my lips. My breath became caught in my throat. Was he going to kiss me? I thought as his mouth parted slightly, his breath becoming uneven as he began to lean into me.

“Az?” A soft voice said interrupting the moment.

“Elain” he said quickly, practically jumping away from me and making his way over to her placing a kiss to her temple “What are you doing up here?” he asked her.

“We have dinner plans…remember?” she replied, “I figured I would save you a trip by coming here.” She looked over at me, I was rising from the mat “Hello y/n” she said politely

I immediately felt embarrassed and fought the redness rising on my face as I gave her a nonchalant greeting back.

“Thanks for the talk y/n” Azriel says “I’ll see you in training tomorrow”

I give them both a small smile as they depart his shadows swirling as he winnows them away. The conversation runs over again in my head. Did he suspect something? Was he going to kiss me? Would I have let him?

I make my way downstairs to my room to change before dinner with the Inner Circle, minus Elain and Azriel who apparently had other plans for the evening. My thoughts no clearer than they were this morning.

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

Once bathed and changed I made it to the dining room to find it already full of people. Nesta and Cass were in their usual seats as were Feyre, Rhys, Nyx, Mor, and even Amren to my surprise. I took up my seat across from Nesta and began to fill my plate.

The conversation was normal, mostly updates about Nyx and about the Valkyries training about new developments in the Hewn city and general news. Until Feyre cleared her throat drawing my attention. “So, y/n, what is new on the Azriel front?” she tried to sound nonchalant about it, but the air was thick with tension.

“Here we go” I said rolling my eyes as I prepared for the same speech I had gotten for weeks from them about how I needed to do the right thing and tell him and basically just get it over with.

“Clearly you have all made your opinions on the matter known. So why don’t you all just tell me what to do.” I look around the room meeting their gaze, my tone elevating as I continued “If anyone has an idea of how I should better deal with this please let me know because I feel like I am losing my mind.” My voice breaks but I take a deep breath and continue. “I know what you all think about it, but it isn’t your decision to make. If and when I tell him about this it will be on MY terms.”

“We just want to help you” Feyre says softly.

“As if any of you can help me, as if any of you can fathom what it’s like. Except you Rhys, but only briefly because it worked out in your favor. What would you all suggest I do hmm? Oh, wait you have all already told me what you think. Why do I need to rush and make a decision like this just because you all have an opinion about it?”

“y/n-” Nesta begins, but I cut her off.

“Because on one hand, I tell him about the bond and ruin any chance of happiness he has built for himself. On the other I don’t say a word, and one day the bond may snap for him, and he resents me for not telling him. Oh, and not to mention the other important piece here, Elain. You all would have me be the villain that steps in to ruin her wedding, to ruin a choice she made, a choice they both made. I can’t do that. No, actually I won’t do that.”

“But y/n-” Cassian began

“There is no but, that is all there is to it Cass. Either way I lose” the others look down at their hands, mulling over what I said.

“I’m going to bed” I announce, getting up from the table and making my way to my bedroom. I hear their hushed voices arguing as I make my way up the stairs, I do my best to block it out.

Once making it to my room, I close the door softly behind me and make my way to my desk. I take deep steadying breaths trying to ignore the feeling of being suffocated, of being forced into something so serious. I turn my head and catch a glimpse of Lucien’s last letter. I look it over again, suddenly getting an idea.

I grab a piece of parchment, and a pen and scrawl out a quick reply before losing my nerve.

Dearest Lucien,

I am doubtful of my ability to remain here surrounded by happy mated couples. Watching Elain and Azriel plan their wedding is torture. Getting advice from people who know nothing of what I am going through is torture and to be honest I miss you more than I can express. So, how soon can I visit? I feel that some time away would do me good. I need to figure out what my life is without him, who I am without him. Perhaps you can help with that.

Yours,

Y/N

Next Chapter ->

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

If you want to be added to my taglist let me know!

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

Taglist: @moonfawnx @we-were-beautiful @96jnie @frgman-sins @fromdelos @goldentournesol @ruler-of-hades @mrs-azriel @feyretopia @starlit-terror @daily-dose-of-sass @mulansaucey @owllover123 @redbleedingrose @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @luna-1-3-5 @marigold-morelli @topaz125 @aelinismyqueen @elizarikaallen @clueless-gold @starrstrucked @em---r @satellitesunshine @bankerfrog @strawbwebbie @morks-watermelon @kristalhi @lolabell0556 @intrxde @aubreylovesthegames @xxoverthinkerxx @caosfanblr @mis-lil-red @haswellington @wolfyland07 @answer-the-sirens @kaz-2y567 @marssssaturn @judig92 @esposadomd @violet-shadows @meghan52300 @biblophilefox82 @issybee0611 @writingsbychlo

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #cassian x nesta #lucien x reader #feyre x rhysand #falling #bookish-whore

[extralively]

Yura's second apartment

So let's get into Yura's second apartment! She moved into it in late 2012 after saving up enough money for it (even a third grade sorcerer gets paid fairly well, as it turned out), and slowly went about furnishing it.

...Granted, Satoru helped, whether Yura liked it or not. After she moved in, he bought her a whole ass couch (it's very comfortable so Yura only grumbled a bit about it), and then a new TV after they tried watching a movie on her old one (see her first apartment) and he complained that it was too small. Over the years, he also kept giving her stuff, like a blu-ray player, a dishwasher (after that one Christmas), that living room rug, some plants, and just a bunch of random (but expensive) knickknacks to fill her apartment with. Thank God she has a decently-sized apartment now!

It's definitely an upgrade from her last one! I mean, technically it should be a little narrower (again, I have to stick to TS4's grid), but this is pretty much it.

(More pics of it under the cut!)

So let's take a look at the living room/kitchen:

This area is pretty spacious, and Yura didn't quite know how to furnish it so some parts seem a little empty. She actually likes it that way though, after living her whole life in cramped rooms, and she's actually started owning quite a few things now that she has the space.

Her kitchen in particular has gotten quite a bit of use: thanks to Tsumiki's initiative, Yura now occasionally bakes with the younger girl there (especially for Valentine's Day). She also started experimenting with some cooking herself, but she mostly sticks to cooking basic stuff.

On that table by the window, in particular, is where she keeps her photo frames. The first one is a picture of the Tokyo team during their second Goodwill Event after they won (it was a happy moment and a certain someone who shall not be named was not present, thus no bad memories were invoked). The second one is of her and Yaga when she got her third grade certification, with Yura looking quite proud of herself over her first (and only) jujutsu promotion. Then there's one with her and Shoko singing karaoke during one of Yura's birthdays, then one with her, Satoru and the Fushiguros on their trip to Tokyo Disneyland in 2009 (they're all wearing those matching Mickey ears), and the last one is the most recent one from their trip to Osaka in 2016. Basically, all of her good memories are here.

This here is Yura's bathroom! I had initially envisioned it as a regular western-style bathroom where everything is in one room, but then I started looking at some Japanese apartments layouts and this definitely seems to be more common over there.

You can see that Yura actually has a bunch of beauty and bath products scattered around and, to be honest, that's mostly Satoru's doing (he likes to gift her expensive stuff). Yura also turned out to be not the most organized person around, so her things are just kinda thrown about now that she has enough space for it lol

The actual shower room should also be a littler narrower, and the tub should also be smaller--because that's the one Satoru keeps calling a teeny tiny bathtub! The bathtub should actually look something like this:

It's small, but big enough for some... fun times (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

And finally, Yura's bedroom!

She and Satoru have definitely spent a good amount of time in here, if you know what I mean (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Also, one of her dresser drawers is definitely all Satoru's clothes at this point.

There's only one bedside lamp because she figured buying two would be a waste (...she used to be the only one sleeping there), and her desk is usually cluttered with curse files and reports if she's working on a case. She doesn't dress up much so she doesn't usually feel the need for a full-length mirror, but if she were to ever bring it up to Satoru he would definitely buy her one right away.

She also keeps a few random photos on this wall, mostly of her and Shoko doing girl stuff, the Fushiguros, and, of course, her and Satoru. This is also where she keeps the first photo strip she and Satoru took in that photo booth, while the second strip she keeps in her top desk drawer (she likes to keep it out of sight from prying eyes... but also somewhere she can easily access it, even if she won't admit it).

...Also she has a storage room by the entrance. It's just a bunch of stuff.

So this has been Yura's second (and current) apartment! Next up should be Satoru's, and oh boy. That one is big. We might have to do it in parts lol

#satoyura #I'VE BEEN HAVING TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS #and now you guys can see exactly what Yura's apartment looks like in my head lol #the sims 4

[ice-fire-or-clear]

Until We See The Sunlight

Natasha “Phoenix” Trace x f!Reader

Word count: 766

A/N: Hello have a fun little idea that’s been bouncing around my head for a couple of weeks now! It’s short but cute I think!

masterlist

CW: None :)

Somewhere, tucked away under the layers of clothing or books or operating manuals that often adorn Natasha Trace’s personal space, there’s a sheet of letter paper, faded yellow with time and perfectly folded into thirds. The creases have been well worn in with use, and the edges had lost their crispness over the years. Few people even know of its existence; Phoenix really likes to keep some cards close to her chest.

It’s been with her through flight school, on aircraft carriers, at Top Gun. It’s been thousands of feet in the air and thousands of miles away from home. (She doesn’t really need it at home, though.)

Bob’s seen it, once or twice. Never what was actually inside, just enough to know that it exists and it means something. Once when it rested in the open second drawer in Phoenix’s dorm, bathed in the soft warm light of the bedside lamp and nestled safely on a pile of soft t-shirts. And once more, he saw it tucked safely in the left pocket on the inside of her flight suit as they were lining up for a mission. Bob’s never asked what it is, but he has a pretty good idea. Most people like to keep a piece of home close by, especially when they’re not sure they’ll ever see it again.

Phoenix is grateful for Bob’s silence. It’s not that she doesn’t trust her backseater, but there are some things that live best in the secrecy of your own mind. If she’s being honest with herself, she doesn’t even really need to read it anymore. She had it memorized years ago, and it’s more about the physical effect at this point anyways. The idea of having a piece of you near, something that you’ve touched, is usually enough to quell most homesickness and longing.

She opens it after the mission for the first time in months. She could feel it crinkling against her chest, her heart, as she threw the plane in every direction, the frame creaking around her and the comms ringing in her ears. It was the first time in a really, really long time that she thought she was actually going to die.

So, after the target is destroyed, and everyone makes it back, and she feels her throat constrict and her eyes sting in relief, because goddammit she had heard the comms go dead, heard them go down, she makes her way back to the showers, sits down on an empty bench in an empty row of lockers in an empty room, and pulls the letter out of her pocket. She runs her finger over the edges absentmindedly as she scans the page. Reading your handwriting is almost like hearing your voice, and this time, the tears actually do come. Instinctively, she holds the paper to her face, searching for the scent of your perfume though she knows it’s long since faded. She lets her eyes briefly drift over the enclosed polaroids, something she was exceedingly careful to keep to herself for lonely nights only.

She had originally received the letter several years ago, when she entered recruit training after graduating from the naval academy. It had been the first time the two of you had ever really been separated in the course of your young relationship. She remembered the overwhelming since of belonging and relief she felt when she finally, finally held you in her arms after completing boot camp. You had been grinning madly, tears streaming down your face, which only served to invoke waterworks from Natasha as well. You were so goddamn proud of her, looking at her like she had gone and hung the moon and stars. And at every milestone since then, career and otherwise, the look in your eyes had never faded, never wavered. It brought her great comfort to know that while the world had gotten bigger, scarier, more demanding, you had never changed in all the years you had been by her side.

Well, she considered, running her thumb over the signature at the bottom where you had signed your full name with a flourish, maybe something had changed. She brought her free hand up to the silver chain she wore around her neck, tugging on it to reveal the simple, solitaire band that had been hidden safely under her collar.

Soon enough, she would be able forget all about the letter for a few weeks. She would have the real thing in her arms, and there was no letter on earth that could ever do you, or her love for you, justice.

A/N: Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!!

#phoenix #natasha phoenix trace #phoenix x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #phoenix imagine #natasha phoenix trace imagine #natasha phoenix trace x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #imagine #x reader

[once-upon-an-animation]

Some thoughts on Trials of Apollo…

I’m rereading ToA since I don’t remember much. I like it better than HoO, but not as much as PJO. This may be either due to nostalgia, or just becoming more critical of Rick’s work over time. I think it’s the latter, as I’m also becoming more critical of the original series. Generally, I like how much research went into ToA, and I think Apollo is going to have a great arc. I love the inclusion of more minor gods too. I also like that the HoO characters are given to us in small doses, as I didn’t really care for most of them.

As for cons, I don’t like Meg that much. Her background is cool, but her personality is kind of annoying. I’m a little tired of the trope/pattern where most of the major female demigods are all tough, aggressive girls who regularly hit/are condescending towards their male counterparts. I think Hazel might have been the only exception? Anyhow, I would like to see more soft/gentle major female characters. The tough girl who looks down on her male companion is overdone. I also feel that Meg might be a little overpowered, but that’s just me.

I don’t mind that Percy and Annabeth take a backseat in this one, but Percy’s decision to do nothing does surprise me to an extent. I’ve always thought that fatal flaws were a lifetime thing, and given his flaw of personal loyalty, I feel like he should have shown more concern about the emperors and what it might mean for his friends. Maybe he ultimately decides to do nothing, but it would have been nice to see him grapple with the decision a bit more or show some regret/doubt in the his final scene with Apollo, just something to show that his flaw is still active.

I’ve always felt that Caleo was unnecessary, and was not all that happy to see them return in this series. Their relationship dynamic is kind of lame even for a couple that doesn’t even work that well together, so I genuinely do hope they break up. I liked Calypso more when we knew less about her; I don’t really love the way she was characterized in this series. Maybe it’s more of that tough condescending girl stuff that I’m tired of.

Jasper is a couple I also didn’t care for, but I have to admit, Piper’s reasons for breaking up with Jason don’t seem that convincing/seem a little contradictory. I don’t mind the breakup itself, I just wish the reasoning had been a little different or had been explained differently. The whole “Aphrodite kids are supposed to break hearts” thing felt silly and kind of negates the sentiments she had in TLH. Also, I wish Rick had let Piper explore her attraction to girls with a known character, not just a random mortal whom we know nothing about and literally exists to be a device. I’ve never liked “throwaway” relationships where major characters are involved, and Piper/Shel is no exception.

Jason’s fate invokes mixed feelings. On the one hand, it’s good for Apollo’s development and adds a sense of stakes to the story. On the other hand, depending on who you are, it may lack emotional weight. As we all know, Jason is not the most well loved character out there, and his introduction/arc in HoO is not what it could have been. As a result, Jason might lack meaning as a character for many, and his fate might not mean that much to some people. I’ve seen people argue that Rick chose this fate because he didn’t know what to do with Jason anymore, and I can see why people would say that. Jason was done a little dirty as a character from start to end and I think that’s the true tragedy.

I haven’t gotten to the book with Frank/Hazel, but I remember a little bit about what happens with Frank and his firewood and honestly? I feel like it was a little cheap. Frank should have either had the same fate as Jason, or should have paid some kind of price

#trials of apollo #toa #pjo hoo toa #rick riordan #percy jackson #annabeth chase #apollo #lester papadopoulos #meg mccaffrey #jason grace #piper mclean #leo valdez #calypso #anti caleo #anti rr #rr crit

[vermont-writes-fanfic]

Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing Chapter One (Alucard x Reader)

Request: No

Warnings: Mentions of violence (its Hellsing, what do you expect?), vampires, blood, cursing, weaponry, Alucard being an asshole, mentions of coffin/caskets, guns

Y/n

“Sir Integra, you must be joking, surely I’m not good enough to join the ranks alongside the Hellsing force!” I say, eyes wide at the proposal. Me, to join the ranks and officially work for Hellsing Organisation? I’ve never even held a gun before, never even gotten into a fight!

“Are you implying that I made an error in judgement by giving you such an opportunity?” She asks, a hint of challenge in her voice, daring me to step out of line.

“S-sir Integra…n-no of course not it’s just that I don’t want to disappoint you, or my father,” I reply, I could care less about disappointing her, it's my fathers reputation that is on the line if I am to be joining the organisation.

“Then it's settled. Alucard,” She calls that beast's name, and as if he was waiting=g her appears, walking through the wall, a twisted grin present on his face. He seems all too happy about this if you ask me.

“I am placing Walter’s daughter under your supervision. You did well in training Walter and you should see to it that you do the same with Y/n.” she continues, why am I to be put with him? Why not shadow my father and work in the estate? Why not at least with Garrison and his fellow men?

He looks towards me walking over and I clench my jaw, as much as I despise his kind, those human sized leeches, I can’t help but feel fear. Most of the vampires I’ve seen disgust me, they invoke rage…but he makes my blood run cold with a simple look. I hate that my hatred can not extend enough to make me glare at him as well. I can’t believe my father would even go along with this! Especially without talking to me!

“My, my, entrusting me with such a delicate specimen? If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were testing my resolve Master.” He comments, his look hidden behind the brim of his hat and the glasses he wears, “Are you sure?” he questions.

Sir Integra flicks her cigar into the ashtray before standing up and placing away some papers in a file, “It seems that everyone has taken to questioning me today, need I remind you who I am or are we done wasting time here with these silly questions?”

His lips twitch upwards as a low sound escapes him, a gloved hand taking my chin and forcing me to look up at him into those crimson eyes,”So you're The Angel of Death’s daughter, you look like a little lamb to me. Lost and afraid, are you lost little lamb?” I clench my fists at the mocking tone in his voice, he looks at me as if testing my reactions to his mockery. I maintain the intense eye contact, the opia of our locked gaze almost tangible enough to cut with a knife between us.

“Get your hand off me, you little pet.” I managed to get out, it's not as convincing as I would've liked it to sound but it got the point across. As his grip loosens I pull away from him and huff keeping my arms by my side lest they decide to make some unwise gestures towards the demon. As I turn my back on him I can hear him chuckle at my actions, he just loves to play those childish little games. Playing as if he didn’t know that I was my fathers daughter, all he does is tease and poke fun at me through the estate!

“Perhaps there is a wolf behind that innocent exterior of your little lamb,”

“My name is Y/n use-” I whip around to correct him but trail off seeing had already gone, with a sound of frustration I head to my chambers, unnecessarily slamming my door behind me and unceremoniously flopping onto my bed. I may feel an intense hatred for those overgrown leeches but I don’t aim to ever kill anyone! The thought always stirs something in the back of my mind and I equate it to fear. I may know many ways to hurt people, hell even to extract intel and body disposal methods, but I don’t want to hurt anyone. I take a few deep breaths and sit at the vanity by my bed to brush my hair, it always helps calm me down. As I brush, each stroke working out the knots and kinks within my hair, my mood improves. Perhaps it won’t be too bad, she never said I had to kill anyone, I could be working in intel recon, or a liason of sorts. The only bloodsucker I may encounter is Alucard. Just as I set my brush down a knock comes at my door.

“Go away leech, I want nothing to do with you and your little games today!” I don’t want to deal with him, not right now.

“Now I know I’ve raised you better than name calling, I thought I’d come by and ease your mind. Tea?”

My father asks, pouring himself a cup, I nod and he hands me my own just how I like it.

“Ease my mind? Funny how you think to talk to me now and not before making such a decision as me working for the Hellsing Organisation,” my voice comes out terse, my frustration from earlier boiling up.

“Well it was my intention to speak with you about it much earlier and come to a mutual agreement, but with Alucard and the rise in Vampires I haven't quite had the chance to help make a decision so Sir Integra made one for us I’m afraid,” he say taking a sip and sitting on the chair I was previously in as I move to sit on my bed.

“Did the thought ever cross your mind that maybe I didn't want to work here? I could be leading a normal life outside the estate right now, yet you have me confined within the walls of Sir Integra’s manor.” As I say this, his boot tip bumps into the cart causing a knife to fall off, without a second thought I swipe it up from the air and go to stab it into the cart. I take a pause, why was I going to stab the cart? Placing it down I turn to him for an answer.

“While this did occur to me, you never once complained of working anywhere else or wishing to leave. You very well could have, and it should be in your best interest to continue our tradition of serving the Hellsing Organisation. The Dornez have been doing it for years, your mother and I had an especially long go of it. I do not hold my title for killing dust bunnies about the estate,”

My eyes widen and I look up from my lap, “You killed people-vampires- too? And Mum as well?

“Many, your mother and I both have quite the streak of blood to our names. We knew Alucar then too. Your mother was an excellent snipper, I would string some of them up and she would pop off their heads one by one, the bulls had such a force that nothing was left, quite the mess we often made.”

Hearing him talk so fondly of memories of murder stirs that feeling in the back of my mind, but I don’t really feel afraid.

“And your mother she had quite the affinity for playing with her victims before being through with them, we’d let them loose in the basement and one at a time she would catch them and string them up in a nice little web, torture them in the most atrocious of ways and then finish them in the bloodiest of ways. Earned herself the name Black Widow, because the heads were always found missing.”

That feeling stirs rather violently this time as he tells me in detail an event one time my mother and he took part in, the worse it gets the more intently I listen. There isn’t a way in my mind that that feeling is fear, though now I don’t know what it is….

“But Dornez and your mothers family have been killers for years, though your mother always had a certain air about her with her craft. Enough of that now, rest well and I will show you your choices in weapons tomorrow,” He kisses my forehead and I nod as he leaves. The feeling swirling around in my mind seems to be fighting to the forefront, I change into a nightgown and hum to myself softly lulling myself to sleep.

I hope that whoever read this enjoyed it and don’t be shy to request a story of some sort! Have a wonderful day!

#hellsing #alucard #alucard x reader #alucard fanfiction #Walter Dornez #sir integra #anime fanifction #anime #seras victoria #x reader #alucard imagine

[katealpha]

Just as Sisu had done when she was coming back from a journey away from Heart, Raya had found herself sauntering down the bridge that led away from her home. With a hand under her belly and one upon her back for support, the princess truly was reduced down to an encumbered waddle. With one foot in front of the other, Raya groaned as a flurry of squirming wriggles jostled within the confines of her womb. Her constantly aching back didn’t help things either. The princess felt like she was carrying an overripe jackfruit in her belly, and it was sitting right in her pelvic region. A brief rub around the circumference of her gut was enough to keep them calm, especially in moments of exertion. She was a good mile away from her bedroom, and she hadn’t stopped for a moment in coming to the entrance of her land. She had something important to do.

The princess knew that she should be resting, but Raya was one to seldom listen to people. It was both a virtue and a flaw. It was tough to take advantage and control her, but there were times this had gotten her into trouble. Chief among those times invoked the very person Raya was waiting for: Namaari. The two princesses of neighboring lands had grown much closer since the time that they were bitter enemies. Sisu made sure that they reconciled after her resurrection, and I turned out all they needed was a while to talk things over and an honest apology from both Namaari and her mother Virana for what they did. While not everyone, not even a few dragons accepted their apologies, Raya and Namaari managed to reconnect.

The last time Raya had seen Namaari in person was about seven months ago, when she went to Fang for a weekend. Raya was pregnant at the time, she was slowing, but when Namaari asked, she simply said that she was bloated from Fang’s generosity. It worked, surprisingly enough, but now there was no hiding how far along she was. A year has passed since Raya had ingested that gem that Sisu formed with her magic, and that meant she was full term now. Huge wasn’t even close to how to describe the princess. Absolutely nothing could fit over her girth at this point except for the stretchiest of fabrics. Feeling bold however, Raya decided to use dresses that split down the middle and spread open like curtains, letting her belly hang out in all its glory. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the feeling.

A few moments went by, and Raya finally arrived at the top steps of the bridge while went down towards the path into the jungle. She’d stay where she was. She didn’t feel the need to exert herself that much, and potentially run the risk of being an easy meal for one of the 12 foot spiders that populated Heart and Talon’s surrounding jungles. There she waited, a hand on her lower back to ease a soft cramp and a huff leaving her mouth. Raya felt another squirm inside her belly, which caused her to look down and smile.

“Excited to meet your aunt…or maybe even your other mother? It’s gonna be love at first sight for when she sees how big you’ve made me.” Raya stroked up and down her belly, the warmth from within soothing her as it drives up her hand and through her arm, right back into her chest. This little moment with her future children wouldn’t last long as she heard the sound of vegetation moving.

“…Raya??”

The princess of Heart looked up from her swollen midriff and met the gaze of Fang’s own princess. Mounted on the back of her serlot cat, Namaari had never been so gobsmacked in her entire life. Of course, her meeting Sisu in her dragon form was a very close second. But this time, Namaari was actually having trouble processing it all. There was her best friend who she’d been writing to and from for the better part of a year, and she was…massive! Raya broke the silence smiled, giving a wave and a sheepish smile, her heart thumping with excitement.

“H-hey Namaari! You’re right on time!”

Namaari got off the massive cat, which was starting up at Raya with equal surprise to its rider. Approaching slowly, Namaari walked up the steps towards Raya.

“Hey…Raya. What’s going on with your stomach? You look…pregnant! Are you?..” Namaari said, finally able to form some words.

“I am…you remember how Sisu ate the gem and gave birth a year later? Well…I decided I wanted to make a dragon of my own…and I wanted to surprise you.” Her hands cradled around her belly, a blush growing upon Raya’s face as she then held her hands out.

“It worked on you?…you could have at least dropped a few hints, depla. I feel like I just got the wind knocked out of me.” Her hands met Raya’s holding onto them as they stood together on the bridge.

“Don’t think I don’t know how clever you are, Maari. You’d have figured it all out before I could knock the wind out of you. Consider this payback for Spine.” Raya chuckled and smiled a bit wider. She loved the banter she shared with Namaari.

“You’ve got to be kidding. Nevermind that. You uh…you look good. I just…I have so many questions about this. I can’t believe you’re pregnant with a dragon…or dragons..”

“Dragons. I’m having twins. I’m way bigger than Sisu was at full term. I feel like I’m going to burst.” Raya rubbed around her stomach after letting go of Namaari. She’d stroll around Fang’s princess and look down to her feline mount. “But I’ll answer all of them for you. As soon as we get someplace more private. Hopefully I don’t break your kitty’s back when she’s getting us back to the Palace.”

The serlot gulped visibly as it starred up at Raya, knowing that the heavy women would be a lot to handle…..

————————————————————

Here comes part three of the Pregnant Raya saga! Here we have her reunion with Namaari. There will be more coming in time so I hope you’ll be patient. Just know that Raya will not be getting any bigger from here. She’s a full size and ready to pop! Big thanks to Julias-Rocks for their amazing work on these art pieces! I hope you’ll enjoy this as well!

#disney #animated movies #raya and the last dragon #raya #pregnant #pregnancy #raya fanart

[charlenasaxen]

Favorite Quotes - The Hawthorne Legacy

“As sure as anyone holding a sledgehammer has ever been.”

my dearest, darling older brother here can’t say a single word until I finish.”

“At which point, if I choose, I can invoke the sacred rite of Taeb Nwod.”

Grayson dusted an imaginary speck off the cuff of his suit. “I believe those rules expired when I was ten.”

“I recall no such expiration!” Xander volunteered.

I glared at Eli, who apparently had a very big mouth.

I followed Grayson. Eli followed me. To Grayson’s credit, he gave up trying to lose me pretty quickly.

Jameson crossed to stand in front of his brother, lowering his forehead until it touched Grayson’s. “I know, Gray,

Xander stopped. So did I—and four feet away, so did Eli.

“And you’re on my team? Not Jamie’s?” Xander gave me a look. “Not Gray’s?”

Xander raised his lone eyebrow

“Other than the fact that my stick-in-the-mud brother utterly refuses to play Drink or Dare while we wait?”

“Grayson has business cards—and yes, I mocked him mercilessly for that

Max said immediately. “Loss reverberates through all the players in her tragedy to this day? Yes, I remember Emily.”

“Jameson what?”

“Jameson when, Jameson where, Jameson who?” That was Jameson, in the background

“We have to go,” Grayson said with a great deal of dignity

either the conversation moved closer to the phone, or the phone moved closer to the conversation,

“I am not.” I could see Grayson in my mind’s eye, every muscle in his body taut

She punctuated the names with air quotes, like she suspected they were aliases, even though I had definitely mentioned both of them to her

beaned Xander with a croissant. “Holding out on us?” she demanded.

“I see our budding friendship has reached its croissant phase,” Xander told her. “I am pleased.”

“You’re also hiding things,”

a new SUV pulled up outside. Jameson stepped out first, then Grayson. Both of them were wearing sunglasses.

Oren had called him the team’s arctic specialist. Because every Texas billionaire needed an arctic specialist on their security team.

The man blamed our family for his nephew’s death. He slept with her out of spite. God knows why Skye did it, but I was the result.”

“Was Toby really the straw that broke the camel’s back—or was I?”

See? I don’t need you to hold me up. I turned back toward my friend Grayson

a clump of snow fell down from the roof, right at our feet.

I looked up just in time to see Jameson dropping. He landed beside me on skis, no poles in sight.

“Nice entrance,” Grayson told him dryly.

I found Max on Xander’s shoulders, inspecting the blades of a fan.

“He’s very tall,” Max told me approvingly. “And he’s only dropped me once!”

In the wake of that bombshell, Xander went to find Jameson and Grayson. Hours later, all three brothers returned from the slopes, looking scraped up

“Don’t bleed on that,” Grayson ordered.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,”

“What are your thoughts on vomiting in that vase?”

“You’re an idiot,” Grayson replied.

Xander said grandly, hobbling over to sit on the fireplace, “I won the Drop.”

Max told me. She smiled wickedly. “Very fine.” She nudged me again. “Jameson Hawthorne is in the hot tub.”

“If I weren’t so confident in our brotherly affection for each other,” Jameson replied languidly, “I would find that comment a bit pointed.”

“Pointed?” Xander repeated in faux horror. “Gray? Never.”

“Am I getting ready to see the crown jewels?” I was only partially joking.

“Of what country?” Oren replied—and he wasn’t joking at all.

“After all, the proper way of starting a conversation often involves lurking in your conversation partner’s closet.”

“Can we see it?” That was Xander, who had poked his head out of the bathroom

I placed her father’s wedding ring on an end table. I’d committed the date to memory. I’d gotten what I needed.

There was no reason for me to take this from her, too.

It was gentle and slow and terrifying and perfect. And for once in my life, I didn’t feel alone.

He plucked the marker from Jameson’s hand and stood. “That was a friendly tackle,” he assured me. “Mostly.”

When I knocked a single pin down, a breath left my chest. Grayson went next and lost his suit jacket.

“Thea was right. Rebecca’s mom is having a rough day. There was vodka involved.

my eyes were starting to sting. “And I think he’s my father.”

because the next thing I knew, Mrs. Laughlin was hugging me, holding on to me for dear life.

it might have actually been worse for her. “Don’t expect me to start calling you Aunt Rebecca.”

That was the exact instant that I realized that if Rebecca was my aunt, then Emily had been, too.

A muscle in Grayson’s jaw tightened slightly. It was a good enough look for him that it took me a second to realize that he was trying very hard not to laugh.

And, Grayson, you’re perfection.” Like he needed anyone else telling him that.

“I don’t want to hit anything,” I said in a tone that did absolutely nothing to sell that statement.

Grayson tilted his head to the side, and his eyes settled directly on mine. “How would you feel about swinging a sword?”

Grayson had a way of smiling: lips closed, slightly uneven

This was what it meant to be a Hawthorne. This should probably be in a museum, but my brothers and I like to hit things with it instead.

the movement so perfectly controlled that I was overcome with the sense that he could cut a hair in half if he wanted to

you were just too busy being an asshole to notice.”

Grayson gave me his most austere look. “Let’s try to avoid using the word asshole, shall we?”

And still he came closer, forcing my blade vertical, until there was nothing but inches

“What are we doing?” I whispered.

His eyes closed. His body shuddered.

Last I heard, I was supposedly dating a princess, and my brother Jameson had some very questionable tattoos.”Monica’s eyes lit up. “Does he?”

Grayson leaned back in his seat. “A Hawthorne never tells.”

“If you’re going to come at our siblings,” he told her, his smile sharp

well aware that he could come out on top in any battle. He didn’t make threats, because he didn’t have to.

My grandfather didn’t raise us to be normal, and this is what he wanted. This is his legacy.”

Grayson gave her a wolfish smile. “None.”

Grayson leaned his head down and crushed his lips to mine

standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The wind is whipping in your hair. The sun is setting. You long, body and soul, for one thing. One person. You hear footsteps behind you. You turn.” Max opened her eyes. “Who’s there?”

Anyone. When I pictured myself on that cliffside, I pictured myself alone.

smile, but the one that felt truest to me was devastating. Jameson Winchester Hawthorne had a devastating smile.

She was holding a gun.

“Put it down.” Oren trained his gun on Zara.

Her own weapon held steady, Zara gave Oren her most unimpressed look

“Talk,” Zara told me. “You owe me that much, at least.”

All things considered, I probably did

All three of us turned to face Jameson. Grayson and Xander stood to his sides.

it occurred to me that she loved them.

“Please,” Zara said quietly. “Boys. Just tell me about Toby.”

“Go on,” she told the boys. “Out with the rest of it. In this family, there’s always a rest of it.”

But then you were a little boy. A wonderful little boy, and the newness of it all had worn off for Skye, and you were so lonely because she was never there.”

“But you were,”

before Toby died, you used to take care of me.”

At some point, tears overflowed

Finally, she let the letter go. It dropped from her hand, floating gently toward the ground.

The boys were all frozen in place

Not one of you will see my fortune. There are things I have done that I am not proud of, legacies that you should not have to bear.

I’d never questioned where my mother had gotten them.

Or from whom.

“You Hawthornes,” I whispered hoarsely, “and your invisible ink.”

She taught you to sing ‘Happy Birthday.’ My mom didn’t even call, but Sarah tucked me in every night, into her bed

“My point is that you know who your mom was, Avery. We both do. And she was wonderful.”

My lips should never have touched yours

and wholly rotten and you loved me despite myself

I’m sorry for letting you love me even a fraction as much as I will, to the day I die, love you. I’m sorry for what I did. For the fire.

And I will never stop being sorry about your sister.

Jameson and Xander slipped out of the car after me, and each of them took one of my sides. At least this time, it was me and the Hawthornes against the world.

I almost choked on the word, though I couldn’t have explained why. “Toby loathed himself almost as much as he loved my mom.”

“Heiress?” There was a question in Jameson’s deep green eyes

“I just happened to have my ear pressed to this door. I might have overheard some things, and I have a suggestion!”

Jameson looked like he might actually throttle his brother. I glanced at Oren, who was still pointedly ignoring

“Like I said, I inadvertently overheard some things while my ear was casually pressed to this steel door.

the next thing I saw was his face. Gray eyes, sharp cheekbones, sharper jawline. In the sunlight, his light blond hair looked platinum.

Grayson turned the phone back around and those gray eyes locked on mine. “Avery, have I ever given you reason to believe that I’m particularly averse to danger?” Grayson Hawthorne was arrogant enough to consider himself bulletproof—and honorable enough to see a promise through

Jameson was sticking his head over my shoulder, yelling to his brother

Grayson smiled, and that smile cut into me, every bit as much as his kiss. “Got it.”

Jameson squeezed in beside me to talk to his brother

I turned for just a moment to watch him go.

“That the way it is?”

You might be the only person on this planet who knows thereal me. Hate me, if you can, for all the reasons I deserve it.

I knew you wouldn’t let me go, and I cannot bear to say good-bye.

Harry

Something gave inside me. I closed my eyes and let my head fall, just for a moment

“She’s dead?” Jackson Currie stared at me. “Little Hannah?”

I nodded. “Natural causes.” Given the context, that seemed important to clarify.

But if she’s gone—only seems right to give them to you.”

I looked down at the thing he’d just handed me. I was holding another bundle of postcards.

a different kind of love story. From that point on, every single postcard was about me.

On and on it went, up until the postcards stopped. Up until she died.

My hand shook, holding the last postcard

Grayson’s hand made its way to mine

“Don’t look at me, young lady,” Tobias Hawthorne replied. “This is your subconscious.

The least you could have done was wake up while I was here, tragically backlit, unspeakably handsome, and waiting.”

Heads, I kiss you.” His voice broke slightly. “Tails, you kiss me.

or couldn’t face me. I’d watched him swimming laps every night

“The bomb should have worked.” Sheffield began cuffing the sleeves on his dress shirt, a furious motion—and a familiar one.

Sheffield Grayson’s achingly familiar eyes settled on mine

“Horrible girl.” Toby’s voice was tender.

Trying not to look at the body on the ground—at Grayson’s father

fury gave way to devastation.

“Horrible girl,” he whispered. “Don’t you know by now? No one lets a Hawthorne do anything.”

That was the truth.

I knew, with a strange kind of prescience, that this moment would never leave me. “You’re not staying, are you?”

“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Horrible girl,” he whispered, his voice tender.

You have a daughter, I’d told him.

I have two.

“Am I ever going to see you again?” I asked, my throat closing in on the words.

pressed a kiss to my forehead, and stepped back. “It would be a very risky gamble.”

I would have to learn to think like the old man.

Twelve birds, one stone.

Maybe I was both. Maybe I was a dozen different things, chosen for a dozen different reasons

“Something to tell me? Is it possible you have me confused with one of my brothers?”

“Jameson has laser focus. Grayson always finishes what he starts.

from everything I’d inherited along with Tobias Hawthorne’s billions.Poison tree and all.

When Thea and I hung up the phone, I went to see Grayson.

The entire time, his face was like stone

I waited for him to look at me, with silver eyes and the weight of the world on his shoulders.

I’d been given the world. It was time to stop living scared, time to take the reins.

It was time to take risks.

This was a risk—one the old Avery never would have been capable of taking.

the last secret built into the walls—there will always be one more.”

“But sometimes you have to improvise.” My heart was racing. I was vibrating with the same energy

Or maybe I was one stone meant for twelve birds, most of them still undiscovered.

Like Jameson had said, this was Hawthorne House. There would always be another mystery

This wasn’t nothing.

This was the beginning—and I was ready to be bold.

#the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #avery grambs #grayson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne

[scorple]

Surface Thoughts

Another part in the ongoing series 'Feathers and Fur', crossposted to ao3 (click here to read there).

Prince Andhera of the Unseelie Court seems to get himself in the middle of things at an alarming rate. Advisor would say it is because of their affable attitude and bumbling speech—both of which serve to show their genial nature and invoke trust from most people they meet. As “pillar boy”, the prince was not afforded an opportunity to show these traits and was instead put on the back burner, so to speak.

This Bloom however, Andhera has well... blossomed. It has certainly led to some interesting moments.

One of the things that pleases him most about this Bloom is his newfound relationship with Captain K.P. Hob. For too long he lamented his loss to the Goblin captain at Briar Falls. He was angry with the Captain and thought of it as a terrible and embarrassing defeat. What sort of fey would leave another to suffer the social repercussions of a dishonorable defeat? Was Andhera so lacking in martial prowess that the Captain couldn’t even be bothered with finishing the job? To not even be given the glorious death in battle that generally accompanies war was more proof that Andhera didn’t have what it takes to lead and that he had brought dishonor to their court.

(Or so their sister told them over and over again following his defeat, until he almost believed it himself.)

Andhera now sees the truth. They know that Hob is the most honorable fey he has ever met. They see the truth behind the pomp and circumstance that generally follows the captain with his sharp uniforms and rigid posture. Hob is order amongst chaos. He is genuine when others are false. He wears his heart on his sleeve but only if one knows where to look. (Often, his ears are a great place to start.)

In fact, it was Hob’s friendship that really made Andhera feel at ease for the first time (publicly) at the Bloom. Their sparring practices have soothed an ache that Andhera hadn’t even been aware existed before now. They of course have some friends back in their court but he’s not sure if Advisor, Grandpa Dog, and Mucky really count. Hob is his first real friend outside of his home and he has a feeling that the same may be true of the goblin.

All this to say that when Hob asked for Andhera to come with him on some mystery errand, it was an easy thing to agree to. Still basking in the very strange success of their visit the Lords of the Wing, they nearly have a skip in their step on the way to the East Gate to meet Hob.

(Andhera is still not completely sure what led Lady Cluckingham to decide to be so open with him and to share news of her newfound love with him but he couldn’t be happier for her and honestly was quite nervous about whatever was going on with the two of them.)

Andhera loses his glad demeanor the second he sees the serious look on Hob’s face. It almost reminds them of the look Hob wore on the battlefield as he stood over Andhea’s prone form, halberd pointed at his neck. This is not the Hob he sparred with. This Hob is stoic, silent, and oddly a little bit sad but Andhera takes solace in the slight softening of Hob’s brow and the way his ears twitch in their direction as they approach.

“Your highness,” Hob says, bowing his head and extending a large, furry paw.

Andhera clasps Hob’s hand in turn and for a moment studies their friend, takes in the long jacket and serious demeanor. “Captain.”

“Good to see you,” Hob returns. Andhera feels as though there is a bit of weight to those words and wonders just what exactly the Captain has gotten himself into.

With a sigh, Hob releases Andhera’s hand. “Thank you for coming here. I know my request must seem strange.” A pause, collecting his thoughts. “I’m going to tread dangerously into the unknown. Your house and mine are both creatures of darkness so into the darkness we must tread,” Hob explains as they walk, cloaked in shadow.  

As they approach the old shop where they are to meet Gwyn, Hob stops them for a moment, turning to face Andhera. He lays a large, warm hand on their arm and says, “I trust you.” The words wash over Andhera and the only way they can describe the feeling is the electricity in the air during a storm. They feel the words buzz over their skin and can’t help the emotions that fill his heart. He responds in some way though thinking back on it, they’re not even really sure what they said.

Hob goes on, looking far too sure about his next proclamation, almost resigned. “No, no. I mean to say I am not a clever man. I am not a man possessed of affinity for high society.” Hob studies Andhera for a moment and the prince is once again taken by his ability to just see where others may not and moreso, speak plainly of what he sees.

“You were born to a family that has put you in this place and I was not. I have…struggled to stay afloat in the,” he pauses again, taking in the cloud forming over Andhera’s head, the soft whites dampened by darker more ominous tones, “ stormy waters of the Bloom and I have at many times failed.” Strangely, Andhera catches a sort of wistful melancholy cross the Captain’s face. They think back to a quiet conversation seated on a fallen log and Andhera feels a tightness in his chest, struck by Hob’s own perceived failings. It must be dreadful work, always doing what is best for others and ignoring what would bring joy to himself. For the first time, Andhera feels like he really understands this most venerable goblin.

“When I look to you, I see a man of honor,” Hob continues. The words strike Andhera in a different way. First disbelief that Hob thinks so little of himself—which clicks even more about the Captain into place—and second, the declaration of their honor like it is the most obvious thing in the world. It makes something settle deep in their chest and makes the shard on the back of their neck buzz. Hob offers them a small, self-deprecating smile. “And perhaps I am a fool but I know that I cannot survive this without making some attempt to trust. So I’m telling you now, Prince Andhera, that I trust you,” and maybe Andhera loses the thread just for bit because for all the things they have had in their life, for all the trinkets from their mother, all the titles unearned and unasked for, this is the greatest gift they have ever been given. They miss the next bit, the words washing over them, heat rising to their face at the praise.

“What an interesting day this is turning out to be,” Andhera says with a smile. The cloud above Andhera’s head blooms wide and white, a warm summer mist which might usually be accompanied by a rainbow. “As I am sharing the deepest secrets with many people it seems,” he muses, catching Hob’s confused look and shrugging. They echo the Captain’s own words from a day prior back to him. “And I would like to extend to you, Captain-–you can trust me with anything and I will be candid and honest with you.”

The two continue side by side, enveloped and caressed by the darkness, talking amicably as equals and Andhera feels something slot into place.

*********************************************************************

Back to being in the middle of things.

Many things happen all at once and yet seemingly over infinite stretches of time. Andhera feels the stabbing pain, the heartache , from Hob the moment he sees Rue. It is something that they think will require further investigation and more than likely some very stern words for his friend for Andhera has idolized Hob for longer than he cares to admit. 

The Captain, a fierce and formidable opponent, chose to spare them when others may not have. With all the propaganda and whispers scattered throughout his court, Andhera assumed the Goblins to be bloodthirsty, untamable beasts hell bent on the destruction of all the Unseelie hold dear but to lay beneath Hob’s halberd and be granted life , they realized quite suddenly they were wrong. When Andhera had gotten over the hurt feelings and moved past the humiliation from his sister, he had decided that Hob was more honorable than most, had been excited to hear of the Captain’s attendance to the Bloom.

To hear Hob’s surface thoughts and see how little the man truly felt of himself, it was enough to steal Andhera’s breath. 

Through their conversation and from his own observations, Andhera had known there was something going on between Hob and Rue, but never this shameful adoration the Captain held for them. It’s neither the time nor place, but he wants to take Hob by the shoulders and shake him hard enough to dislodge the hopelessness from his mind.

Andhera listens closely, chimes in when necessary but mostly watches the interactions between Hob and Rue, feeling their cloud shift and change over the conversation. The emotions boiling at the surface of Rue’s thoughts sink into Andhera’s mind and it takes a moment to process all of it. He feels their doubt, their shame, their anxiety, their want and all of it directed towards Hob.

He feels the sadness when Rue speaks of not feeling like they belong, feels that same thought echoed across Binx and Hob and suddenly, he realizes, echoed in himself as well. They are all mismatched pieces coming together in an abandoned tailor’s shop, desperate for answers or hope or connection. Hob’s mind pushes to the front and Andhera nearly chokes on the intensity of the Captain’s memories.

Hob walking cloaked and silent in the dark edges of the wood, a goblin bonfire burning in the distance. Hob wondering why he could not bring himself to join, could not give in to the rumpus and ruin. Hob wishing he could just turn off and belong for once. The longing is something with which Andhera is intimately acquainted but the affection and earnest wish that comes after—a wish for Rue to know that they do have a place, they can belong—somehow fades into the memory of the smell of peonies. They see Hob's memory of Rue's wrist clasped in his hand, of Rue's words in the secret of the wood and the feelings that blossomed from such a brief conversation.

Andhera wants to yell, wants to scream at Hob to say something, do something .

But he doesn't.

They feel the pang when Hob acknowledges his role in the proposed arrangement and feels the guilt the captain feels all tied up and tangled with his own pride at his accomplishments. Hob only wanted to bring status to his people and to bring the Goblin Court out from the darkness and into the light of the other fey and instead was left to clean up the scattered pieces abandoned so carelessly by others.

It almost shocks Andhera out of their own musings when Hob announces his name so abruptly but as that fades, they turn the name over in their head, letting forth a small smile. Knickolas is a good name, strong and not expected. They’re so caught up in thinking about it, wondering now what the 'P' could possibly be, that it’s only the soft sigh from Rue that brings him back out just in time to hear Rue’s voice echo through his mind, clear as cave water.

I love him.

#acofaf fic #acofaf #prince andhera #captain k.p. hob #delloso de la rue #battlemaster of ceremonies #acofaf spoilers #post episode: of one mind #a court of fey and flowers

[thebreakfastgenie]

For DVD commentary:

She left him, but he never entirely left her; she never banished him from her heart. She’s not sure she could if she tried, and she isn’t altogether certain she wants to. The flesh-and-blood Hawkeye—she’s reminded over and over—is better than the one in her mind, but he’s also more complicated. He’s the way she remembers, but different, too—his hands, once soft, are cracked and calloused from harsh scrubbing.

He wants desperately to prove that he’s changed, but he hasn’t, not in any way that matters. He offers her marriage, but she still wants him more, and she knows she’ll never have all of him. She already has all of Doug, waiting loyally for her in a ship off the coast, writing letters and never suspecting a thing. She knows she should feel bad about, and she does. She feels worse about what she does to Hawkeye.

This first part:

She left him, but he never entirely left her; she never banished him from her heart. She’s not sure she could if she tried, and she isn’t altogether certain she wants to.

Is meant to be a counterpart to a line from The More I See You:

In some ways, I don't mind that she's gone again. It's just that she never altogether leaves.

Basically, Carlye feels similarly to Hawkeye about their relationship and she's never quite gotten over him, either. I'm pretty sure the flesh-and-blood part was better in my head but then I fell asleep without writing it down and had to recreate it (many such cases) but I'm kind of fond of it. It comes up earlier that Carlye fantasizes (sexually, but, like, symbolism) to the memory of Hawkeye, which allows her to "keep" him and have the life he can't give her with Doug. But once she encounters him again she's forced to admit her fantasy of him is actually inferior to the real deal, because, you know, he's a real person, but since he's a person, she can't control him like she can her fantasy.

The bit about his hands I just kind of threw in because I needed to fill it out and I liked the idea of surgeon's hands and using those as a symbol of how the war has affected him, especially since she comments on him looking a little rough. I'm not even that into hands but they make handy (haha) imagery. It's being confronted with your past and also being confronted with your old flame being transformed by The Horrors of War. I couldn't resist throwing a nod to Hawkeye being a little different, because I'm fascinated by the question of who Hawkeye was before Korea and Carlye is one of our best windows into that.

This second paragraph is mostly about why she leaves the second time, which is something I really wanted to explore after watching The More I See You.

He offers her marriage, but she still wants him more, and she knows she’ll never have all of him.

is one of my favorite lines I wrote in this. It calls back a line earlier in the fic, where she's okay with living together unmarried, because she wants to be with Hawkeye more than she wants to be married. Now the meaning has changed because Hawkeye is willing to marry her, but she recognizes that even if they get married, she'll never really have all of him, because he'll still put his work first. That's the "way that matters" when she says he hasn't really changed, no matter how much he may want to convince her (and himself) that he has.

I thought a lot about how I would handle Doug and I really liked the idea that not only does Doug not cheat, it never occurs to him to worry about Carlye cheating. She says she's always been honest with him, which is somewhat reminiscent of what BJ says about Peg later. I was drawn to the irony, in a setting where so many people cheat and so many people are worried about cheating, that Doug Walton is faithful and trusts his wife completely and she breaks that trust. I'm also asking my reader to sympathize with Carlye breaking that trust. Doug is invoked here as a contrast to Hawkeye. Doug is willing to give Carlye everything, all of him. The first time they meet, he gives her his time, even leaving work to do it, which Hawkeye could never do. And yet, despite that, Carlye feels worse about leaving Hawkeye for a second time than she does about cheating on her husband. That's because she love and cares about Hawkeye more, which she maybe can't quite admit to herself, but definitely knows deep down. Hawkeye tells Carlye everyone since her has been "pale imitations at best" and I think Doug is a pale imitation of Hawkeye. I was really going for this idea that maybe they were the loves of each other's lives, but that didn't mean it was going to work, and Carlye trying to accept that and find love elsewhere.

#ty <3333333 #I love this fic and talking about it

[neshtasplace]

Cities of Steel and Blood

I have not done nearly enough interaction, talking and promos of my story and I feel really delinquent in this.

So yeah, I wrote a story it’s up on Patreon as a free download for all, but then I thought...I can just post it here right? Is that illegal? Hell no. (And even if it was, it’s mine, I can do what I want.)

So, check out my 16 chapter novelette, Cities of Steel and Blood!

Here’s the cover!

Here’s a whole-ass chapter. I’m just gonna post chapters whenever I remember, but trying to do it once a week.

Curtains of frost greeted Adriana as she stepped into the streets; the autumn air refreshing as a slap to the face. She flexed her hands and tried to shake off the blanket of sleep she was still wrapped in. Muscles sore and protesting—Adriana knew she shouldn’t have slouched over so much. She turned her head at an angle then cricked it, reaching up to stretch her shoulders and arms out. Adriana had only gotten a handful of hours of sleep. The documents her office received last evening were far too fascinating to put down. Well, that was the price she was more than willing to pay. Another night spent up in the office was more than fair in her eyes.

The city greeted her with its usual rain soaked, miserable splendor. The high-arched roofs towered over her, far-flung from the steel and glass of modern buildings. They seemed to sag down to bow to her, not out of supplication, but pity it seemed. She was far from the newer core of the city. No, she was nestled in the middle of the old downtown: ancient buildings of stone so red they seemed to burn with it. That brilliance now caked in filth and worn down over the ages. Old beauty now forgotten. She sucked in a breath of autumn air, ignoring the stink of pollution.

All she needed was coffee, a few energy drinks (if we’re being honest more than a few), and to get back to work. Once that was taken care of all she had to do was make it home and let herself crash. Actually it was far more accurate to say that she also required the family not to ask her for work tonight. Oh gods, if she had to run an investigation in this state, especially after a day of work? She might easily make an ass of herself. The last thing Adriana needed was to make an ass of herself.

Again.

Therefore, she only needed this one day to relax and rest. It was not a terribly complex affair, in her eyes. Speaking of eyes, they were dry. Well, it to be more accurate to say ‘eye’ seeing as one was forcefully removed a few years back. Adriana rubbed her intact ocular orb with the back of her hand, sighing as she tried to wake herself.

Adriana walked into the cafe`: her favorite spot among few favorite spots. It was all furnished in dark wood paneling—warm accents of creamy tones. Tasteful art hung on the wall. The way it was laid out was to evoke a kind of homeyness. It really did say something about the decorator that they can invoke such a sense to someone who never had a home. Comfort was universal, Adriana assumed. The other appeal of this particular cafe was Lina, one of the workers. She mixed and served the drinks, offered a kind smile and was, in Adriana’s opinion, gorgeous.

Lina worked from opening to noon most weekdays. Adriana tended to wander in whenever she was working (Ok, that sounds mildly creepy) and she only ever came here on days she knew Lina was working (Ok, very creepy). Then again, it’s not like Adriana would be capable of anything approaching normal with another woman. She sighed at her foolishness, rubbing her eye again as she shuffled into line.

“Adri?” The melodious voice snapped her out of her sleepy reverie. She smiled and walked up to Lina; she was absolutely splendid today. A woman of supremely cute features: Her crimson skin complimented her blazing orange eyes. “Your usual?” She chirped at her, with growing horror, Adriana realized she was staring. Shit. A numb nod to confirm her order, and Adriana shuffled to the other clerk to pay for her drink. She still felt like some kind of flesh construct rather than a person. The coffee might help; it often did.

The sweet aroma of the shop gave way to the ceaseless stink of the city air; Adriana gratefully stepped into it. The vision of Lina’s adorable face was a tapestry woven in front of Adriana’s sleep-lacked vision. She called her ‘Adri’. It was such an adorable nickname. Only one other person called her Adri; that was ages ago, a lifetime ago, really. ‘She was such a cute girl’ thought Adriana, ‘but such thoughts aren’t for someone like me’ the reminder stood in stark contrast to the warm thoughts. But it was correct: Adriana could never give in to those dangerous feelings again. Perhaps others can, but she could not.

She sighed and sipped at her warm drink as she stepped into her workplace: A small office space with the usual wood floors and neutral walls and paneling. There were six desks here, each worker’s station. This space had been converted from an accounting office into an appraisal business. Clients brought in whatever artifacts, Magictech or any other odd objects here, and they broke them down and identified them.

The majority of Adriana’s job was document appraisal and verification. She was the best the place had at it. And even if this was a cover business, she still loved it. Oftentimes, in the middle of a busy day, Adriana would daydream. She’d dream that this was her actual life, that she had a home with bills and real worries. If the daydream was extensive, she’d dream herself up a wife. Someone warm and supportive; someone for whom any thought or desire was not a terror for Adriana to express to her.

A silly dream—nice, but silly. In the end, she would snap awake from her idle wandering and be back here: A fixer for the Nummari family. An orphan found in the gutter, shaped and molded into their tool. Set into the world to pretend she had a life, and come at their beck and call.

It was not as if she had a problem with the family; on the contrary they treated her very well. Adriana never wanted for money or other material needs. She was well-cared for. She was also able to practice her craft at her will. And the means by which she has grown were entirely because of them. Even among her peers, Adriana knew she was a cut above. Her skill with the arcane arts greater than what it seemed like she should know in her twenty odd years of life. For that, she was very thankful to her masters.

Yet still. Being a person she had feelings, emotions, and needs. Adriana still wanted things; and that desire to want—it was hard to ignore. However, Adriana was very good at ignoring things. She’s been doing very well at it so far. She sighed again and sat at her workstation: A desk piled with papers, tomes and scrolls. She barely cleared enough space to put her coffee down.

Her mind was still caught up in less mature thoughts— in her desires of the hear. After a few moments of discomfort she decided this was simply a sidestep; a small malfeasance that can be relegated to less urgent thoughts. The body is a machine—it requires certain things. Adriana’s body was screaming at her a bit; this is nothing really serious to worry about.

Setting those thoughts aside, Adriana felt just a bit better. Her head felt clearer as she went over her duties for the day. Despite her late night, and subsequent early morning, she was feeling more energized. Stay the course, do your duty and survive:

This was her mandate.

***

The day was a long, syrupy mess. Mostly, it was due to the lack of sleep; but also a few daily irritants added to things: One of her co-workers, Hana, had to misfile a document. Which left Adriana flustered and nearly chewing xem out. It was not fair to do so—the purpose of this job was to keep a low profile. Thankfully, Adriana was able to keep her mouth shut, but it was hard not to. Somehow with the guidance of the Founders above and below, Adriana got through the day.

Adriana leaned back in her chair, stretching out the kinks that had worked their way up her spine. She could really use some of that high-end magical healing only the rich could afford; a mystical massage would work wonders right about now. With a sigh and a grunt, Adriana turned to leave the office. She barely remembered to grab her coat and fling it over her shoulders before making her escape. Luckily, the manager had not asked her to file everything away and close up shop. He was probably not wanting to invoke her bad temper as well. Fair to him.

The clatter of the door closing behind her seemed to be the only sounds on the street. Echoes smothered by evening fog, even her footfalls were wrapped in silky ghostly hands. Seeing as it was dinner time, these smaller streets were all but abandoned. Adriana stifled a yawn as she tucked her jacket’s fur collar up close to her neck, the chill was impossible to ignore now. Fall was in full swing, nights were becoming chilly and foreboding. The city never slept; but it sure went into hibernation now and then.

Thankfully, the trip back to her apartment held no significance. She had no intention of it doing so; however, she was glad the universe saw eye-to-eye with her on this matter. As much as Adriana wanted to protest that she had no time to pick up dinner, her stomach offered insightful counter arguments. Try as she might to push the demands aside, sometimes the body had to win. After a quick stop to grab a street pastry, she was on her way home. Her bed was so close—so tantalizingly close.

With a bit more effort than usual, Adriana clambered up the stairs to her apartment. The click of the lock opening was more gratifying than any church bell she ever heard in her life. Slipping inside. she locked the door and leaned against it for a moment. After a moment of composure, she stripped off her jacket and hung it on the hook. Adriana carefully removed her shoes and loosened her tie with a sigh of relief. She barely unbuttoned her shirt before Adriana simply collapsed into the bed.

Ordinarily, she’d be right asleep. After staying up the entire previous night, expending much of her arcane energy, and barely eating—She’d be completely sapped. But something tugged at her, urged her to stay up, or at least not give in to sleep. There was something; a presence, a movement, that sparked those ancient voices. They screamed at her to rise.

Adriana rolled over and sat up in her bed. Her gaze darted around the dark room. The lights weren’t even on. She hadn’t even washed her face, she was so tired. Her vision had already adjusted to the dark, so spotting the figure sitting in her armchair was easy once she actually thought to do it.

“You must be drunk, Adriana. Usually you’re not this stupid.” Came a familiar voice from the shadows—silk on a blade. Adriana reached over to click on the lamp beside her. The light spell flared to life and bathed the area around the bed in warm, flickering illumination. She could barely make out the form sitting in the chair, but she already knew it was her ‘co-worker’ more akin to a handler. Mia

Mia was smaller than Adriana, but meaner. Better with a blade. Though they were the same age, Adriana was to treat her like a superior. She didn’t.

“Please tell me you are just here for a social visit, Mia. Please tell me…” Adriana mumbled and rubbed her face.

“We have a scene to get to in thirty. Thirty minutes being my generous gift to you; as you are a fucking dumb ass who can’t not read musty old tomes all through the night…” Adriana glanced up at her, locking eyes with the far more impressive woman. “How did you-?”

“I always know...it’s my job. Get showered and changed, I’ll be waiting.” She rose from her seat, graceful as always; reminding Adriana of a bow drawn. The clunk of her boots cut through the dull quiet, Mia leaned against the wall, her red lips pulled into a mean smirk. “Go?” She gestured to the bathroom across from them.

With an indigent huff, Adriana got out of bed—her muscles screamed at her for rest. She walked over to her wardrobe and grabbed a new outfit, then scuttled into the bathroom. The cold tiles did not feel good at this hour of the night. It was a cramped room, with barely enough space for all the things required of a bathroom: A dingy sink with a mirror that stayed smudgy no matter how hard Adriana scrubbed it. The floor and walls were tiled with black and white alternating patterns. It was not much, but it was hers; Besides, it’s not like Adriana needed much counter space. With an irritated grunt she slipped her eye patch off and hung it over the corner of the small mirror.

The shower started up with little protest from the pipes and she sighed a breath of relief over the water being hot this time. Acting quickly, she stripped off her dingy, day-old clothes and stuffed them in the hamper, noting the smell with a growing dismay. How much of a vagrant did she look like in the office? The coffee shop? What did Lina think of her looking and smelling like that? She noted with a worried frown that it explained many of the looks she got through the day. The worries flooded away, melting out of her psyche and down the drain as she stood in the hot water for a few minutes. She barely had the ability to keep track of time; and even with the blazing hot water on her back, she could have easily fallen asleep standing.

A knock at the door startled her from her potential somnambulism. “Stop yanking yourself off and scrub up, Adriana. Don’t make me come in there and do it myself.” Mia sounded very much impatient. A sly smile crept at Adriana’s lips and before she could stop herself, she replied with:

“Help with which part?”

“Funny. Actually funny. Well, you must be sleep-deprived. Regardless, hurry.”

Adriana scrubbed and washed herself; the soap and water helped just a bit to get her mind into a pseudo-wake state. Once she stepped out of the shower and toweled off, she began to feel more alive. Sleep would have to wait, time was not being generous to her, and that is simply how things were. Before another knock of annoyance could ruin things, Adriana stepped out into her room dressed and ready. She tied her tie as she watched Mia glare at her. “I can’t go out looking like a bum, Mia, give me a moment.”

“You seemed happy to do that all day today.”

Adriana snorted out a terse. “Shut up.” Before she headed over to get her jacket and shoes on. “You realize I have had no preparation for this!?” She took out her spellbook and flipped through it, trying to analyze what might be best useful for whatever was going on. After a moment of thought, she paused and looked up from it. “Wait what are we investigating!?”

Mia pushed passed her, grabbing Adriana’s arm and pulling her out the swung-open door. She wheeled around on her, pressing an arm against the wall to physically stop Adriana from looking away. Mia leaned in close, smiling a serpentine smile. “This is something special, Adriana: Not some dead snitch or leak that needs to be found.” She pushed off, then started down the hall, leaving Adriana flustered and confused.

In the chaos she barely remembered to turn and lock her door, then rush off after Mia. Pocketing her spell book, she huffed and fiddled with her collar. “What in the blazes do you even mean, Mia!?”

“We found a body, but it’s live. And it’s something we’re unsure of. Before you sputter out more incoherent questions, this is all I know. It just landed in our territory, and you are the one to figure out what the hells it is. Ok!?” Mia was speaking in a quick, clipped tone and she seemed overly concerned with her wording. This was bad. This was also irregular. And irregularities excited Adriana. She found herself smiling despite her weary state.

***

Mia had a car brought in for them; because of course she did. As a higher up in the family, Mia had more resources at her disposal than Adriana—the spoiled brat. Well, that was a touch mean. However, at this hour, Adriana could be excused due to the exhaustion. The truth of the matter was Mia was a lot like her: She clawed her way to the top from nothing. Just like her, Mia grew up in the slums and gutter, until a spark of divine intervention brought her to the attention of the Nummari family. Just like Adriana had. Except it was not a magical spark Mia possessed, it was a body and soul of steel. She was a blade fighter. One of exceptional skill, as far as Adriana knew. Knife, sword, axe, or a piece of broken glass; it mattered not, Mia could use it to unmake any person she came across.

Adriana knew from a young age she had an—odd—relationship with violence. It was to be feared, but it also excited her. And thus, Mia was a bit of a vexing person for her. By all logical rights she should find her dangerous. Yet she found Mia..arousing instead. Many a night she’d been both frustrated by Mia’s stubbornness but also needing to feel her. Another annoyance in her life—another object of desire—another avenue of destruction. That’s two times in a day she felt her mind leaning to salacious thoughts. She huffed out a sigh of frustration at that.

With a knowing smirk, Mia adjusted the crimson scarf around her neck. “Look, Adriana, I’m not happy with this either, but we must make the best of it. Besides…” She paused, pursing her lips. “We’ll grab a coffee and some sweets after this? Sounds good?” Adriana knew this was just a manipulation tactic to get her to do what she wanted; rather than a show of friendship. Part of her ached for it to be genuine; she hated that part. Regardless, she took the invitation with a nod.

She didn’t even like sweets and Mia knew it.

“Fine. At least we will both be able to celebrate a job well-done.” Adriana stated with perfect calm. Mia had her arms crossed in front of her, her dark eyes scanning over Adriana. She wasn’t sure if it was amusement or held in those eyes. Mia grinned after a second of contemplation, after which she surmised: “Presumptuous of you.” That elicited a scoff from Adriana.

“With you and I on the case? We’re guaranteed a win.” That little show of bravado only made Mia snort and roll her eyes.

“After all of the exertion, you are still full of pip; I appreciate a gal who can keep going.” She grinned evilly, causing Adriana to wish for death “After all these years, you’re still amusing; I’ll give you that. Still, lately I have no idea what to make of you.”

“You don’t know what to make of me; bullcock, Mia. We’ve known each other since we were kids.” Mia’s rolling eyes made Adriana want to pluck them out, but at least she got a minor concession from her. Mia went silent, and she might have been seeing things in the shadows of the night; but she looked put out.

Adriana leaned back in her seat. They were nice, some kind of leather, it was soft and warm despite the chill of the night. She glanced out the window to see the grimy, older buildings give way to dark-bricked newer ones: The industrial sector. Many of the mana plants and forges lay out here. That oddly made her think of the cute blacksmith she met a few months ago. She had nice arms. ‘Gods, Adriana, focus.’ she snapped at herself.

It didn’t take long to get to the location. There was no barricade, no waiting enforcers. The area seemed to be have been cleared, that or it was the industrial district at night; no one is there anyway. Adriana tried to spot the guard’s station near the entrance—it was empty. The family must have called ahead and told the guard to take a break. She sat back in her seat and frowned at that.

The warehouse in question was stationed in lot three, a large ‘twenty-one’ was painted on the massive green doors. Fenced off with what looked to be at least two meter high steel bars. This was one of the more secure ones in the Nummari family’s holding for this area. Most likely used to store semi-restricted objects. She guessed at ores. Anything that housed the actual valuables (precious metals, artifacts, magi-tech) would have been closer to the family’s strongholds.

The car came to a stop at the fence’s gate, and Mia got out without a word. She didn’t even wait for Adriana; getting the key out to unlock the gate. Adriana scrambled out and came up to her side, giving her an annoyed glare. Mia flicked her a devilish grin. She pushed the gate open and gestured to her. “Well then my dear. Let’s get this…” Mia actually looked surprised as she glanced over. Adriana took advantage of her befuddlement and strode ahead of her, stones crunching under her feet. The sight that vexed Mia was, to be fair, rather unusual: There was, at the side of the warehouse—obscured by the other buildings—a body laying in a crater. Long wisps of smoke snaked up into the sky, it certainly confirmed what little Adriana gleamed from Mia; it dropped recently. As Adriana peered over the edge (it must have been about twelve feet in circumference), not too big, but enough to cause some real damage to the ground. It sank in about four or five feet and in the center was a woman. She looked...large, with a wild mane of black hair. She was wearing what looked like prison clothes. No...they were a tunic and pants of some sort. With some black cloth hanging off of her (massive) shoulders. She looked like some old knight Adriana had seen in her books. A large sword was strapped to her back. How very odd.

Adriana felt a pressure on her shoulder, then the sensation of being yanked back. She was pulled from danger just in time, as seemingly in the blink of an eye this mysterious woman was up and charging her. She surged up from the small crater, weapon drawn, and let out a roar. She felt the wake of air brush her face, the sword having missed her by mere centimeters.

Now, a normal person roaring was an event; seeing as most people did not roar habitually. Adriana’s mind flicked back to when she had to deal with a very drunk patron at a local bar. He roared, and howled like a monster, but the drink was doing that. No, this was different. This was as if a foul beast had been chained to this woman, bound to her, the two having scrapped and fought their whole lives.

She barely managed to block the follow-up attack. The ‘knight’ moved like lightning. Akin to a storm but without the impassiveness. No, this was like a storm that hated your guts and wanted to kick your ass. The magical shield Adriana materialized in front of her held the blade back, but barely. With a contemptuous sneer, the odd woman shoved Adriana back, then a boot to her gut blew out any semblance of breath Adriana had in her. It felt like a press had crushed her guts. She made a pathetic gurgling sound and staggered back. Ears ringing. Gods, she was strong.

The sound of metal clashing caught in her ears. Mia had taken to the fray. She met with the newcomer, like a lover long parted. As Adriana blinked the stars from her eye, she saw Mia dance around her foe; her silver dagger darted out to find openings. The short sword she held in her main hand was used for parrying the large, black blade of her attacker. Normally, one would be confused as to where the blades came from. But Adriana knew. She smirked; Mia still wore the leather jacket she enchanted for her. How sentimental. That was Mia in a nutshell: Confusing and contradictory. The chance to reposition was something Adriana could not pass up, so she did, trying to get distance and flipping through her mental library to select a spell.

She felt a tingle along her legs and up her spine. It was like making love: Fear and excitement surging through you. The knowledge that now, it could not be stopped. The power welled from deep within her and she tamed it, channeled it, and held it in her hand for just a second. It was...delightful. “Down!” Was the only warning she gave before release.

The bolt of lightning flashed through the night, tearing through the air and hitting the woman in the side. Mia had ducked and rolled aside just as the spell was set off. For as much as they two of them seemed to detest each other, for as much as Adriana had such bloody complicated feelings over her: Mia and Adriana fought well together. They knew when to bob and when to weave. When there needed to be force and when calm would solve problems. This, they were in sync with. Violence and duty were their marriage.

However, this was not as easy as Adriana hoped. The bolt was met with dark steel as the woman swung her sword to absorb it. Arcs of energy danced up the blade, sending the bolt into the sky. But it did look as if she was shaken by it. Good. At least it was something. Mia dashed back, and was met with a sickening backhand. She hadn’t prepared for the speed of this altogether odd woman, this beast; Mia was struck, falling off the side.

Without missing a beat, Mia rolled from the ensuing blade meant for her. She dashed away, parrying, moving the woman around for another spell. Adriana knew these signs, these subtle movements. She already assumed what to do. With a swirling motion of her hands she created a small whirlwind at her attacker’s feet. It took her footing off, opening her up to a strike from Mia. Her blade met flesh, slashing a clean line down the giant’s chest and thigh. This should have been a fatal hit, but both of them stood in amazement as sparks flew away from the point where steel collided. Mia’s blade simply danced along the surface of her skin, doing no real damage.

“Ok. This is….new.” Adriana mumbled to herself. Mia was again, put into a retreating stance from the furious attacks of this damned...whatever the hell she was. What was she!? She was well over six feet tall, and brimming with muscle. Her eyes were wild, Adriana noted. And while she acted like some kind of beast, her martial skill was honed to an edge. Adriana’s mind was racing, but a calm overtook her. She began to pace, watching the two fight with a detached fascination. So, this..newcomer was insanely well-built, fought with a vigor and skill that isn’t common, and can endure attacks most can’t. She even shrugged off one of Adriana’s more potent spells.

Therefore, logic had to dictate she was something used to fighting magic. Something, possibly created? A person made for a purpose. That made Adriana’s stomach tighten a bit, she knew that feeling well: She was an instrument of the family. A tool that had been forged by them; but could she complain? Adriana would have no life without them. These thoughts caused a clutter she did not need, and thus, she swept them aside. The point was to study this being in front of her.

Mia and the large woman met again, clashing blades together as she was pushed back against the wall of the warehouse. Having the flighty fighter pinned, Mia was savagely struck in the gut, right at the solar plexus. Adriana’s senses came into sharp relief as she saw the blade raised to swing down on Mia. Enervation, energy, energy! That was it. Without thinking, Adriana closed the distance, it was maddeningly slow as she ran as fast as she could. Snapping open her collapsible staff, Adriana reached out with a thrust, barely connecting with the blade. But with the momentum and the well-wrought steel, it was able to deflect the blow from hitting Mia. However, Adriana was sent a bit off balance. Before she could recover, she felt her world soar into the air. Her neck hurt, pain exploding in her mind. Thick fingers viced around her throat—that would explain the pressure, the immense pressure. She let out a choked sob as her hands grabbed the other woman’s arm. But it was no use, her grip was like steel. She might have said something, but Adriana couldn’t make it out. Blood was pounding in her ears.

Her vision faded as the black overtook her.

‘No no, can’t end like this’ she tapped into her well of power and forced herself back into the world. No air, no matter. Tightening her grip on the other woman’s forearm, she started to draw. Drawing the energy, the very life force from her. She felt a shiver of cold go down her body. This was like expecting a cup of water and getting the ocean all at once. No person she ever encountered had this kind of reserves of energy in them. Life-force is a limited thing; but, this was like an infinite wellspring.

This was impossible.

Adriana must have screamed, she felt her throat tearing apart from the force of it. She tried her best to hold on, to keep her spell up. She had to weaken this attacker. Even if it blew her out for sometime, she was the last thing that stood between Mia and getting killed. Wait, why did she care about Mia? This was her last hope to not die herself. Another sound rang in her ears, it was a low savage voice; filled only with anger and hatred, she realized after a few numb seconds that it was the mystery woman. She was trying to shake this spell off. Roaring and screaming as if an animal caught in a trap; however, Adriana continued to draw from her. She steadfastly refused to let go.

Everything was rising, growing, a cascade of unknowable force was consuming her. The world burned away into ash as Adriana felt everything torn away from her.

Suddenly, Adriana was standing in another place.

***

It was cold here. Well, colder than where she was. It was a kind of cold that tore into your very bones. It made her teeth hurt and her head whirl each time she took in a breath. She looked around wildly, where was she!? Adriana took in her surroundings. They almost seemed unreal: She stood upon what looked like a giant metal plane. Simply a huge square of pure steel. She even tapped it with her foot, being met with a metallic clang as the sole hit surface. Impossible. In fact, everything about this night was impossible.

Adriana turned around to see the woman standing in front of her. She looked different. Less hunched-over beast and more regal noble. Adriana tried to shake off her feelings of tangled desires. Ok, she was severely handsome like this—not important, not now.

Ariana’s scattered thoughts were rattled and cast into the sea as she heard her voice: It was deep, low, and yet oddly soft. Adriana felt a shiver work up her spine, creep and crawl; not slide up cleanly. “You’re very smart. I see it didn’t take you long to sort out my weakness. Impressive.” She was mulling over Adriana, looking at her as the lion might gaze at meat. Adriana felt fear claw at her heart, but pushed it down.

“It was a simple matter of deducing the most logical result given the evidence. Something inside you provides you with excessive...energy. I deduced that the source needed to be stifled before we could hope to overcome you.”

“You took the edge off and with that, you also managed to calm me.” the woman sighed, looking around. “Before you ask; this is my mind scape. I needed to talk with you, this little beacon. You certainly are a bright one.” The mystery woman chuckled, amused. “I wonder when you will see the source of such light?” She spoke calmly, like a strategist looking at a map.

“I am not special.” A lie, simply by being a magi she had special blood. The very secrets of the arcane flowed through her veins. Adriana hated that though; she was just another denizen of the City. Just another stuck at the feet of the Founders.

“Oh? You don’t know!? Hmm...it is not just I with the odd inner power, Adriana.” She was taken aback by that, what was she talking about!? This might have been some kind of tactic. Steeling herself, Adriana looked around as if trying to see what kind of trap was about to be sprung.

“You know my name…” She licked her lips. “What is yours?” Adriana didn’t bother to question how this person knew her name. She was currently talking to her inside her brain so any goes, she supposed.

“Hmph, you earned it. I am known by many names: I am Eislia when I awake.”

“And...what are you?” That got a chuckle from Eislia, deep and throaty. Founders above, she was hot. ‘Stop it Adri!’ she quickly chastised herself.

“That would be too easy, and you are far too smart—you will have to figure that out. It will be more fun that way!” She said, grinning. As if some event was being waited on, she looked up, then smiled to herself. “Now, we get back to the story. Enjoy the tale, have a good time with it, Adriana.” with that, everything seemed to snap into another reality. As if a reel was being replaced on a show. The image changed with jarring suddenness.

They were back in the district. The air was of a different kind: murky and wet. Disgusting how gross reality was when you were flung back to it. Adriana let out a cough, her breath catching in her crushed throat. She fell to her knees, and felt hands on her. They were not the massive hands of the former mystery woman (now dubbed Eislia.) It was Mia. “Hey, what the hell!? Adriana!?” Adriana had a hard time paying attention to her, or well, anything at all really. Her head buzzed and her fingers hurt like hell. The pain let itself be known so suddenly, Adriana had to suck in a breath. This caused more coughs to wrack her into a more slumped position.

She looked over to see Mia crouched over her. Beyond her was Eislia, felled onto her side. “Heh, Mia...look, I won.” Adriana felt a giggle bubble up in her throat, she hiccuped then, fell into something soft and yielding. Her flesh having given out from all of the strain.

It seems she hit her limit.

#writers of tumblr #My writing #fantasy #Queer Writing #have at it

[paradoxbeta]

ive gotten to the point where im making cult of the lamb ocs. this is the point of no return i have no motivation to clean these up :,)

info under the cut

JAGEON

“The minute you have something nice, the whole world wants it. Doesn’t matter if they cared before or not.”

(he/him)

Jageon is a bat from… a region. I have not thought this through. Probably makes his first appearance in Anura or wherever Heket’s realm is. He had his wing slashed by jealous peers when he was a young child before he was able to fly and is salty about it to this day. He wants to build something to finally fly, but has been unable to fork up the resources. Talisman quest maybe? (i really just made him as a dude to sell bone shards. i always run out of those the second I’m in desperate need of a ritual and my dissenters are off raving in the distance. )

There’s not much info about him in the world, but not in a myserious way. In a background NPC way. He’s my favorite of the two design-wise.

PERET

“It’s amusing to see, through their statues, how their perception of me has warped through generations.”

(she/they)

Peret is a weasel and a lesser god. They inspired the construction of, and control, wealth statues. They haven’t showed back up in villages in a while, so the statues are based on the old stories of them rather than their actual appearance. Because the statues are different than what they actually look like, they don’t have full control over them like they used to when the statue was more tailored to their visage.*

*There used to be statues that looked more like them, but they were destroyed because the world doesn’t take kindly to competing gods. People who still followed their worship rebuilt them based on stories, and the cycle continues.

Peret hasn’t shown up to villagers in a while because, while she will never admit it, she is afraid of invoking the wrath of a bishop. She has no quarrels with them and is content to stay under the radar and away from their reign; unless, of course, an opportunity should present itself… That being said, Peret is suspiciously eager to help the Lamb fulfill their conquest. For 25 gold, you roll a 50/50 chance of either obtaining an extra tarot card given immediately on your next crusade or gaining nothing. (She blames the nothing outcome on her flimsy statue power, but the honesty of that can be debated.) They either stay in Midas’s cave or the lighthouse area (i haven’t decided).

Peret is sneaky and conniving, ready and willing to do cruel things for power (in the form of money, as more wealth gives them more strength) should it come to it. The only real reasons they give back money/rewards after offerings is to entice people into continuing to give, and as a means to regulate her money, so she doesn’t accidentally become too powerful and make a bishop feel suspicious or threatened. Not as gratefulness for her followers.

#cult of the lamb #cult of the lamb oc #my art #digital art #ocs #original character #art #bat