#was younger and has flip flopped a bit over the years

[survivoirs]

Me when one of my muses might not be as gay as originally planned: Ok what pretty girl made you forget how words work?

#eh sexuality is fluid as is writing muses. LOL sometimes things change #ooc #LOL not even in a thread or anything made this happen LOL but my Mardon might be bi/pan afterall which to be fair is what he thought when h #was younger and has flip flopped a bit over the years #it's fine he will still actively avoid relationships anyways LOL #least he tries. it doesnt always work XD #not sure yet. ill let him figure it out #Mark ur dangerous if youre bi. stupid lady killer face AASDFGHJK #and he knows it that bastard #tbh the struggles of comp het also LOL who knows

[fandomfluffandfuck]

(before i get into the meat of this ask i wanna say that i loved the first chapter of your fic so much xx)

okay. you know how it's like really fucking hot right now?? in the uk it is, anyway-

well.

think modern steve and bucky, a little younger (around 17-18-ish) - childhood best friends who go everywhere together and have virtually no secrets. So basically canon stucky but they haven't been fucking since they were old enough to know how to use their dicks...

it's the hottest day of the year so far and theyre sitting on steve's bed. Bucky's there because his fan broke (again) and has got a bowl of ice sitting on his chest, sucking on the cubes as Steve works away on this sketch he has to finish. They're both shirtless because even clothes are becoming too much to wear.

They're talking about stupid things, like if summer or winter is better (bucky says winter because no matter how cold it is you can always layer up - and he's right, by the way), what they would do if they were suddenly trapped in their favourite videogame (there's no way steve isn't getting ripped apart by a clicker from the last of us - his little artist hands would be no good with a gun), when Bucky asks,

"Do you have any gum?"

Steve, barely looking up from this one corner of his sketch that he's been erasing and redrawing to get the shape right, nods towards his bedside drawer.

"There should be some in there, I think," he says, and Bucky leans over to open it.

"Uh... steve?" Bucky asks, and Steve's eyes widen as he looks over at his friend and sees what he has in his hand.

"What the fuck- Bucky, put that back!" Steve puts his sketchbook beside him and tries to grab at Bucky's hand, missing it and flopping pathetically down onto the bed.

"Hey-! No, you can't- look, there's nothing embarrassing about having this... well- what even is it?"

"That's none of your business," Steve huffs, trying again to grab at his hand again, "Put it back. Please."

"What- oh-!"

Bucky's found the little button at the bottom of the vibrator and has decided to turn it on.

"Wait, does this go on your..."

"Yes, Bucky, it goes on my dick, now- give it back." Steve tries, holding out his hand. Bucky doesn't give it back - he keeps playing with the settings until he finds the highest one and presses it to his forearm.

"Holy shit," he murmurs, forgetting Steve is watching him for a moment, "You're not fucking around with this thing, huh?"

"Bucky..."

"How long?"

"What?"

Steve stares at Bucky, gaze flitting quickly from his chest to his eyes. Bucky raises his eyebrows, turning off the toy and facing Steve.

"How long do you usually last?" he asks, like it's as normal a thing than if he was asking the weather. How long do you usually last?

"It's getting a bit warmer in here, I'll turn the fan up-" Steve tries changing the subject, reaching for the fan's remote by stretching his arm across Bucky's laid out body. Bucky grabs his hand before he can reach, though, and their position is conflicting in so many ways.

"Tell me," Bucky says again, looking at Steve with dark eyes an watching the blond's stomach tremble with the effort of holding himself up, "How long can you last before you can't take it anymore?"

Steve's skin is burning from both the general heat and how Bucky's holding onto his wrist, tight enough so he can't go anywhere yet loose enough that if Steve pulls hard enough, he could free himself.

"I.. I don't know."

Bucky grins at that, and flips them over so he's on top of Steve, hovering, because their skin is sticky due to how hot it is in the room.

"You don't know?" Bucky asks, picking up the vibrator again and holding it in his hand, "Well - how about we find out?"

and thennnn.....

then steve comes within the first five minutes of being teased on the lowest setting because Bucky's chest and lips and eyes are right there and they set him off (along with the words he whispers in his ear in a totally platonic, non-sexual way because having a vibrator between your hand and another man's dick is totally not classed as a handjob - right?????)

*insert unintelligeble screaming noises*

bucky and steve's brains rn: imnotgayimnotgayimnotgayimnotgay-

enjoy my word vomit

"Sit" my new fic, part one of a new series 👀

(Thank you so much! I'm so glad people seem to be enjoying it, and I loved your response, especially, haha)

I will enjoy this 👀

I love, love, love the idea of Bucky picking up the vibrator, getting it to the highest setting and having his eyes widen as he feels it because, holy shit, that's fucking intense! Even on his arm! Bucky's opinion of Steve's sexual preferences (that he certainly has NOT thought about before, no, they're close buds, but not that close. Nope.) is rapidly forming, and it's... he's impressed. He can withstand this? Wrapped around his dick! How!?

But then--

Then, Bucky learns the truth.

And the truth is that Steve is sensitive; he's never even tried the highest setting. He struggles, on the lowest setting, to keep quiet--whimpering and biting back moans as it slides up and down his shaft, buzzing. He doesn't need more. The lowest is enough.

The lowest is enough to have him cumming embarrassingly quickly. When he orgasms with the assistance of the vibator, as Bucky quickly learns, he quivers. He shakes. He can't stop squirming, even after his cock is done cumming, painting his concave belly. The vibrations just... they crawl inside him, freying his nerves and setting a fire inside him that takes a while to burn down to coals.

It's fucking incredible to watch.

He looks so hot, squirming and panting and turning pink, hands balled into fists, mouth open, eyebrows drawn together.

Bucky needs a repeat performance. He needs several. For science. With and without the vibrator. All different levels of the vibrator. All different intensities of hand jobs and--

Yeah.

This has to happen again. A damn has been broken, they can't stop doing this now. They've only just started! Besides, Bucky hasn't gotten to try it yet 👀

Thank 👏🏻 you 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 this 👏🏻

I love this idea. It's incredibly delicious. I'm always here for first times 👀 I'm always here for poor, sensitive, squirming boys. I'm always, always here for sex toys.

#asks #whiteglovemanor #anon provided writing #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky

[moodymisty]

Hi! I'm brain rotting over here as I play Darksiders 2 and was just wondering how Death would be with a more battle type gender neutral mc? Maybe they met when mc accidentally ambushed him and he's been stuck with them ever since? Maybe a ton of scars on them,,,

Author's note: Omg I am so sorry anon, You got swamped in the bottom of my inbox;; Here, I hope these HC formatted thoughts and a little drabble is enough as forgiveness.

Relationships: Death/Fem!Reader

Warnings: None really, other than a brief mention of bruises and scares

Given how Death seems to be a magnet for all sorts of people despite hating people, it probably wouldn't take too long for him to come across some sort of cornered human.

Be they in the remains of Earth, or hell, even taken as a 'pet' by a demon to Hell.

You won't be doing any sort of actual damage to him when you attempt to attack him, but he has to admit he admires the gusto.

Though in his younger years he would've found it insulting, as he'd still had a fair share of cockiness back then he's since rid himself off. Maybe you just didn't realize what you were attempting to attack wasn't human.

He'd probably like a taglaong, even if he denies it. He's so used to not having companionship during his countless outings, that having another soul beside him is odd. He habitually pushes it away.

He sees a bit of himself in you sometimes. The way you're so desperately clawing for your own life against all odds.

Just don't constantly be so twitchy and looking around every corner, it makes him on edge also and he hates it.

The soft remnants of a fire burning out, embers floating upward, Death looks over at you.

You're finally asleep; Laying on your side facing him. Your legs are curled up close to your body in an attempt to stay warm, without anything but your clothes to protect you from the frigid weather.

With just enough light, Death can spot your one arm that's lazily flopped outward, in the general direction of whats left of the fire. In it's glow, he can see the bruise around your wrist, once a deep purple now partly fading to a sickly green.

To think, he almost feels remorse about that now.

Death is well aware humans are more fragile, but not that fragile. He barely grabbed you to stop you from pulling a dumb stunt, and now your skin clearly shows the mark of where he'd nearly hurt you much worse.

You had flipped around the wall with your gun, only to have a hand gripped around your wrist so tight, you were forced to drop it. No matter how much you clawed at the hand, he refused to let go.

And you had very much wanted him to, once you had gotten a sight of what you attempted to protect yourself from.

"Are you dense?"

Your knees had wanted to buckled underneath you, and partly did, but his grip had held you so tight it kept you upright.

You weren't dense, he remembers, you were just trying to protect yourself. He'd without knowing cornered you in that room, and you had only known to fight.

You were surprisingly quick to forgive it, and even going so far as to shadow him, once you realized he wasn't going to eat you alive. Contrary to his appearance. But Death wasn't in the mood for tagalongs, and had only accepted under the guise that he was going to drop you off at the nearest group of humans he would come across.

But there was none. Death finds his mouth bitter at the realization that your race is all but gone. You're a fighter and have kept going this long, but sooner or later that luck will run out. The scars on your hands and arms have all but proven with as many close calls you've escaped, you don't have much favor with lady luck left.

The Ravaiim, The Nephilim, so many races trampled underfoot. Humanity is just another one to add to the list, Death solemnly thinks.

"Hngh," Death looks over and notices you shifting in your sleep, the arm he'd bruised sliding close to your body. Your knife is still on your person, but you'd laid your gun close to where your head is. Death reaches over and nudges it away, assuring you don't hit it in your sleep.

He looks away again, content to just ignore your mumbling and shifting. Even as it increases, and your face seems more distressed the next time he takes a glance.

When you end up shifting close enough to him that you bump into his leg, he sighs.

One hand grasps our shoulder with a gentle pressure- conscious now of being softer than he had with your wrist. It stops your shifting and the touch seems to quell your nightmare, and you still. He moves to brush a chunk of hair that fell into your face away. Death keeps his hand there until he feels you start to wake up hours later, and pulls away before you realize.

#darksiders death x reader #Darksiders/reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Character Profile — Australia

Character Name: Australia, Commonwealth of Australia, Oz, Straya, Jack, Jackfruit, Jackie, My dear boy. 1795-1916 - John Christian Kirkland. 1916-1919 - Jack Kelly. 1919--1942 Jack Kirkland. 1942-???? Jack Christian Kelly and Jack Kaipo when he needs to match Zee for security purposes/prove family relation. He loves the fact his initials are JK.

Age: About 18-21 after 1901. Before then about 2-3 years older than Zee. He started about 12 years younger than Matt and 18 younger than Alfred but closed the gap to about 2-3 years younger than Matt and 4-5 years younger than Alfrd by 1941.

Height: 5'10/180cm after 1901, 6'0/183cm after 1918, 6'2/189cm after 1950.

Physical Description: A very happy, sunny, solid baby, Jack grew up to be the stockiest of his siblings and every bit as athletic as the rest of them. He has a good body for Australian football, is broad-shouldered and will probably get a bit barrel-chested as he gets older, but he's still somewhat slim with youth. He has something of Rhys' softness to him but isn't as prone to carrying any extra weight. His sense of balance hadn't caught up to his height for most of his life, so he was always falling over and still fairly clumsy. All of his siblings have dimples, but his show the most. He's practically always smiling, and his whole body says welcome in a very open, friendly, slightly manic way, generally.

Eye colour: Dark green, closer to Brighid's than Arthur's lighter green. They can look brown depending on what he's wearing, but they are technically green.

Hair colour/style: Wavy/curly dark brown hair shot through with coppery auburn in sunlight. Generally cropped short and worn back, but it's always getting messed up somehow. Alfred's never seen him without putting his knuckles through the kid's hair. He's had a mullet, and Zee fucking hated being seen with him in public when he had it, but generally, he keeps it short and neat, and he pushes off his face with a little bit of gel.

Other distinguishing physical traits: He's got his dad's eyes and brows, the poor bastard. Also, he has a clicky jaw from where he nearly got his face blown off at Gallipoli, limps a little when it's cold, or he's depressed from where he got shot in the thigh, also at Gallipoli but exacerbated by not letting it heal properly before he got back to work. Also, dimples. He's got the cutest goddamn dimples, and they're almost always showing.

Personal Appearance/Style: Jack may as well be colour-blind when it comes to clothes, especially in cold climates, because he's putting together an ensemble from the most random shit. Theoretically, he likes looking nice and professional, but he's always the first person to undo a tie. It was impossible to keep him in proper clothes as a child. Even when he was freezing, he hated high collars. When he first became a dominion, he was insufferably fussy, trying to make a good impression before realizing that wasn't him. He returned to being normal and in varying degrees of undress for the time being. At home, if he's not in Canberra, it's a lot of cargo shorts, board shorts, neon budgie smugglers, crocs, thongs (flip-flops), and hiking boots. He's also got absolutely no goddamn resistance to cold, so he's bundling up at like 20 degrees. His sweaters, sports jerseys, long sleeve flannelette shirts and jackets are often casualties of Zee's love of oversized stuff.

Verbal Style: He can switch between the three types of Australian fairly well, Broad, general and cultivated, depending on the situation, but his default is fairly broad. He doesn't have much of a gift for second languages. Still, he knows most of his own languages, is fairly fluent in Irish, and has a smattering of mispronounced Arabic, Greek, Italian, Indonesian, and Balinese. He made a habit of butchering French, Mandarin and Japanese to be a pain in the ass. He loves thickening his accent as much as possible around Arthur for the shits and giggles.

Level of Education: He had the least formal education before WW2. Arthur tried putting him in about a dozen schools in England and Australia, and he always got in some trouble. He started excelling at something like education when Arthur allowed him to live with the naturalists who found Australia fascinating. Arthur made him do a stint in the navy trying to make a leader out of him around when Zee and Leon were at Oxford, but Matt had to go pick him up from Cape Verde or some random ass British port because he was so seasick. He did well in piano and other sorts of lessons at home, however. He learned how to fly in 1917, took a few courses during WW1 with Khaki University, and ended up attending the University of Melbourne, just attending random classes in the 1920s because he couldn't select anything. In 1939, took the same flying course as Zee in anticipation of the war. After WW2, he got a degree in veterinary medicine and took graduate courses in paleontology, biology and zoology.

Occupation: He sometimes gets stuck doing government shit but generally rotates between biology, animal and wildlife conservation, and some diplomatic things.

Past Occupations: Veterinarian, ambulance driver, artilleryman, subaltern, paleontologist, stock hand, botany collection tech, flight bombardier, pilot, diplomat, animal rehabilitator, fireman, and a very, very brief stint as a sailor.

Skills, Abilities or Talents: As far as special nation abilities go, he's much more resistant to heat, sun, and dehydration than he should be if he were human. He's absolutely fantastic at identifying plants, animals and another natural phenomena. He's fantastic at finding the water too. Of his generation of Anglos, he's got the best singing voice and the best ability to carry a tune. Collects songs in his head like a jukebox. Fantastic on horseback.

Admirable Personality Traits: Good-natured, easy-going, generous, intelligent, egalitarian and sunny.

Negative Personality Traits: Destructive anger, forgetfulness, carelessness, and overly self-critical.

Sense of Humor: Self-depreciative, sarcastic, irreverent and pun loving. He often gets a gentle smack upside the head from his aunt, uncles and sister for his puns and snark.

Physical/Mental illness or affliction: As the third son who was never allowed to forget he was born in a penal colony, he can be somewhat prone to low self-worth and doubts about his place in the world. He can also be a wildly moody drunk and will drink to cope but not quite as much as his relatives. You can sometimes find him depressedly lying on a hot rock like a very sad lizard. He's also extremely unfocused, prone to losing time, likes to fidget and can't sit still for love or money.

Hobbies/Interests: Scuba diving, rugby, Australian football, cricket, surfing, swimming, audiobooks, wine tasting/vineyard cultivation and anything that'll keep his hands busy so he can pay attention. Horse racing and riding.

Favourite Foods: Fish and chips, pavlova, a burger with the lot and wild foraged things, especially Kakadu plums. He loves wine, he's very proud of his wine.

Most important personal item: Arthur's silver money clip for his becoming a dominion in 1901 is up there, but he's also very attached to a St. Christoper medal Brighid gave him that he never wears unless travelling but is nonetheless attached to. Alfred also gave him a bowie knife at the 1851 Great Exhibition he's had since.

Person/friend close to character: Zee. She's his best friend, neighbour, baby sister and drinking buddy and at the end of the day, she's the only person he'd always consider family, no matter what. He maintains good ties with obviously his 'family', India, Japan, Taiwan, Indonesia, and his immediate neighbours. Also, strong ties to Herakles and Romano.

Brief family history: Born in the very last years of the 18th century, he spent his earliest days outside the penal colony but some of his earliest years in the settlement with Brighid. He knew her as his mother and had a hard time adjusting to calling her Aunt Brighid and sometimes will call her mum if he's drunk or in pain even now. But she eventually had to write to Alasdair, who came and took him to England. In that family structure, he was the third son, with only one older brother accessible at the time. Later, after Zee was born, they met the firstborn, and he understood how he came to be. His identity often confuses him when he thinks about it, so he doesn't tend to.

Most painful experiences in the character’s past: His first years as a penal colony put an absolutely neurotic hatred of helplessness in him, but Gallipoli, Fromelle, the Battle of Singapore, Passchendaele, Black Friday bushfire.

Their Song: Summer is a Curse by the Faim

#Character Sheets || bodies and flesh of borders and fences #jack || a land of summer skies #hws australia

[salt-is-a-terrible-currency]

The ring

Written for day 10 of the Narcos fandom smut alphabet over on @narcosfandomdiscord

Fandom: Narcos

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Words: 1 110

Pairing: Javier x OFC Aurora

Prompt: jealousy

Warnings: smut, exhibitionism, angsty

Cameo by a young Matt Graver, my favourite asshole from the Sicario movies!

“That a Cane corso?” Aurora looks up, caught off-guard by the unfamiliar man’s voice at her left side. She’s met by bright blue eyes with dark blonde hair falling into them and a grin that she can’t interpret though she narrows it down to either self-assured or intoxicated, or possibly a combination of the two. He’s a couple of years younger than her, maybe late 20’s, and thick tanned arms poke out from the white t-shirt. He’s pointing to the tattoo on the outside of her left shoulder. It’s a portrait of Bane, the dog gifted to her by her grandfather when she went to college. The tattoo itself was her gift to herself for Christmas last year.

“Yeah.” Aurora rubs the tattoo absentmindedly. “She was my first dog.” The man grins even wider, like he’s won a bet.

“Always wanted one,” he says, “but I don’t think my lifestyle would allow it. I travel too much. Name’s Matt, by the way.” Matt reaches his hand out and, although hesitantly, Aurora shakes it. He’s got to be law enforcement, she thinks. His hands aren’t blistered like a rancher’s, but she’s never seen a businessman in bluejeans and drinking Lone Star.

“Good to meet you, Matt.” As she takes him in, another detail catches her eye. His footwear. Flip-flops. Who the hell wears flip-flops to a bar?

“You new in town?” she asks, trying her hardest not to stare at his exposed feet. Matt shrugs.

“I’ve passed through once before,” he explains, “but this time I’m staying a bit longer.” He might’ve gotten reassigned then, or maybe he’s doing part of his training here. Aurora nods in recognition but does nothing else to further the conversation. Matt props both elbows onto the bar, raises an eyebrow at her.

“So what’s your name?” he presses. Aurora considers the options. She doesn’t find him particularly intimidating, that icy feeling that runs down her spine whenever she speaks to people that are objectively bad news not making its presence known. Still, she doesn’t trust him.

“I don’t give out my name to strangers.” Aurora says it as politely as she can. She’s not in the mood to cause yet another scene at this particular bar, and hopes that Matt will have the decency to take the hint. He nods, flags down the bartender for another beer, then turns to her.

“Fair,” he agrees. “Let’s get to know each other then, so we won’t be strangers.” There’s that icy feeling, just a hint of it at the base of her skull.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says, a little sterner now. Even if it wasn’t for Javier’s furrowed brow and pursed lips which she spots across the bar where he’s catching up with an old coworker from the sheriff’s office, she’d have no intention of continuing the conversation. Matt’s grin fades. Not fully, it just dims.

“Alright.” He throws his hands up. “I can take a no.” His voice is so easygoing, enough so that for a split second Aurora questions if she’s read him wrong. She silences that doubt quickly: so the guy’s charming, that doesn’t mean he’s not an asshole.

“Was nice talking to you though, Matt,” she says. “Hope Laredo treats you well.”

⁂

“Who was that?” Javier asks as soon as he’s reached her side. She shrugs, takes another sip of her beer.

“Some guy who’s in town for a bit. Tried to flirt but I shut him down.” Javier pouts and throws another glance over his shoulder at Matt, who has retreated to a booth where he’s talking to a redhead who she’s seen around but doesn’t know the name of. Aurora’s already moved on in her mind, wondering if the rest of the week will be as hellishly warm as the first three days have been, when Javier pipes up:

“What did he say to you?” There’s nothing subtle about Javier’s jealousy. He wears it on his sleeve, just like he does with his anger and his joy.

“Asked about my tattoo, gave me his name, asked me mine and when I said no he backed off,” Aurora summarizes. She turns to face Javier, reaches for his fingers and squeezes them gently. That finally makes him look at her instead of at Matt. He squeezes her fingers back.

“We need to fix your ring,” he states. He’s not wrong. The second Javier went to slip his mom’s ring around Aurora’s finger three weeks ago it became obvious that Maria and her did not share a ring size. Javier’s ears turned red with embarrassment and he mumbled his way through an apology for not finding a window to discreetly check Aurora’s size. She kissed him soundly and agreed that they could get it fixed sometime when they were running other errands in town.

“You’re right. How about tomorrow?” she suggests. “It’s about time for a grocery run, don’t you think?” It’s really not but she can see the way his mind is spinning out of control, and knows that if she doesn’t pull the brakes for him he’ll be up all night wondering if she’s about to regret the engagement and take off. Javier’s jaw, tense ever since he sat Matt lingering at your side, begins to relax.

“Tomorrow,” he agrees. “But there’s something we can do right now that would make it clear you’re taken.”

⁂

The pickup really isn’t made for this. Aurora raises herself as much as she can to give Javier space to work his jeans and briefs down, her head touching against the roof. She pulled her underwear off before climbing in, leaving them on the passenger seat while her skirt spreads over his lap to provide some cover should anyone come knocking at the window. He parked far enough away from the entrance that they’re not in plain view of anyone coming and going but not so far away that it could be considered hidden away. Javier fumbles his way inside of her, unused to the cramped space. He hasn’t done this in years, after all, not since his back started aching. Aurora lets him control the pace, the movements. Just rocks with him in the driver’s seat of the old car.

“Let me see the ring,” he rasps. She obeys, pulling the thin silver chain from where it’s fallen into her cleavage and lays it to rest on the outside of her tank top. Immediately, Javier’s eyes focus on it and the stabs of his hips turn more forceful. She rests her chin atop his head, presses a kiss to the damp curls.

“We’re getting it fixed tomorrow,” she promises.

#nffalphabet #javier pena fic #javier pena x ofc #narcos fic

[ewan-mo]

Under the mango tree

Wednesday 27th September 2023

My favourite clinics are held under a mango tree. This morning we joined Amuron to do just such a clinic. But it was a little bit complicated to get there..

Amuron was our first Jamie’s Fund graduate. When we first met her we were struck by her warm compassion and her heart for people with mental illness. She is now a fully qualified Psychiatric Clinical Officer, and with her colleague Joseph, leads the mental health service at Kumi Hospital, a former leprosy hospital, way out of town and usually very peaceful.

Our driver Hassan picked us up at 8.15 and we called first at the hospital for the customary meeting, chaired on this occasion by the in-charge of Human Resources. Warm appreciation on both sides was definitely part of it. Once again we are struck by their expressions of thanks:

“Thank you for loving us”. 

“Thank you for loving Uganda and for coming to us”.

We believe it matters that we do come, to express what someone has called the ministry of presence.

Out then to the clinic, a fair way away. We are out in rural Uganda here, and in some senses traditional Africa, with the old thatched roofs, even though the walls are brick. 

Our route led us down smaller and smaller roads, until we were joined by a local man, who cheerfully ran ahead of the vehicle to show the way down the ever tinier paths to the mango tree where the patients were waiting. 

One older lady raised her arms in the air with a great chorus of ululations to welcome us, and the others joined in as we shook hands with everyone. 

They had come! Always the first challenge. And they had brought their records, in an exercise book, many pretty dog-eared but still functioning. Amuron gave some health education and the clinic proceeded. 

Quite a mix: mostly epilepsy but with some mental illness, including new patients. Older and younger, including some toddlers, male and female. Shy quiet ones, and some great characters. All of human life is here under the mango tree.

One lady appeared very low and tearful, but was reluctant to talk. I watched Amuron deal so kindly and gently with her and begin to form the relationship that will be the beginning of healing. 

I hope you have gathered that everyone is sitting around together. They listened to each other’s stories – or not, if they were attending to babies or going to the toilet or other necessities. But no one thinks twice about the confidentiality that is so important to us. 

This is a collectivist society, different from our own individualistic one. People belong together, share each other’s concerns, pray for each other, understand each other. It is of no great importance if they hear each other’s consultations; they need each other in order to get through their lives with so many challenges. 

The person who clearly did not want others to be involved was the quiet tearful lady. We think there is more to her story than we yet know, and Amuron will continue to talk gently with her for as long as needed.  

This was one of the bikes used to get to the clinic – old and tough, no gears and not much in the way of brakes either. It will have carried all kinds of things over the years.  Some welding on the frame, but it is still very useful.

These are flip flops made from old car tyres.  Called “thousand milers” by some

After the clinic we had a four hour drive back to Bushbaby lodge, which was a pleasantly easy one.  It is cooler here.  Kampala tomorrow.  We just heard this afternoon we can meet the lead for Mental Health in the ministry tomorrow afternoon.  Glad that that has fallen into place.

[hermannco]

I loved the designs you did for cane and able in codotverse, reminds me of wendell and wild from the new stop motion movie!

what inspos went behind your designs if you are okay with telling

I've had those designs stashed for years

if anything Wendell and Wild GOT INSPIRED BY ME!!!! /j

Lmao thank you

I'm about to info dump and dont take anything I say as Canon, this is me hyperfxating and having LITERALLY too much information in my brain about to random ass motherfuckers.

Okay so, fun things. About Inspo.

ABOUT CAIN: Normal Cain. Soft, grandpa man.

2008 Cain. (From a HoM comic I am not too fond of except...)

Fucking sharp lunatic with his hair going EVERYWHERE. Constantly UNHINGED.

And so I decided to strike right on the middle bcs I always enjoyed the idea of this motherfucker flipping like a switch, also because he is an older brother, and he cleans the house and does the crops and tells stories and helps with the animals and maintains the house, and is fuzzy and very classic focused. But you know, he will also murder Abel in a split second and he gets a JOY doing it. Most of the time. But also enough to live with him normally and still have dinners and get mad when someone else hurts him.

His front hair flop also comes from the fact that he has to hide the "MARK OF CAIN" TM. The one that hits you 7 times worse if you hurt him. He has no control of what that shit does tho.

Also fun fact, the houses are located in Kentucky (Unless they are teleporting) and stuck in the 70s aesthetically LMAO.

So I sharpened the old man, still gave him kind eyes. I unbrokened his nose, because is impossible to break it without you dying, so this man is SURPRISINGLY DELICATE when it comes to fights.

A well groomed beard that can be easily messed up. And big CAINines.

The clothes are just classic Cain clothes but pushin a little bit more of the military ww1 aesthetic he is placed with.

The long and short, Grandpa please go to bed.

ABOUT ABEL:

Younger frisky freer brother.

A lot of Abel is based of Harveydont's Abel work. In all honestly we both worked on these bozos over the years.

Regardless here is the explanation for his look at least on my end.

He has always been a fancy little lad, a lot more pristine than his brother. A lot of the thought behind Abel is how he does a lot less of heavy work such as gardening or house renovating, but does things such as cooking and sweeping and organizing. Which is why he can always afford to be dressed to the nines.

Always seems to dress BETTER and be well more mannered. But while nicer he is also a trickster. So He can't be a circle.

Anyway, this picture also has done its millage.

This is the ORIGINAL sketch for Abel by Joe Orlando. I think my man nailed it first try. There has been A LOT of Cains over the years, but Abel always... ALWAYS relatively looks like this. And I have NO ROOM to complain.

As you can visibly see he hasn't changed much... I just put a knife to him and sharpened his features, as well give him bigger eyes than Cain bcs 1) makes him also look unhinged 2) Can also look more innocent.

Also his mutton chops are cleaner, in general his look is more put together and softer. He is supposed to be PRISTINE. The ring on his hand is because CANNONICALLY, Abel wears the gayest shit in the comics and I something he could fiddle with when nervous. (Mesh shirt while cooking, you know, gay club look just while cooking, iconic. Speak your truth, king.)

Also I made their skin darker bcs I am tan to darker color and I Was like, lol I can't be stopped now!

I hope this helps.

#anonymous #MITHOM #the noir art #noir talks #cain and abel

[fuji-tsukishima]

Bold What's true

My first name:

A-F G-K L-P Q-Z I love my name I hate my name My name is hard to pronounce My name is boring I have a nickname My age: I am considered a minor I am over 18 I am under 13 I am between the ages of 13 and 18 I wish I was older I wish I was younger I like my age I know how to drive I drink/smoke and I am underage My appearance: I have brown hair I have blonde hair I have black hair I have red hair I have an unnatural hair color I’ve dyed my hair before I’ve gotten highlights/low lights before I have curly hair I have straight hair I have wavy hair I have frizzy hair I straighten my hair regularly I have brown eyes I have blue eyes I have grey eyes

I have green eyes My eyes change color I use color contacts I have glasses I use regular contacts I got laser eye surgery. I am under 5’4” I am over 5’4” I am under or on 5 foot I am over or on 6 foot I love my height I hate my height I am happy with my size I wish i was skinnier I wish I was a bit larger I am trying to lose weight I have gone on fad diets before I have taken diet pills and laxatives I have fasted before

I have purged before I have/had an eating disorder My shoe size is a 3-5 My shoe size is 6-8 My shoe size is a 9 or above It’s hard for me to find shoes that fit   Style/Makeup: I shop at stores like Abercrombie, Hollister, and American Eagle I shop at Hot Topic I shop at stores like PacSun and Zumiez I shop at stores like Bloomingdales and Saks I shop at stores like Forever 21 and Urban Outfitters I shop at Wal-Mart, Target, and K-Mart I shop at H&M , Zara , C&A , New Yorker and River Island I hate shopping I love shopping I own clothes I bought more than 5 years ago I own a designer purse I love over-sized tote bags I hate skinny jeans I wear high-waisted jeans Mary-Kate Olsen has good style I love buying shoes I own a pair of converse I love Uggs I love flip-flops I get my nails done regularly I wear perfume I hate pedicures I wear fake eyelashes I wear a lot of makeup I wear a small bit of makeup I don’t wear any makeup I wear eyeliner every day I wear lipstick every day I wear lip liner every day I love Burt’s Bees I feel uncomfortable wearing mini skirts I wear a lot of low cut shirts to show cleavage I like high heels I can’t walk in high heels I love wedges I love jeans I wear thongs and g-strings only if im wearing leggings or a dress/skirt I wear granny panties I wear regular underwear I buy all of my bras from Victoria’s Secret I love Victoria’s Secret’s PINK line School: I am in middle school I am in high school I am in college/university I am a high school dropout I am home schooled I go to a private school I go to a Catholic school I have skipped a grade I have been held back a grade I have Honors marks I am in one or more advanced classes I am in regular classes My favorite class is English I love science I hate English I love math I am currently failing one or more classes I have straight A’s I have straight B’s I have C’s or D’s I get a variety of marks depending on my course I love my teachers I hate my teachers I want to graduate now I love high school I am in band or choir I am in one or more school clubs I am in school sports I am on a Varsity or JV team I am in drama club My friends: I have a best friend I have multiple best friends I have many acquaintances My friends are crazy but I love them My friends and I do everything together I have a lot of guy friends I have equal girl and guy friends I have had the same best friend since kindergarten My best friends change like I change my underwear My friends and I get into many fights Significant others: I have a boyfriend/girlfriend I am single I have hooked up with one or more guys I have never been in a real relationship I am straight I am gay I am bisexual I am Pansexual I am Asexual I am Demisexual

I am boy-crazy

I have dated a friend’s ex I have never been kissed I have had an abortion I was pregnant in high school I have/had an STD I am saving myself until marriage I am waiting for the right “guy” to have sex with I lost my virginity when I was 13 or under I love tall guys I would date someone shorter than me I focus on personality I love green eyes I love blue eyes I don’t care about eye color Facial hair is sexy on boys Tattoos and piercings are sexy on girls I love nerds I would date someone in the army Family: I love my parents My parents annoy me My parents are strict My parents don’t care what I do I tell my parents everything I don’t tell my parents much I have 1+ brother(s) I have 1+ sister(s) I am the oldest I am in the middle I am the youngest I am an only child I have a sibling in college/university I babysit my siblings I love my grandparents One or more of my grandparents are alive I have family reunions Other stuff: I am a grammar nazi I love erasers Chocolate is sex I am pro-choice I am pro-life I believe in evolution I believe in creation I am a Democrat I am a Republican I don’t know what I am I love Bush I check the computer daily I use MSN I love Facebook I love MySpace I love Twitter I love Tumblr I love Chinese food

#personal #me #this is so fun ngl

[thenewyorkghostsblog]

ECDs in Texts

Visual Structure :

One thing that you will notice about this book is the fact that quotation marks aren’t used. When a character is talking, it simply looks like a regular sentence. Personally, I am planning to adapt this in my own writing, because I think it does a good job of portraying depression. It’s incredibly subtle, but it goes a long way to show how distant and unremarkable everything seems, and how easy it is for your brain to simply skip over something someone said.

Aural Structure (if any) :

This book wasn’t a song, and as such it’s surprising to find instances where it did sound like poetry. This book sounded like rainfall. It’s sentences were short and stilted. They packed in a punch. If you read through the texts, you’ll notice how direct everything is. It tells rather than shows, and I think that was a conscious choice on the author’s part. Because at the end of the world, who has the energy to write long flowery sentences? 

Development Structure :

I used to hate it when books did this, when I was younger. Flip flopping between two different narrative points or time periods. Over the years, my attention span has deteriorated to the point I’ve grown to enjoy it. Or perhaps this book was just incredibly well written. For between the main narrative, there are two other points of view. The character’s distant past, which explained why Candice turned out the way she did. And the character’s not so distant, but still distant past. And the days leading up to her leaving new york. Rather than relaying the events in a linear line, the story looped around and twisted, revealing bits and pieces at same time or holding out information until the very end. 

Although it’s hinted at, the readers don’t find out the character is pregnant until the middle of the book, although the character had known all along. It has a very Star Wars-esque feeling to it, which I’ve grown to appreciate. 

Perspective :

The book is written from the perspective of one character, split up into four. The character’s name is Candice, and throughout the narrative we get to look at her life as a child of three, see her growing up amongst immigrant parents, see her adult life, and finally find her travelling with a group of survivors through a post apocalyptic world. We see her head filled with fog for the most part, experiencing the world as if through a frosted glass wall, having removed herself from the narrative mentally while still being a part of it physically. Towards the end of the book, there is a distinct change within her, after a month spent imprisoned by a feverd maniac and a group of people she’d considered trustworthy if not even her friends. She is very much a jaded girl with generational trauma who cannot depend on drugs for dopamine. 

Character :

There is a diverse cast of characters throughout the novel. Candace, who I talked about at length in the paragraph above, is the one the story revolves around. However, there are many other personalities painted into the narrative. We see the story of a homesick immigrant mother who went from being one of the most highly valued people in the country to working 40 hours for $80 given under the table. We get to take part in the narrative of a hardworking father who ran the hell away from china, and vowed to never go back. Who got his degree in america, and worked until he dropped for the good of his family. We get to Candice’s coworkers, although they aren’t a separate unit - rather, their elitist, competitive workstyle is what is portrayed. The need to crawl to the top over one another, for the chance for money, status, and a nicer home. We see Jonathan, Candice’s boyfriend also someone who is wholeheartedly opposed to work culture, and only works enough that he can scrap by month to month. A starving artist who refuses to let go of his vision and replace it with money. We see Bob, a gamer whose wet dreams came true along with the apocalypse - which little boy doesn’t dream to be the leader of a group surviving in a post apocalyptic world? It seems the hundreds of hours spent playing World of Warcraft prepared him to be a good leader. Or so he thought. Maybe people should have pulled out all the stops when he shot a group member in the head, and locked up a pregnant woman for a month. We see Evan, who was so desperate for approval he popped 6 Xanax. 

Location :

This book has a strange way of shifting about, both in the present and in the past. It takes place in China, in New York, in Chicago, in abandoned malls and parking lots and homes with their dead occupants still alive and shambling about their walls. It takes place in subway tunnels overgrown by vegetation and in food courts with rotting food proudly on display, still being sold by its dead makers. 

Tropology (find at least 3 examples of these devices) :

IMAGERY - I could flip the book open to any page and get an example of beautiful imagery. For example, “It was a pretty casual place: fluorescent lighting, red tile floors, the smell if industrial cleaners. The dishes were served cafeteria style; you went up to the counter and told them what you wanted while they ladled food on your plate.” (198) 

METAPHOR - same with metaphors. The best way to put it is like Mike Ginn “Poets, we get it: things are like other things.” [x]. As for the actual quote, “The world was exploding into a party” (198).

SIMILE - “He looked like an old statue, curved over his desk like an ancient relic which had sat unmoving for thousands of years.” (174)

Rhetoric (find at least 3 examples) :

WORD ORDER - “Well I guess you’re leaving at the right time. I drank my water.” (200) What I like about this passage is that it indicates the right amount of sarcasm, spite, and anger, all in two sentences. The ‘I drank my water’ after such a powerful, accusatory sentence gets across the nonchalance with which Candice is trying to carry herself, all the while building up walls made out of the betrayal she felt. 

WORD CHOICE - On page 203, the words ‘news saturation’ are used by Jonathan, who forces Candice away from the news websites. This is a really powerful choice of wording, because it highlights the intensity of news and information bombarding generations from all sides these days, and opens up the conversation regarding fake info and hoaxes. 

SENTENCE STRUCTURE - “The parties had dispersed due to the rain, the rain that started dropping in bigger pelts, faster and steadier as we ran home.” (202) This sentence uses repetition to get its point across - something I myself use in a lot of my writing. I like this tactic, because it makes the words stick to the back of your brain, and makes sentences flow better. It makes neurodivergent brain go brrrrrr.  

Investigating Subject and Theme:  

List 3 subjects for the text – ROUTINE, MEANING, RELATIONSHIPS

Choose one or two of the subjects and write one well developed theme statement -

ROUTINE

This book has a very interesting take on the apocalypse. It takes about the end of the world as a sickness - the sickness of habit, of people falling in the same familiar rhythm and repeating it for the rest of their lives, stuck in time and unchanging. Of course, for the sake of entertainment, it takes this very real issue and paints it in shades of broken glass plants breaking through concrete. But the thing this book is trying to say, in it’s own didn’t-age-very-well-considering-2020-happened way, is that habit and routine are a trap, and that if you’re not careful, things in your life will consume you. 

MEANING

Mainly visible through the character of Jonathan, we can see the concept of ‘living a meaningful work’ plastered all over the pages of this book, first in the character’s refusal to give up his dreams, in Candice’s father telling her to make something of herself, in many families quitting their jobs and going to be together in their last days. We see it in the way Candice stubbornly refuses to leave new york, first because she had nowhere else to go, and then afterwards because she HAD found meaning in her work - in taking photographs for the New York Ghost. She only left afterwards, when all her viewers were dead. 

And I think that’s beautiful. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Do Us Part

Warnings: nonconsent and rape; oral, fingering, marital discord, cheating, spousal arguments and mental/emotional abuse, age gap (Peter is 24/25 and reader is 35/36)

This is dark!Peter Parker x 30s/’older’ reader and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find it hard to accept that not all good things last as you face the changes in your marriage, yourself, and your marriage.

Note: I wanted to write Peter again but also I’ve seen this nonsense about how 30+ writers are too old for fanfic which is dumb af. And I wanted to turn the age gap trope a little so that it wasn’t the reader being the younger one in the relationship. I label it older reader but I don’t think being in your 30s is old tbh (my bf is 36 so pfft). It was all just a conglomeration of circumstances that inspired a deceivingly sweet dark Peter and I hope you like it. Also it’s 7.4k so a bit of a longer read.

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You walked slowly along the transparent shelves set into the pristine white walls of the cosmetics section. The department store was a haze of distant voices and the chirp of scanners as customers milled the aisles and waited their turn to check out. You whiled away your time looking at things you’d never buy as you waited for your husband to return from the men’s department.

You thought of the sparse make-up bag under your sink and the liners and shades you hadn’t used in years. They were likely expired and better tossed in the bin. You hovered along the crystal bottle of designer scents and stopped to test a particular blush-tinted fragrance.

You set the bottle back and peered over at the dark cubbies that housed the men’s scent. Even from there, you could catch a whiff of the heady scents as a younger man with reddish brown hair examined an angular vial of Dior Men. You suddenly felt out of place; a mid-thirties woman in her out-of-season clothes fantasizing about overpriced perfume.

Your husband's voice further cemented your reality as you fingered the golden cap of the Coach eau du parfum. Wesley rolled his eyes and flipped up the little plastic panel that hid the bold prices and huffed.

“I hope you don’t think I’m gonna pay for that shit,” he sneered, “what have you been doing? I was waiting for you.”

He waved a plastic bag as his lip curled and you pressed your mouth shut tightly and swallowed. The day began with another argument as he discovered the seared hole in his shirt and instead of blaming the crappy old dryer, he blamed you. Most of your clothes had been chewed up by the thing but you never complained.

“No, I was just… looking,” you teetered in your flats and glanced around. The young man at the corner display quickly turned to hide his nosy observation, “did you find some new shirts?”

“No thanks to you,” he sniffed.

“Oh,” you played with the hem of your tee and tucked your hands into your pockets nervously. You’d left him to look alone as you only seemed to irritate him and rarely took your advice on matters of clothing, “well, I thought I’d give you some space--”

“Stop acting so pathetic. Start taking responsibility for yourself. For god’s sake, you're almost thirty-six and you don’t know how to hang a shirt to dry?” He spun on his heel and snapped over his shoulder, “let’s go.”

You flinched but followed behind him as he strode away and you stumbled out behind him through the automatic doors. He tossed the bag into the back seat and slammed the door before flopping angrily into the driver’s side. You mirrored him daintily and squeezed your legs together as you tried to make yourself as small as you could.

“I told you about the dryer,” you said.

“And?” he started the engine and slapped his hand around the wheel, “call a fucking electrician or some shit.”

“Alright,” you shrugged as he stopped at the exit of the parking lot and checked his phone quickly.

“Benny wants to do a round of golf,” he peeled out and you grasped the door as your heart raced. You hated how reckless he was when he was angry. You hated how easily he got angry these days.

“Okay,” you picked at the fraying stitching of your purse.

“Don’t start moping,” he sneered, “I fucking work all week and I can’t go out and have a few rounds?”

“I never-- I didn’t say anything,” you murmured.

“You don’t need to,” he turned the wheel sharply as he cut off another car, “you sit at home all day and do what?”

“I work too,” you said.

“Uh huh, sure, if that’s what you call it.”

You ran your fingertip over the bleach stain on the knee of your jeans and said nothing. When he was in a mood, he would latch on anything until he outright exploded. You tried to think of when he changed, when he had stopped being the chill guy you met back in college. It felt like a slow trickle, small things you ignored until it was a mountain you could not see past.

You felt like crying but you’d stopped that a while ago. You existed in a purgatory of acceptance and helplessness. You wanted him to love you again, wanted to believe you could fix things. So you would keep trying. You would do better.

💍 

You picked out a large flank of steak and winced at the price. You had a special dinner in mind. It was Friday and the work week was done. You wanted a weekend without a fight and Wesley was always one for a nice big cut of beef. You hadn’t made him one in a while, your dinners were the usual repetitive drumsticks and rice or your homemade mac and cheese.

You continued onto the fish section and grabbed some salmon for yourself. You’d gained some weight and decided to cut out dairy and red meat if you could help it. The pile of produce in your cart reminded you of the extra jiggle around your stomach and thighs. You also grabbed one of those women’s magazines that advertised a regimen to help slim your figure. You only hoped you could stick to it this time.

With your weekly haul in tow, you wheeled up to the check-out and waited behind a young man who looked oddly familiar to you. Maybe that was the passing years. You always felt a vague glimmer of deja vu, more often a sense of forlorn nostalgia of what you would never have again.

As you stared thoughtlessly, he looked over and smiled. He bent in front of your cart and picked up a thin packet of seasoning. 

“You dropped this,” he said as he held it out and you thanked him before quickly snatching it and looking away. 

He paid for his large bags of chips and over salted pre-packaged meals and packed up at the end as you loaded up your own goods, the cashier sending them down the parallel belt. You swiped your card and tried to calculate the chunk of money from your last check. You thanked the clerk and sidled past the young man as he finished up.

You rounded the counter as he lifted his three bags. You looked up without thinking, the sleeve of his shirt tight around his bicep. You caught yourself staring and looked back down as you packed in the cans. 

It reminded you of Wesley; he’d also started being more mindful, he hit the gym after work and you noticed the little pudge that started just after he turned thirty was slimming out. It was that exact reason that made you notice the extra pounds on your own frame, not that you didn’t realise before.

The man left and you unfolded the little buggy you slid under the cart. You loaded your bags into it and dragged the cart behind you as you made an awkward exit with both wheeled trolleys. The compact fabric buggy was easy enough to fit on the bus if you stood.

You pushed the cart into the row of empty ones and continued across the parking lot. You rolled up to the bus shelter and checked the bus times on your phone. You dug out your strip of tickets and ripped one away. You leaned on the thin handle of your trolley and looked over your shoulder as you heard someone approach.

The man who checked out ahead of you put his bags on the metal bench inside the shelter as he sipped on a bright drink from the place just beside the grocery shop. He sent you a smile over his straw and you spun back to crane your head and search for the bus.

When the metal beast barreled up and cranked to a stop at the curb, the man waited behind you and as your wheels caught on the edge of the ramp, he reached around you and helped push it over the lip. You thanked him shyly and continued up. Usually you tried to keep the shop light on weekdays but you hadn’t really been paying attention.

You pushed your cart against the small barrier just behind the accessible seating and stood beside it, conscious not to take up too much space. The man stood just behind you two bags on one shoulder and the other dangling from the opposite elbow as he sucked on his straw. You grabbed the upright bar as the bus took off and watched the electronic banner for your stop.

A sharp stop had you veering back and you were caught by the young man as he chucked, “oop, you okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” you muttered and gave a sheepish smile over your shoulder.

“There’s a seat,” he gestured just behind you, “I’ll watch your stuff.”

“Um, no it’s… fine,” you gripped the bar tighter as the bus shuttled forward, “my stop is soon.”

You looked ahead of you and three stops passed before yours. You exited through the front with your buggy and headed down the sidewalk as the bus pulled away. You were exhausted just from your little sojourn and it wasn’t even two o’clock. God, you felt old.

💍

You had a salad chopped and tossed and the steak and fish laid out and seasoned. As you listened to your old Spotify list, the music dipped and the notification blipped over the screen. You washed your hands and grabbed the phone. You frowned as you read the lone message from Wesley, the only one you got from him all day.

‘Just finished at the gym, getting drinks with Andrew,’ you read and re-read the message as your heart fell.

You typed out a whole angry response and backspaced it all. You replaced it with ‘ok, have fun’ and blacked the screen. You shoved the meat back in the fridge and stretched saran wrap over the bowl of salad. You placed it on a lower shelf and closed the door, quickly swiping a can of the craft beer Wesley kept around.

You shut the light off in the kitchen and ignored the pang in your stomach as you cracked the can. You climbed the stairs as you sipped the hoppy foam. You put it on the night table and changed into the old butterfly pajamas you wore most nights and turned on the tv mounted against the wall. 

You turned on Netflix but hardly paid attention to the carelessly chosen movie. You sat against the headboard and down the bitter beer until the can was hollow and your eyelids were heavy. You slumped down so that your shoulders were at your ears and dozed off in the stiff position as the room moved with the colours of the television. 

The anger and alcohol shaded your shallow sleep and you hardly heard Wesley when he came in, only waking when your bladder was ready to burst and his snores rumbled in your head. You went to the bathroom and returned, wide awake, and stared at the shape of him in the dark.

You remembered when he used to kiss you when he came home, even when you were asleep, he’d wake you with the little pecks. You remembered when he was happy to come home. You remembered when you were happy. 

You swallowed the acrid aftertaste of beer and left him to snore. You went downstairs and curled up on the couch but didn’t sleep. You just stared at the shadows of the furniture until the sun rose.

💍

The next day, Wesley didn’t wake until after noon and when he did, he didn’t say a word to you. He took his coffee and sat at the patio table in the back as you stewed and cleaned the kitchen. You had nothing to say to him even if you felt stupid for being mad.

“Gotta head down to the dealership,” he said as he interrupted your scouring of the stove.

“The dealership?” you said after a moment, deciding whether or not to break your vow of silence.

“I told you on Wednesday, I’m picking up the car--”

“We talked about this. We should wait a little longer--”

“It’s my money and I got a great price,” he sighed, “just because you have to pinch your pennies--”

“We’re married,” you squeezed the foam sponge, “it’s our money. Don’t act like I don’t pay for anything around here.”

“Oh thanks, honey, so wonderful you paid for a five dollar steak,” he scoffed, “I’ll be impressed when you can make a mortgage payment on your own.”

“How dare you!” you turned your back to him and kept scrubbing, “fine, but not a penny of my money is going to that thing.”

“That’s fine, I’m selling the old one, that should cover most of it--”

“What?” you slammed your hand between the burner, “you said we would hold onto it so I had something to--”

“Then you can buy it from me,” he said venomously.

“I’m your wife,” you spun to scowl at him again, “I-- what is wrong with you?”

He tilted his head and squinted as he poked his tongue out along his lip. “Nothing wrong with me,” he shrugged, “what’s wrong with you?”

“Don’t--” you warned as you pointed a finger at him through the bright yellow gloves, “don’t do that… I’ve been trying and you just keep pushing me away.”

“Me pushing you away?” he rolled his eyes, “you were passed out last night when I got home. Maybe if you didn’t fall asleep before nine I could actually fuck you… or at least get it up if you worked on losing some of that cellulite on your ass.”

Your lip quivered and you sucked in a breath. You shook your head and turned around again. You ignored him as your hand shook and you continued your work, scratching at the dried-on food around the burner. His empty mug clinked onto the counter and you listened to his exit.

Fuck him and his new car. You were done trying with him.

💍

Wesley’s new car was shrouded in the shade of the garage as the old black Hyundai sat out on the driveway with a red and white “For Sale” sign on the windshield. Right after he got back from his extravagant purchase, he made the listing online and several perusers stopped by Saturday night but Sunday morning saw the car still there.

You sat by the border of stones around the garden as he drank beer in the garage and approached any interested buyers who appeared; although so far he’d only had two before noon.

You tucked your clippers into your apron pocket and dusted off your gloves as you stood. You were a little dizzy from sitting out in the sun and a glass of water was the perfect excuse to drown out the annoying sound of your husband’s voice.

You ignored Wesley as you trod through the garage and kicked your sneakers off on the mat right before the three steps up to the house. You went to the kitchen and put your gloves on the counter as you filled a glass from the dispenser on the front of the fridge. You’d given up everything but water and the slices of lemon were the only flavour you had.

You took the glass and your gloves and headed back. Wesley waited just at the bottom of the stairs as he glared up at you with arms crossed. You sighed and descended but he didn’t let you pass.

“What is your problem?”

“Are you really asking me that?” you hissed.

“You giving me the silent treatment isn’t gonna fix this,” he snarled.

“You know what you said so… I shouldn’t have to tell you to apologize,” you retorted and he stayed put.

“Is this about the car?”

“The car is just another thing,” you cross an arm around your stomach, “you think I couldn’t use it to get around, to get the groceries maybe? Or, I don’t know, maybe since you have such a problem with my home office, I could go out and get a ‘big girl’ job as you put it so many times--”

“Your mother has a car she never drives. You can just take her with you, two birds, one stone. I need to sell this to pay for the new one--”

“The one I begged you not to buy,” you huffed, “you could’ve waited a few more years until we were a little more comfortable--”

“Oh, wait? Until we have a kid and all my money goes to it,” he snapped, “yeah, I’m sure we’d have the money then--”

“You’d have to fuck to do that,” you stepped down the last step and pushed past him.

As you came into the sunlight and shielded your eyes, a figure stood by the garden, knelt just by your tulips as he felt the soft petals. You narrowed your eyes. You recognized him for sure. It was the stranger from the bus.

“Um, hi?” you croaked as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Hey, it’s… you again,” he chuckled softly as he stood, “I saw an ad for a car and… well, I’m getting tired of the bus.”

“Oh, uh, my husband,” you pointed over your shoulder, “you’ll have to talk to him.”

“Okay,” he smiled, “Peter,” he held out his hand and you stared at it. You introduced yourself and shook his firm grip.

“Like I said, it’s my husband selling the car,” you brushed by him and got to your knees by the flowerbed. “Unless you’re looking to buy some wilting pansies.”

“Hmm, I like the tulips better,” he said as he slowly inched away, “thanks.”

You sat back on your heels and he strode over to the open garage. You heard Wesley greet him and didn’t bother paying attention to the same pitch you’d heard all morning. You pulled on your gloves and wiggled your nose as it tingled. You really just wanted to keel over and bawl.

“Sold,” Wesley announced and you heard a clap, “all yours!”

“I’ll just transfer the deposit,” Peter said and a minute passed before he emerged again, the keys hanging from his finger, “Thanks, Wes.”

You hid your distaste. It used to be that Wesley hated being called ‘Wes’ but lately, he introduced himself to everyone as just ‘Wes’. He really had changed. You must have too.

“Hey,” you looked up and blinked as the sun made your eyes water as it shone around Peter.

“You bought it?” you asked as you yanked free a weed.

“Yep, but uh,” he glanced over his shoulder as the old car stereo Wesley used blared out a classic rock tune, “I… wasn’t eavesdropping but I heard some of it and… if you ever need a ride to the grocery store, I usually try for Wednesdays,” he tucked his hand in his pocket, “I don’t live too far and since we go to the same one--”

“No, no, you don’t have to do that,” you looked back to the soil, embarrassed.

“Well, if you change your mind,” he kept the keys dangling from one finger and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and slid out a card with some effort, “I’m supposed to have these handy but I never really use them.”

He offered the business card and you read his name above the title, ‘senior photographer’. You gave a half-hearted smile and put it in your apron pocket.

“Thanks,” you said, “I can manage.”

“You don’t have to though,” he said kindly, “but I’ll, uh, leave you to your gardening. Sorry if I bugged you.”

“You didn’t,” you assured without looking up, flattered that anyone cared enough to even offer help.

“Hey, Pete,” Wesley stopped Peter as he neared the car, “you can have one before you go.”

“Oh, no, I’m gonna be driving,” Peter argued.

“Pfft, it’s a celebration and one won’t put you over the limit,” Wesley insisted and handed him a dark bottle of craft brew, “come on.”

“I really should go--”

“It’s a Sunday, where do you need to be?” Wesley patted his shoulder and looked over at you, “hey, honey, you wanna see if we have any snacks for our guest?”

“I’m not hungry,” Peter said curtly, “really. Just the beer is fine.”

They disappeared back into the garage and you cringed. You hated that. Wesley only every acted like a husband when others were around.

💍

You waited a whole week before returning to the grocery store. You were short on everything and it was a reason to get out of the house. Your husband had made both your home and your workplace hostile.

It irked you that Wesley resented you working from home when a couple years ago he was so happy about it. Then, he’d been so enthusiastic about starting a family but when it didn’t happen right away, he grew disillusioned and bitter. Now, he seemed to have no interest in being a husband let alone a father.

As you packed up your spinach and bottles of Perrier, your cart rolled just a little as someone nudged it from the other end. You raised your head and hid your surprise and discomfort as Peter smiled back at you.

“I thought you said Wednesdays,” you murmured as you dropped a bag in your cart.

“I forgot eggs,” he held up the carton, “I guess I have good timing.”

“You do?” you asked as you pulled your cart forward and maneuvered around to push it out of the way of fellow shoppers. You bent to grab your trolley from beneath and he caught it as you unfolded it.

“I’ll drive you,” he said.

“I told you--”

“I’m here so why not? Save the ticket for next time,” he urged.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why does it matter? Why do I matter to you?” you asked.

“I don’t know, I… like helping people,” he shrugged, “what if I told you you were helping me? I have this horrible need to be the hero.”

“That will go away,” you muttered under your breath and he lifted a brow, “sorry, I… thank you.”

“Alright, let’s go then,” he collapsed the trolley and carried it easily under his arm as he cradled his eggs in the other, “I got the A/C fixed on the car too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed and walked with him out of the store. 

You crossed the parking lot and helped you load up the bags in the trunk. That car should have been yours; you’d made enough payments on it yourself but Wesley was such a stubborn ass.

You sat in the front seat as he slid into the other and started the car. He drove cautiously through the lot and you read the store signs as he came to the exit.

“How long have you and… the old man been together?”

“Um,” you glanced over at him and chewed your lip, “since college so… almost fifteen years now.”

“Fifteen?” he turned out onto the street, “really? I thought he was older than you.”

“Christ,” you scoffed, “don’t flatter me.”

“Really, I woulda said twenty-eight at most,” he said coolly, “wow, I feel so young now.”

“And I feel so old,” you grumbled as you crossed your legs, hoping he didn’t notice the wrinkle in the pink capris.

“Whatever, you’re not even forty,” he said, “and time has treated you well so I can only think in a few years… oh jeez, sorry, that came off weirder than I intended. Not that I meant for it to be weird at all--”

You giggled at his rambling as he rolled to a stop at the sign and peeked over at you in the rearview. You caught his eye and quickly looked away, “what?”

“Just… you have a nice smile,” he said as he turned down a side street, “and a nice laugh.”

“Thank you,” your voice was brittle at the genuine compliment, “you’re funny.”

“Am I? I wasn’t trying to be,” he took the same short cut you took when you walked home from the convenience store which was closer than the plaza.

“And nice,” you said as he came onto your street, “you really didn’t have to drive me. You could’ve dropped me at the corner--”

“No way, I was raised better than that, and if you think I’m letting you carry that all in by yourself--”

“Raised to help little old ladies?” you mused.

“Raised to treat ladies properly,” he corrected, “especially pretty ones.”

“I’m married,” your heart pattered as you dared to flirt back, almost in disbelief that he was humouring you, “and your lies don’t work on me, young man.”

“Not that young,” he insisted as he pulled into the driveway.

You got out and went around to the trunk. He handed you the bag with the bread and other light products, and loaded up with the other bags.

“You get the doors, let me do the heavy work,” he said and nodded you towards the house.

You went ahead of him and unlocked the door. You let him inside and pointed him into the kitchen. He placed the bags on the counter and stretched his arms and hands as you set yours on the other side. The muscles of his arms moved under his skin and you could trace the lines of his torso through his grey tee.

“So,” he took out the bottle of Perrier, “this going in the fridge?”

“What-- you’ve done enough.”

“Fridge?” he ignored you and pulled out the other.

You gave a long blink and threw up your hands in surrender, “yes, please,” you came around and reached in to grab the whole grain buns, “bottom shelf.”

You finished unpacking your groceries and took the empty bags from Peter and shoved them under the counter. You stood and looked at him nervously as he watched you, his fingers tapping on the granite.

“Do you want a snack? Something to drink? Water?”

“I’ll have a water,” he said and moved to leaned his elbow on the countertop, his side snug to the edge.

“Sparkling or--”

“Regular’s fine,” he answered

“Ice? Lemon?” you pulled out a tall glass.

“Just ice is fine… then I’ll be out of your hair,” he said.

Ice clinked into the glass and you covered it with the distilled water from the fridge. You slid it onto the counter and stepped back.

“Oh, I… actually, it’s a good thing I ran into you,” he said and took a sip, “my aunt, she likes to garden too but she got some bulbs she’s not gonna use, I thought maybe… maybe you would like some to fill in the holes?”

“What kind?” you asked.

“Some daffodils and some crocuses, I think,” he said, “I could bring them over next week after work?”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” you scrunched your lips, “you could probably just give them to a neighbour.”

“It’s not out of the way,” he said, “you want them?”

You stared at him and thought. He was nice. Too nice.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing, I… I’m sure you have a girlfriend you could be spending time with--”

“I don’t. Not anymore,” he interrupted.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, “I didn’t--”

“Like I said, I always wanna be the good guy,” he finished his water and the last of the cubes settled at the bottom, “thanks.”

“No, thank you,” you said as he set his glass in the sink and backed away, “really, you made my day so much easier.”

“I hope your weekend is better,” he said, “but…”

He didn’t finished and you folded your hands together as he hesitated by the hallway.

“But what?” you prodded.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, “nothing. I should go.”

“Okay,” you rubbed the back of your neck, “see ya.”

“Monday,” he confirmed as he turned to the doorframe, “I’ll bring the bulbs. Just after seven.”

“Right,” you slanted your lips and watched him go.

The door marked his departure and you turned to exhale and lean against the counter. You could still smell his rich cologne. Then you felt guilty. It was stupid to think he was doing anything more than being nice, that the flirting was anything but a joke, but still, you missed feeling that way and it should’ve been Wesley making you feel that.

💍

You squeezed the phone as you clenched your jaw so tight it hurt. Your eyes were wet and finally the tears were ready to start falling. The smell of steak filled the kitchen, another meal you wouldn’t eat. At the last minute, Wesley texted to tell you he was hitting the gym. Again. He was already late after a long meeting but promised he’d be home to eat.

So you waited for him to answer your furious phone call but got his voicemail instead. Your eyes narrowed at the bottle of wine and your chest knotted as the tone sounded.

“Wesley, this is it. I can’t do this anymore! I’m your wife. Do you even want to be with me? I can’t go on like this and now you won’t even answer my calls,” you snarled. You knew he had his phone on him as he no doubt had his Spotify work-out list on shuffle, “when you come home, you can sleep on the couch.”

You hung up and grabbed a stemmed glass from the cupboard. You filled it to the brim with Pinot Grigio but before you could taste it, the doorbell made you jump. You set down the glass and walked up the hallway. Just on the other side of the frosted glass was a silhouette. You opened the door and touched your forehead as you faced Peter.

“I totally forgot you were coming,” you breathed, “I’m so sorry. But thank you, you really didn’t have to--”

“Are you okay?” he asked as the paper bag in his hand crinkled.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I… thank you for the flowers,” you looked at the brown paper bag and he handed it over, another bag on his wrist; white with ribbon handles, “what’s that? You headed out for a date?”

“Um, no,” he said, “actually, I was just…” he pushed his fingers through his hairs, the reddish brown locks slightly curled with sweat, “I wanted to talk to you.” He looked past you and his warm eyes returned to yours, “Wesley isn’t home yet?”

“No, he won’t be for a while,” you backed up, “so you might as well come in. I have a steak no one’s gonna eat.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t be,” Peter said glumly, “and steak sounds good.”

He closed the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen. You put the bulbs at the back of the counter and grabbed the bottle, “wine?”

“No thank you,” he said.

You plunked down the bottle and took a gulp of your wine before you turned to plate the steak and your chicken breast alongside the fried asparagus and roasted potatoes. You set the filet before him as he sat on the stool and climbed up across from him at the long island.

“Thank you,” he watched you slide a steak knife and fork towards him and his gaze lingered on your lips as you took another thirsty mouthful, “this is for you, actually.”

He pushed the white bag over to you and you smelled the subtle floral scent rising from it. You put your glass down and pushed open the top of the bag and peeked inside. You shook your head and rescinded your hand as if you were slapped. It was the same perfume from that day weeks ago.

“You… how?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked.

You thought back on the day you wanted to forget. He was the other shopper in the perfume section, the one who sent you that sympathetic look as Wesley reproached you. You winced and grabbed your utensils. You cut into the chicken and shoved it in your mouth. You swallowed loudly.

“Take it back,” you sniffed, “I don’t want it. I don’t deserve it.”

“You do. He doesn’t deserve you,” he carefully sliced into the medium rare steak.

“Is that what this is? Some perverted joke? A challenge?” you dropped your fork and knife, “you think you can seduce the sad housewife and then laugh at it? Sow your wild oats?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” he calmly put down the silverware, “I… what I didn’t say when I showed up is I just came from the gym.”

You frowned in confusion and wrinkled your nose. You took another drink of wine as you tried to understand.

“I saw Wesley,” he said as he leaned on his elbow and pulled out his phone with his other hand, “I didn’t wanna say anything but… you’re here beating yourself up over him and-- just look.”

He slid his phone across the counter and you looked at the screen. Your entire body felt heavy and your veins filled with ice. You dropped your head into your hands as you tried to wipe the sight from your eyes; the image of your husband groping a woman in yoga pants, an act she wasn’t deterring.

“I knew it,” you sobbed as the tears burst forth and leaked down your palms, “I knew it. And why wouldn’t he? I’m old, ugly--” you sniffed and pulled your hands away to wipe them on your pants. Peter held out a paper towel and you took it as you avoided his eyes, “thank you but I think you should go. I’m humiliated enough.”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” he said as he climbed down from the stool and rounded the island, “he’s an asshole. He’s blind.”

“Please, Peter, just leave me alone,” you slid off the stool and he caught your shoulders. You looked up at him as you dabbed away the streaks of sadness with the paper towel, “Peter--”

“I’m not leaving,” he said firmly, “he’s out there having his fun, so why don’t you have some of your own?”

“Peter, that’s-- that’s wrong. I’m too old for you. And… I’m fat and--”

“You’re perfect,” he reached up to frame your chin with his hand, “you’re gorgeous,” his other hand trailed down your arm and to your hip, “that’s the first thing I noticed about you…” he pulled you closer and tapped your ass lightly.

“No, I can’t-- I just want to be alone,” you pushed on his arms and felt the thick biceps as he flexed and kept you close.

“Well, baby, what I want,” he turned you so that you were pinned between him and the island, “is for you to put on that perfume… I want you wearing nothing but that.”

“Peter,” you pushed on his chest that time and the hard muscle wall didn’t budge, “Peter, go--”

“Baby,” he bent and scooped you up suddenly. 

His hands spread over your ass as he lifted you and crushed his lips against yours. You murmured in surprise and he placed you on the granite countertop. He parted from your lips as you sat up and he shoved your legs apart, inserting himself between your knees. He played with the bottom of the dress you’d worn in hopes of rekindling your dying marriage.

“We can go slow,” he tickled along your thighs and pulled back suddenly, “just a little at a time.” 

He leaned in as he reached around you and grabbed the small white bag. He pulled out the perfume and snaked his hand around your neck. He pulled you to bend over him and he kissed your neck just before he sprayed a puff of perfume across your throat. He stood back and took a deep breath. He put the bottle on the counter and his hands went back to your skirt.

“Peter,” you caught his hands as they crept under the fabric, “please.”

You tried to slide forward and he stopped you as he grasped your hips and held you in place. He bit his lip as his eyes glimmered up at you. He drew a hand away and took the glass of wine and held it before your mouth.

“Drink, relax,” he cooed, “forget about him.”

You stared at him and he brought your hand up with his and wrapped it around the full body of the glass. He nudged it to your lips and watched you until you drank from the crystal rim. He smirked and lifted your skirt as he bent to bury his head beneath the folds.

You gulped and choked on the wine as your skirt fluttered down over his shoulders. You felt his finger on the lace trim of your panties and winced. He squeezed your thighs with his other hand and nuzzled the crotch of your underwear. You tried to close your legs but he kept them apart easily.

He curled his fingers under the elastic of your panties and tugged. He pulled until you lifted your ass just enough for him to get them free and he guided them down your legs before quickly parting them again.

You set down the glass and almost overturned it, the last mouthful splashing up the side. You pressed your hands to the granite and peered down at the shape of his head beneath your skirt. You gasped as his cool tongue grazed your warm folds and delved deeper.

“Peter…” you wisped and closed your eyes as you tried to hide from your own shame.

He purred as his tongue flicked over your clit and you twitched. He caressed the crease of your thigh with his fingers as he lapped at your, his other hand pressed against your stomach until you fell back across the counter. You arched your back instinctively and his hand cupped your tit through your dress.

He blindly pulled until your chest slipped out and pushed the cup of your bra as he teased your clit with his tongue. He felt along your cunt with his fingers and shoved his index inside of you. You moaned as he pushed another inside and curled them as he suckled on your bud.

Your core burned to life. Your entire being was set alight after months without affection. You quivered in delight and fear. Your nerves stormed both out of guilt and hunger. It felt so good but you knew it was wrong. The scent of the perfume filled your nose as your skin grew hot.

He moved his hand in time with his mouth as he doted on you. His touch intensified as your legs bent around the side of the island and your fingernails dragged along the granite, your voice rising without thought. He pinched your nipple and you cried out as you came in a wave of sheer pleasure and grabbed his wrist as you tried to steady yourself.

He eased off slowly as you trembled in the afterglow, his lingering touch tickled along your legs as he pushed your dress up. He pulled you to sit up and lifted the fabric over your head and ripped your sleeves free from your arms. He tossed as side the garment and swiftly covered your mouth with his so you tasted your own arousal on his tongue.

He unhooked your bra blindly and slid it off your arms. You were intensely aware of your nakedness and as you brought your arms up to cover yourself, he forced them down and ran his hands over your bare torso. 

“Beautiful,” he said as he laid a trail of gentle pecks along your throat and chest, pausing to take a nipple in his mouth as he rolled the other between his fingers and sent a shiver through you.

He kneaded your sides and hips, his fingers danced along your thighs and he followed the path with his mouth, kissing and nipping your flesh. He lifted his head again as he took your hands and twined his fingers through yours. He tugged you gently until you slid off the counter and landed on your feet shakily.

“Baby, you’re so amazing,” he placed your hands on his chest and pushed them down his muscled torso and brought them back up beneath his tee shirt, “go on.”

He let you go and you continued to roll up his tee. He dipped his head and raised his arms to help you and you clung to the tee as it fell limp in your grasp. Dazed, he snatched the shirt from your hands and flung it. He once more pressed your hands to his chest and guided you in feeling the lines of his toned flesh.

He pushed your hands against the top of his jeans and leaned into you. He kissed your temple and whispered along your hairline, “turn around, baby.” He squeezed your ass and purred, “mmmm, please, I wanna see that ass.”

You blinked, dazed, and spun slowly. You caught yourself on the edge of the counter as your legs trembled and you heard the subtle zip. He kicked his foot between yours and pushed your legs apart as he led you back so that you were slightly bent against the island. He ran his nails down your back and gripped your hip with one hand as his other drew away from your skin.

You flinched as you felt his smooth tip against your ass and he rubbed it between your cheeks. You inhaled and held in your breath as his hold on your tightened and he angled his dick under your ass and grazed your cunt. He poked your entrance and pressed his chest to your back as his hand covered yours on the granite.

He slid into you and your voice fizzled in the air as he forced the air from your lungs. You pushed your head back and it met his shoulder as his other hand crawled down your front. He spread your folds with his fingers and swirled another around your clit as he tilted his hips and thrust into you slowly.

“Ah, Peter,” you slapped the counter and he shushed you as his hand left yours cold and his fingers stretched over your throat.

His motion picked up as the noise of him crashing into you echoed around the kitchen. Your eyes rolled back as he rammed into you even harder. You were on tiptoes as he was driven by the weak moans that leaked from your lips and your wet pleasure squelched around him. He pressed two fingers to your bud and rubbed until you squeaked and your thighs quaked around him.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, “I bet you never cum like that for him.”

You whined and he sped up again. He pinned you against the counter so that the lip pressed into your stomach. He took his hand from your cunt and pushed your head down as he kept his other hand around your neck. He didn’t waver once as he fucked you.

“Touch yourself, baby,” he commanded, “I want you to cum again for me. I know you want to too.”

His thick breath warmed the air and grazed your back as he held you down and his hold on your neck tightened until silver stars rose in your vision. Your feet dangled against the tile and you reached down to play with your clit as it buzzed. It was only seconds before you were murmuring in ecstasy once more.

“Fuck, baby, can you feel that? The way your clinging to me,” he puffed as he slammed into you over and over, “he can hardly fill you, can he? Hmmm? Little man.”

You wheezed as he choked you and his other hand kept your head pinned. You heard a distant creak but could barely do more than keep your fingers moving as your heartbeat deafened you. You came again and croaked as your cunt squeezed him hungrily.

“What the fuck?” the voice broke your lusty trance and suddenly you were pulled away from the counter.

Your head lulled as Peter held it up and turned you around, his pelvis slapping against your ass as you faced your husband. Your mouth hung open as your blurred vision barely registered the scene and the deep grunts only got louder behind you.

“Look who’s here,” Peter rasped as he snaked his arm around you.

“The fuck are you doing?” Wesley sneered as your eyes closed and your ass rang with each thrust.

“What you can’t,” Peter snickered, “doesn’t she look so happy?” He grasped your chin and pushed his fingers into your mouth as he held your head up, “well, you into watching or you gonna let us finish, old man?”

#peter parker #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #fic #peter parker x reader #dark fic #one shot #dark!fic #do us part #marvel #mcu #spider-man #avengers

[katwritessometimes]

In The Dark

Shadow Monster Aizawa x Reader

A collab piece for @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten Citrus Dome Server

Read the other entries HERE

Warnings: somnophilia, dub-con, non-con, tetraphilia eeee tentaicles kind of? Monster fucking, manipulation, tiny little sprinkling of yandere if you squint. 

5kish words

 @bobawithpomegranate ​ & @miscellaneous-bnha ​ thanks for keeping me from jumping off a bridge. This was surprisingly very challenging to write so i hope you guys enjoy.

The sight of your grandmother’s old home brought comfort into your heart in a way nothing else ever could. It had taken much longer than you would have liked to get here, after almost a year of fighting with the family. Legal battles over property and inheritance, you'd finally been handed the keys to the beautiful old Victorian home your grandmother had loved so much. The outside was weathered but held strong, you were sure the inside would be worse after being empty and neglected for so long. With a sigh, you picked up the cleaning supplies you'd brought with you and made your way inside the house. 

You don't notice it at first,

 He’d noticed you the second you walked onto the porch. 

Singing softly to yourself, you make your way through the old house, flipping lights on to make sure the electricity works. Opening up windows and doors to air the dusty old place out. Except once you set your mind to cleaning it becomes blatantly obvious. The house isn't dusty, the house is fairly clean, no dust having settled anywhere, no cobwebs hanging in abandoned corners. You think for a second maybe the lawyer hired someone to come clean before handing over the keys, but you don't recall her mentioning anything like that. 

With a shrug determined to do some light cleaning anyway, you spend the day unpacking some of the stuff you brought and lightly cleaning as you went. The first time you notice it it’s dark out, dim lights illuminating the house. Christ, why did grandma have such shitty lightbulbs in, you’d think an older woman would want brighter lights as her vision faded. The thought slips from you when you hear something crash onto the floor behind you. You turn quickly, something flinting in the corner of your eye as you turn, heart rate spiking, and you freeze. You were sure you saw something going up the stairs. 

Taking a breath in an attempt to calm your breathing, you pick up the painting that had somehow been knocked off its mount. A creaking coming from the second floor has your head snap in that direction. It’s an old house, you chant in your head trying to not let yourself get worked up. You don’t realize you're making your way up the stairs until the old wood creaks loudly under your weight. Your attention is drawn to your grandmother’s room, the only place you haven't been in just yet. You dig around your pocket for the master key that gave you access into the main bedroom, worried that maybe this is where all the dust and cobwebs had scampered off too. You chuckle to yourself at that and it settles your nerves a little, though you can't pinpoint why you're suddenly nervous. 

Much to your surprise, your grandmother’s old bedroom was just as clean as the rest of the house had been, even though no one should have been able to access it. You almost miss the small box sitting on her bed if not for something skittering in the corner of your eyes turning your attention to it. You do miss the shadow that slinks out behind you pausing at the doorway to watch you for a second. You reach out for the ornate box, a letter sitting on top of it with your name written neatly on the front. But before your fingers can make contact with it, the door behind you slams loudly. You jump at the sound, hands coming up to clutch at your chest, curses spilling from your lips as you turn to see the door is closed now. 

“Fucking old house” You yell aloud unable to control your volume after having been spooked. Your yelling makes you miss the deep chuckle that rings out in the air. 

Cute

You pout upset that you’d let yourself be so easily spooked like that. Running a hand through your hair you turn your attention back to the small box and letter picking up both items before heading out of the bedroom. You look back one last time, unsure if you felt ready to disturb your grandmother’s space just yet. Opting to leave it as it was, if only for a little while longer. 

You probably should have read the letter too, things would have made sense much quicker if you had. 

Two weeks of dusting and cleaning out old boxes before you decided it was time to begin moving your things into the house. It had been slightly odd, something for sure was off about the house but you tried not to think about it too much. Handling most of the weird mishaps in the house with a shrug and no real inclination to question it. The last thing that came with you into the new house was your two cats. A sleek black tom who loves you and only you, and a younger larger orange tom who’s all around very friendly. You hate to say you notice a shift in the house when the cats finally settle. Both the boys took to the house as if they’d always been there, something you were struggling with. It was their presence that made it so that you could no longer pretend like you didn’t see the shadows moving. 

Both cats who’d always preferred lazing in sun rays suddenly preferred the dark corners of the living room over the sunny rays leaking in through the large bay window in the house. Demanding meow’s typically indicative of wanting attention, were used in dark corners of the house. Directed at something you couldn’t see. You’d be able to ignore the behavior, except every time you went looking for them when they called. 

You’d find them happily purring, rubbing up against something that wasn't there in the darkness, as if already being given the attention they were asking for. It was creepy, weird, should have creeped you out. But you’d been raised to have a healthy fear and respect towards things you couldn't understand but were not outright malicious. So you tried not to let it bother you too much, don't question the way shadows seem to move. Or when the cats' purr and flop on their backs for tummy scratches in the dark corners of the house.

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

The dreams had begun the first night at the house, an all-encompassing warmth that lazily spreads throughout your whole body. Contrasted by cold hands caressing your skin, a deep rich voice whispering dirty things in your ear and working you up to a feverish pitch. 

“Pretty little mouse wandering into my house”  the voice coos in your ear.

And then you’re awake, panting heavily, a groan spilling past your lips as you toss and turn a little in your bed. 

“Fuck.” you whimper out, bringing your arm up over your face as you try and catch your breath. 

 You can’t remember exactly what you dreamt about, only the deep voice murmuring nothings in your ear and cold fingers playing with your folds. You let out an exasperated sigh squirming in bed frustration seeping into your bones. When was the last time you had a dream like that, you couldn't remember? When was the last time you’d been worked up like this, and from a dream no less? You let out a frustrated huff turning and burying your face in the pillow. You could have sworn you heard a deep chuckle ring out. 

They get more detailed, more vivid the longer you're at the house you're almost used to waking up panting and sweaty. The feeling of cool silky tendrils exploring your body lingering for a bit before slinking off as you become more alert. Groggily whining at being awake after dreaming such filthy things. The feeling of your wetness soaking through your panties frustrating you. Always waking up right before the best part of the dream, so you throw the blankets off of yourself in a huff. Spreading your legs wide you trail your fingers over the lingering sensation of someone else’s touch. 

It drives him wild.

Aizawa was on the edge of insanity when you showed up at the old house. A year of solitude will do that to you, he'd been beyond madness when the old lady bought the house all those years ago. Though she's brought him back with a soft kindness only a grandmother could offer.

You,

You brought a clarity to his mind in a different way. Every little curse, every time you scold the house when something disappears. Every time you touched yourself to thoughts of him, to the lingering feeling of his tendrils and hands on you. Aizawa was able to pull himself little by little out of the pit insanity and loneliness had pulled him into. You were so easy too, subconsciously letting the shadow creature infect every ounce of your being. He'd managed to seep into your dreams easily enough, a lonely pent up girl. He liked how you squirmed in your sleep. 

Desperate little whimpers spilling from your lips as his cool fingers explore your body. It was addicting, the way your warmth spread through him with every touch, every explorative lick of your body lighting a fire deep in Aizawa's belly. 

“Pretty little thing aren't you.” Aizawa coos in your ear, and you always react so beautifully to his voice. Your sleeping body responding with a soft whimper, he lets his tendrils explore every inch of you. Slipping underneath the silk PJ top and skimpy little shorts you always wore to bed. You were practically offering yourself up to him each and every night. How could he ever resist when your body reacted like this to his every touch. He’d started slowly at first, only manifesting his tendrils to creep along your body as you slept. 

Once you’d been there for a few months he didn’t even have to worry about you waking up. Having invaded your dreams enough to be able to keep you in a nice deep sleep while he had his way with you. Settling himself between your legs fully manifested, never happier to have this solid form as when he's trailing large callus palms up to your soft legs. It’s so easy, really he can’t help himself, your wetness quickly soaking through your panties as cold fingers rub at your clit. Heady little moans spilling from your sleeping frame and it makes him giddy, trailing a large hand up and under your shirt. Pressing against the soft skin of your stomach and trailing up to gently squeeze at your breasts. Aizawa loves the way your body reacts to him, whimpering and arching against his touch. He shifts then, leaning over your sleeping body, caging your head between his hands, leaning down to nuzzle his nose into your hair.

Can’t help himself as he trails open mouth kisses down your neck, tangling his fingers through your hair, you lean into his touch. A soft whimper of please slips through your lips and Aizawa can barely contain himself as his hips buck against your core. 

“Begging for me in your sleep, sweet girl, already knows who she belongs to. Don’t you.”  

You mewl, a soft pretty sound that Aizawa plays in his head over and over for days. Humping into your soaked panty-clad pussy desperately. His tendrils emerging from his back of their own accord, stroking and rubbing up against you as he mindlessly pleasures himself against your unconscious frame. Your little pants and moans edging him on until he's groaning against your neck, spilling himself onto your cute little silk PJ shorts. Aizawa lets himself bask in the feeling of your warmth against him littering your face in kisses. 

“My good girl.” 

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You conclude something is living in the house one night during an intense thunderstorm. Living in a house with some creature that may or may not try to eat you? Cool fine, no worries. But a thunderstorm? The loud unpredictable booms that tear through the air make you jump every single time without fail. 

You flinch, once again roused by a loud clap of thunder and a harsh flash of lightning. An involuntary whimper slipping past your lips as you curl up into a ball on the bed doing your best to block out the noise of the raging storm. 

You can feel it when a cool blanket envelopes you, a shift in the air that muffles all of the intense noise. The feeling of something carding its fingers through your hair comes next, ever so lightly scratching at your scalp. “It’s just a storm” A deep voice that seems to come from all around whispers and a strange comfort washes over you as your body begins to relax. You're half asleep, it's easy to lean into the gentle caress when you're not quite awake. Easy to ignore the feeling of tendrils creeping across your legs and stomach. You can't help but feel slightly comforted by them in your half-asleep state. 

 An exceptionally loud clap of thunder jolts you into a more awake state and you shoot up in bed. The hazy fog that was keeping you calm dispelling and you whimper as the comfort leaves you. “Please don't leave” you whisper aloud unsure to who or why you even spoke. A deep voice coos at you as thunderclaps outside again and you tremble. A yelp slips past your lips and your hands reach out towards the deep voice as if on instinct. Something safe that will soothe you if only you can reach out and touch it.

 A chuckle thick like honey floats into your ears and your hands meet something soft. You're groggy, half asleep, and confident you're just imagining things, but that doesn't take away from the comfort. It feels like a million different arms wrap around you, pulling you in towards something solid and the hazy fog returns your body relaxing as the tendrils tighten almost uncomfortably around you. Wrapping you up in a cocoon that feels safe and secure, the thunderstorm outside fading into the background and all you can concentrate on is the deep voice mumbling nothings in your ear. 

It's in the days after the storm when you can still hear his deep voice in your ears and feel his warm touch lingering on your body. That you remember the letter and box your grandmother had left you. You feel a little stupid for not thinking of reading them earlier, having been caught up in the whirlwind of moving you'd put them off to the side and almost forgotten entirely about them 

To my lovely granddaughter, 

If you’re reading this then it means you've agreed to the stipulations I included for ownership of the house. This place is special, and if you take care of the house its caretaker will return the favor. Be patient with him, it takes him a little while to warm up but he won't hurt you. I promise I haven't gone crazy with old age. Allow yourself to be open to the things in life we can’t explain. I hope the house is as good to you as it was to me in my old age. 

It doesn’t explain much, but coming from a family that believed in the supernatural made it so that your grandmother's cryptic words didn't freak you out as much as they should have. They made you feel better actually, soothed the part of you that was nervous you might be going crazy. The small box held a pendant, a small but brilliant ruby ordaining the center of it delicate but practical enough for daily wear. You can't help but slip it on and admire the pretty jewel. 

Aizawa is more active after that, the haze in his mind settles when he sees you wearing his necklace. You notice it too, the shadows in the house somehow softening, almost playful. He likes to move your things around so he can hear you huff in frustration. Every curse every time you yell at him, the fog in his mind clears.

He gets bolder around the house, slowly but surely, starts moving things around more obviously. Enjoys making you jump by slithering his tendrils across your ankles while you're cooking. Or shutting off the lights while you shower just to hear your cute little yelp. He likes that you’re somehow not scared of his presence but still easily spooked overall. 

“That foundation was $50 and if it's not back in my makeup bag when I come back I swear to god I'll keep all the lights on for a week.” You see the shadow swirl in the corner of the bathroom, and you know it's smiling at you. You roll your eyes but the next morning your foundation is sitting right on the bathroom sink. 

You begin to catch glimpses of it, of him. As if your attention is helping him manifest fully after a long time of being nothing but a wisp of smoke. Most obvious when your eyes scan the house and you can almost swear a man is petting one of your cats. Only to double back and see your cat rolling over against a dark corner of the room. You almost stop feeling uneasy, almost. 

It all comes to head on a night where sleep seems unreachable. You were frustrated, panting, skin warm, and sticky with sweat as your fingers skillfully circled your clit but no relief came. You let out a frustrated ‘fuck’ throwing your head back onto the pillow and tossing a hand over your face. You’d been pent up for a while now, the weird lewd dreams working you up but never getting you anywhere. You do your best to relax into the bed, accepting defeat with a groan and hoping sleep overtakes you quickly. 

The feeling of something wisping against your ankles brings you back from the edge of sleep. Cool ever so soft touches trail up your legs, you shiver at the cold sensation against your still warm and sweaty skin. Your eyes flutter open but you're only met with black, body tensing a little as cold tendrils stroke your face. 

“You’re ok little one.” The voice is deep against your ear, a cold forked tongue licking up the side of your cheek. “I’ve got you” The same soothing voice you’d heard during the thunderstorm. Except for this time, it's laced with something other than softness. “I’ve been watching you, little human. Spreading yourself open shamelessly, playing with that pretty pussy out in the open. Pretending like you didn’t know I was here to watch.” Aizawa coos.

You whimper at the words, mist curling around you as a dark chuckle fills the room. “Tease” he snarls in your ear and you can’t help yourself as your hips buck up at the sound. Something solid forms between your legs, the soft smooth thing wraps around your ankles assisting in spreading your legs out wide. The deep voice tsks against your ear, cold skin and stubble rubbing against your cheek “You could at least pretend like you're not enjoying this.” 

Your face flushes as he teases you, the sensation of his foreign appendages exploring your body exciting you in a way you can't quite place. They’re not hands that much you can tell, you can distinguish his hands by the callus texture as he strokes a thumb over one of your nipples. Tweaking at it gently until it perks against his fingers. 

“Aren’t you scared little mouse” you can feel his tongue lapping at your neck, sharp teeth pricking the skin there and you let out a whimper. Managing only to shake your head, arching your chest up into his touch as he plays with you. “Desperate little human, willing to take just about anything if it means being satisfied.” You choke out a protest but can’t help the soft moan that bubbles out of your mouth as Aizawa presses his thigh against your sex. He coos into your ear when you begin to hump him mindlessly. 

“Such simple little creatures humans. Driven by desire, and willing to fuck just about anything aren't you little one?” You shake your head in protest, but the excitement pooling in your belly betrays you. Aizawa chuckles and pulls away from you a little, tendrils pooling from him and eagerly joining the fray. The limbs have a mind of their own, each appendage going about playing with you in different ways. One replaces his hands, squeezing and pinching at your breasts. Another brings your hands up and holds them above you keeping you still with minimal effort. A few others explore your body and Aizawa watches, as one of his appendages eagerly begins tugging aside your cute little PJ bottoms. 

You whine out a “No” as the cold air hits your soaked entrance “That's not what your pretty little pussy is telling me.” Aizawa chuckles watching as the tendrils gather your juices up, gently circling your clit and parting your folds. “Look at you, soaked and ready for me aren't you.” His hand replaces the tendril and you feel cold fingers press into your heat. Your pussy clenches at the intrusion but you buck into him automatically. Already worked up from playing with yourself before, your body betrays you as your mind hazes and all you can think about is pleasure. 

“P-Please” You choke out tugging against the restraints that only tighten when you struggle. Aizawa cocks an eyebrow up at you as he leans down, nuzzling at your inner thigh. Tongue lapping at the juices running down between your supple ass. He hums when you beg a smile tugging at his lips, his fog finally taking hold of you. 

“What was that little mouse? Did you say something” He accentuates his words with another finger and you cry out as he finger fucks you. His tongue lazily licking at the edges of your pussy and then up to rub at your clit. You whine, hips bucking up and Aizawa sighs another tendril coming to wrap around your waist and pins you to the bed. 

“Be still, or I'll leave you here.” You freeze at that babbling for him not to leave you and settle your hips. The appendage keeps you still squeezing you just a little too tight. 

“That's a good girl.” Aizawa hums, turning his attention back to your core. “You look so pretty like this baby girl, spread out for me to do whatever I want. You just keep giving me those pretty little noises and I'll make you feel good, okay?” You moan in response and Aizawa clicks his tongue, the tendril circling your stomach squeezing until it hurts. “Let me hear you say it.” Aizawa snarls. 

You gasp as pain seeps into your pleasure “Yes, please I'll be good.” The pressure against your sides loosens and you're able to breathe again panting softly as the pain begins to fade. Aizawa doesn't say anything, pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them up for a taste. He hums satisfied and then he's moving your body. Positioning you onto your stomach, cold hands lifting your ass as he positions you just how he wants. His tendrils keep your arms together in front of you, stripping you of your PJs and keeping your legs spread just enough to give Aizawa the perfect view of your ass and dripping pussy. A smile, just a bit too wide spills over his lips as he settles himself between your legs. Aizawa is hard, painfully so but he takes his time sliding a hand over the curve of your asscheeks. Trailing down your back and up to the back of your neck, squeezing gently before trailing back again.

 With a hum, he lazily strokes your dripping folds, cooing as you press your ass back into him wiggling a little desperate for him to fill you. A harsh smack rings out as his palm connects with your ass “Patience little mouse.” He snarls leaning down to the opposite cheek and biting down just a little too hard. You cry out, tears pooling in your eyes and you bury your head into the pillow. Mind overcome by a lustful haze, you just want him to fuck you already. 

Your wish comes soon enough when you feel something thick prodding at your entrance. You gasp as the tip of Aizawa’s cock penetrates you, gasp turns into a desperate moan as he presses into you little by little. He lets out a deep guttural moan of his own as your warmth encircles him, greedily squeezing his cock. Your warmth is addicting and it doesn’t take too long for Aizawa to start bucking into you. He sets a brutal pace, the appendages holding your waist upkeep you still, nice and steady for him to fuck into while his hands explore your body. 

You curse desperate little moans and obscenities leaving your lips as he fucks into you. His cock stretches you to your limits, almost painful as the creature fucks into you desperately. There's a shift, and you feel his hands come up to your middle, pulling you up against his chest as he fucks you. You feel his face nuzzle against your cheek as one of his hands coming to rest against your belly as he fucks you. You hands are suddenly free and you reach up, feeling your fingers pass through a cool mist, before finding something solid. Soft wisps of something, that wrap around your fingers, rolling over them in waves as you entwine them into what you assume is his hair. 

“Such a good girl, you take me so well darling. Letting me fuck into your womb like this.” Aizawa presses his hand against your stomach pushing back on himself as he becomes desperate. 

“Wanna see” The words are a desperate whine and you don't even really register when you say them. Aizawa sputters a little pace wavering at your words. His fingers brush against the delicate necklace you wear his necklace, and for a second his mind clears. But you whimper a desperate sound that breaks whatever sliver clarity he'd found and a darkness takes over his features again. His fingers abandon the necklace and trail up to your neck fingers wrapping around it then squeezing.

“What was that you little slut.” He snarls in your ear and you can't help yourself as you cry out 

“Please, wanna see you, wanna watch your cock fuck into me.” Your face flushes as you admit this out loud. A growl coming from the man, thing currently fucking your brains out and you can't do anything but tug at his hair and lean into him further as he uses you. Aizawa stills a little, and you whine desperately doing your best to bounce on his cock as he stops moving. Suddenly you can see again and he's fucking into you, go to say something but you see it, a black wispy tentacle like thing appears in front of your face. Aizawa’s hand that was wrapped snugly around your neck comes up to squeeze your cheeks and the appendage gives you a cheeky little wave before filling your mouth. 

“Wanna watch yourself get stuffed, fine, we'll use all of your cute little holes. How does that sound little one.” You whine around the tentacle and then he’s picking up his pace. Hand squeezing your throat so he can feel it at his tendril fucks into your neck, you take him so well. This is it the broken part of his brain hisses she's the one. Aizawa shakes his head, the feeling of your fingers in his hair grounding him for a moment and presses your body back into the mattress. 

His movements turn erratic as he fucks into your overwhelmingly tight little pussy. Pretty little moans spilling from you as he fucks you and his tentacles play with your clit and throat. You take him so well, respond so beautifully to his touch, you weren't scared and accepted your place quickly. He brings his fingers up to the little nub between your legs, replacing his tendrils and pressing fast little circles against your already abused clit. It doesn't take long after that, your body presses into the mattress, a tentacle fucking your throat, and some creature’s cock kissing at your cervix the thought alone is too much. But you spill over when Aizawa’s teeth sink into your neck, your body spasming as your orgasm bubbles over. 

Aizawa grunts from above you, your body going limp as he bites into you fucking you through your orgasm and chasing his own using your spent body for his own pleasure. He spills in you soon after, his mind just a little bit hazy. Ever so gently Aizawa pulls his tendril out of your mouth, drool, and his own slick trailing from your mouth as he does so. He coos as you whimper, pressing a hand over your ass to admire the way your pussy stretched to accommodate him. Humping into you a few more times before he pulls away completely. He debates for a moment letting himself disappear back into the shadows, but he hasn't been this real, this solid in so long. 

Your whimpering slices through his thoughts and before he can stop you, you're on your back looking up at him. Instinct makes him retract all of his extra limbs, making himself look half normal minus the wisps of hair that always seem to move on their own. You blink up at him for a moment body sore but satisfied and you bring your arms up to him. Aizawa is unsure, body flickering into shadows but you speak up before he can fully dissipate. 

“Stay with me” You manage to croak out, throat a little sore from the abuse you endured. You weren’t scared of him, if anything he was handsome and he'd fucked you till you were satisfied. You see the hint of hesitation in his eyes but you crinkle your nose and tilt your head cutely making grabby hands at him and he can’t help himself. 

Aizawa lays down and you curl into him on instinct, his body now warm against yours. Your fingers find their way up to his hair, giggling as the locks lace themselves with your fingers. He brushes some of your hair back and you whine as he touches at your neck. Small bits of blood pooling where he’d sunk his teeth into you. His split tongue peaks out automatically, licking it up and gently lapping at the tender spot on your neck as you whimper. 

“I get a little nuts when I'm on my own.” it's an apology, and you don’t think about why you feel safe in his arms, or why you don't question the creature laying with you, why you're not scared. Instead, you hum softly, nuzzling yourself into the crook of his neck as Aizawa lazily runs a steadily cooling hand down your back. 

“It's ok, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.” You hear yourself say and he hums into your hair acknowledging your words. A twisted smile creeping its way onto his lips as his grip tightens around you. The part of Shouta that’s fallen too deep into insanity to come back fully snickers at your words. 

As if you had a choice. 

​

Tags:

@bbygirlpastel @thewheezingwyvern

#my hero academia #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #shoto aizawa #aizawa smut #Shouta Aizawa x reader smut #monster fucking #Aizawa x reader smut #kat writes

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Six)

AN- Two chapters in one night... hope you like them! Soft Holmes Brothers scene at the end because, especially after the Eurus situation, the boys truly do love and care for each other! Not proof read either of these yet so apologies if there are mistakes!

Word Count- 4405

The younger brother's eyes had flicked over you both only momentarily, the tiniest flick up of his lips at the side of his mouth that disappeared so quickly it could have been misinterpreted for a twitch.

"Ever the delight, Sherlock." Mycroft spoke, standing straighter, his chin poking up a little higher. Sherlock glanced over his posture and rolled his eyes.

"Oh for God's sake don't start that Mycroft. Had I blamed you for everything I can assure you I wouldn't have bothered opening the door, don't make it so obvious that you care about my opinion of you- it's embarrassing for both of us." And with that he spun around and headed up the stairs to 221B, leaving the door to the flat wide open and disappearing into the bathroom.

"Well that was.."

"Easy? I told you that you shouldn't worry." You nudged Mycroft into the building before ascending the stairs.

"Sherlock Holmes, possibly the only man in the world to forgive somebody for nearly killing him in a heartbeat, but held a 6 month grudge when I took the last custard cream from the biscuit jar when I was 12.." Mycroft muttered, making his way into the flat and sitting beside you on the two seater sofa. John walked into the room from the kitchen shortly after, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand as he said his hellos.

"Figured I'd stick the kettle on when you said you were on your way.. Greg shouldn't be long now." He gave a smile, taking his place in his own armchair. "How have.." He glanced at Mycroft. "How have you been? He won't admit it, but Sherlock's been worried about you." Mycroft took a breath, sending a polite smile in the direction of the army doctor.

"Doctor Watson, I can assure you that I am fine and have been perfectly well looked after." His eyes flickered to you for a moment and then back to the doctor. "I presume the pair of you have held up well as I haven't heard any reports of gunfire towards the wall for a fair bit of time." John grinned, casting his eyes over to the smiley face on the wall that had thankfully been left alone.

"Good. Yeah, uh, things here have been.. good.. too." A blank stare matched with a more thoughtful raise of lips. ".. Very good, actually.."

"Catch." Sherlock came stalking into the room, a damp flannel thrown in Mycroft's general direction which he caught expertly, not allowing a single moist patch to appear on his clothing.

"And this is.."

"A flannel? Christ Mycroft has trauma affected your brain cells that much?" Sherlock quipped, flopping down into his armchair and lazily holding his hand out for his tea that was a mere few inches away from his fingers. John placed the mug in his hand without thought or argument, his fingers brushing over Sherlock's slightly before moving away. A biscuit soon followed, John holding out the digestive while Sherlock partly opened his lips, and shoving the food between them. It was your turn to raise your brow now, but you didn't say anything, instead just nudging Mycroft with your knee to make sure he had seen it too. Of course he had. "It's for your face, Y/N's lip balm is all round your mouth and it's making me feel a bit sick." John's eyes widened as he looked between the pair of you. You shrugged your shoulders and smiled, Mycroft simply sweeping away the slightly pink balm from underneath his lip and folding the wet cloth back up to place on the side. At least he hadn't picked up that you did it on purpose. Before anybody else could speak, the sound of someone bounding up the stairs filled the flat.

"Sorry I'm late, Ms Hudson let me in an- what did I miss?" Greg stood breathless at the door, satchel slung over his shoulder and a carrier bag in his other hand, staring at the apparent awkward glances shared between half the room. You stood from the sofa and headed over towards him, swiftly wrapping your arms around him and placing a small kiss on his cheek to say hello. He made his way into the room and perched on the arm of the sofa closest to Mycroft, casting another look at everybody when his question still hadn't been answered.

"Nothing of importance. Mycroft and Y/N have obviously decided to stop moping around each other like lovesick teenagers and finally admitted they've been infatuated with each other for years.. Now you're all caught up, can we get these papers sorted out so I can be more productive with my time?" Sherlock huffed.

"Nothing of importance? Don't be an arse Sherlock, that's excellent news." Greg clapped Mycroft on his shoulder and shot you a toothy grin. "Declaration in the park was it? Might be a good enough reason for me to not punch you for closing off St James'.." John's eyes widened more, if it were possible.

"You just.. closed off St James'? Can you even do-" The look Mycroft shot John made him cut his sentence short. "Right, yeah. British Government." He nodded, standing to go fetch Greg a coffee (yourself and Mycroft still held a shared judgement against Greg and his hatred for tea) and continuing to ask questions about your newly confirmed relationship. Mycroft sat awkwardly through the encounter- briefly talking about his emotions in front of you was one thing, a whole flat full of people was entirely different- so you gave his knee a quick squeeze and answered for him. "Who bit the bullet then?" John sat down. "Christ I know I mistook the pair of you being together when I met you, so surely these two have been waiting longer for you to get on with it." Greg grinned, nodding in agreement at John's assumption. Sherlock, on the other hand, stay lying on his chair completely unphased by the conversation going on around him.

"To cut a long story short, we were watching telly, I said Stephen Fry was a bit sexy, Mycroft informed me that he used to get told he had a slight resemblance to him, I realised I'd stuck my foot in it and had a ramble.. Went from there. Nothing too exciting, sorry." You left out the parts where the night before you had handled a broken Mycroft to the shower, how he had gripped onto you, how you held him as you slept. You also left out the way he had allowed himself to cry, how you held him while he wept- and, for that, Mycroft was incredibly thankful. Sherlock probably knew though, somehow, in his Sherlock way of knowing things- but he was either too kind to announce it to the room, or didn't care enough to waste his breath.. probably the latter.

"That's disappointing. You've mentioned about fancying Stephen Fry for years, this could have happened ages ago." John teased.

"Nothing compared to Hugh Laurie though. I'm pretty certain that I'm straight but I'd let him-"

"The papers!!" Sherlock's shout cut Greg's ramble off, making the silver haired man jump and grab his satchel, handing out the reports in a way that reminded you of a teacher with test papers.

"Right, yeah. Sorry. Basically the proper forms aren't ready for another week or so so these are just a few basic questions- nothing too in depth yet since I wanted to give you guys time to... yeah just basic for now." Mycroft chose to read through all the questions before answering them, whereas Sherlock  hastily scribbled his response to each question as he went along- the smaller details in the Holmes brothers' differences are always interesting to stumble upon. As he held the page in his hands, you carefully leant over to have a glance at the questions, your hand resting lightly on his shoulder and your cheek resting just against your fingers- blissfully unaware at the 2 sets of eyes openly staring at your movements, and the one set that watched from the side. Greg was right, in a way, the questions definitely weren't as overbearing as they could be- but that doesn't mean it was an easy task. The questions targeted Mycroft a lot more than it did John and Sherlock, asking things about scenarios and situations that had occured before they were taken, how long it had been since they had any contact with Eurus prior to that evening/ what they discussed, and a few basic questions about any incentives Eurus may have had, and anything that aided her into her plan. Of course the papers weren't labelled with the sister's name, they were generically printed and typically handed out to anybody involved in any kind of criminal behaviours, but that didn't make it seem any less like these were questions that targeted Mycroft in particular. Mycroft took a deep breath and laid the papers back onto the coffee table in front of him, pulling a pen out of his pocket and beginning to write. In this moment you had noticed the small bounce of his left leg, a movement only ever shown by him in times where he had a particularly stressful day at work, or a troubling encounter with his brother- it was a movement that let you know his brain was running a mile a minute and he felt a little more overwhelmed that usual. Without making a point of it, you move your right hand to rest on his mid thigh, allowing your thumb to rub small shapes into his leg to show your support.

Turning your gaze to the rest of the room, you noticed Greg's eyes on you, a grin on his face that practically stretched to his ears. You rolled your eyes at him, using your other hand to flip him off and smiled.

It had taken just under two hours in total for the boys to finish completely (well, an hour and twenty minutes for the Holmes siblings, an extra forty minutes for John whose brain simply didn't work as fast as theirs to convey the information on the paper). The time had passed fairly quickly, with yourself and Greg not wanting to disturb the silence and instead just drinking your hot drinks and stealing a couple of biscuits from the tray. You gave Mycroft's leg one last squeeze before sitting back against the sofa, stretching a little after finally getting out of that position.

"Thanks again for getting this done today." Greg spoke, taking the papers in and putting them in a plastic folder. "I'd better be off anyway, get these filed in." He stood, heading for the front door and tripping over the carrier bag he had brought in with him earlier. "Shit, yeah I almost forgot." He picked up the bag and handed it to you. "Got your coat, and I may have accidentally read your mind if you had been talking about Stephen and Hugh.." You dug through the bag and grinned as you pulled out the box at the bottom.

"You, Gregory Lestrade, are a bloody legend. God I could kiss you!" Your boxset of 'A Bit of Fry and Laurie' rested in your hands and you showed it to Mycroft, beaming at him. His lips raised at your reaction, showing a small glint in his eye, as you explained how now the pair of you would have to binge watch it since Mycroft had never got round to watching them before. Greg barked out a laugh.

"I wouldn't. I don't fancy being hunted by Mycroft's secret services." Mycroft let out a small laugh himself. And with that, Greg was gone and left the flat to the four of you once more.

***

You hadn't stayed at the flat long before you all made your way to Angelo's restaurant, even managing to convince Mycroft to just take a cab rather than bothering his chauffeur for a 5 minute journey.

"Ahhh Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson!" Angelo greeted, pulling the aforementioned men into an awkward half embrace, half headlock. "Back again so soon? I shall get your usual table set up, grab some candles. Anything for you!" The pair of men awkwardly shifted out of the hold and Sherlock offered a smile.

"Not today Angelo, we need a table for four if that suits your capacities here?" Sherlock peered round at the tables inside.

"Of course, a double date, very lovely to see! Come, come!" He led the four of you inside, you grinning at Mycroft at Angelo's casual mentionings of Sherlock and John's usual 'romantic' set up. You were all ushered inside of a small booth and handed menus, the benches were small but tolerable, your thigh just brushing against Mycroft's, him offering a shy smile at the close contact. "You stay here, I'll get to work on those candles. Just for you, Mr Holmes." Angelo spoke again, clapping Sherlock on his shoulder and disappearing into the back of the restaurant.

"He's.. uh.. a bit enthusiastic sometimes." John spoke, his cheeks burning a little at the memories of previous encounters here.

"Quite. Seems a pleasurable fellow." Came Mycroft's response, glancing over the menu. It had taken no time at all for the restaurant owner to appear back with a handful of small tealight candles in glass jars, and a single flower resting in a vase to lay on the table, taking everybody's orders and leaving once again. Then as the food turned up, Sherlock began to prod at the chips on his plate with his knife.

"What are you doing? Eat your bloody food, Sherlock." John quipped, elbowing the man to his side.

"Don't want it.. whoever decided that dessert was only customary after a meal? I'd much rather wait." John gave Sherlock a look and he spoke again. "Don't give me that look, this was your idea. Who even suggests 'late lunch' as a valid meal time? It's impractical. I didn't eat breakfast because we didn't get out of bed until well past the respected breakfast hour.." 'We'.. you didn't press. "So I had a sandwich at lunch which has ruined my appetite for this. Then I'll be hungry again later, but later than dinner time because of how late this lunch is." Sherlock childishly squashed his chip with his thumb. "It's just ridiculous.. they keep adding new names for new meals at new hours, I feel like we're becoming Bobbits."

"Hobbits, brother mine." Mycroft corrected, the faintest smile playing at the side of his mouth as Sherlock's words sounded alarmingly like the ones he had told you only this morning- it was nice when they just got along.

"That's what I said."

"No, you said Bobbits."

"Boys!" John warned, and you broke out into a small fit of giggles.

"We really can't take you anywhere, can we?" You chimed in. Sherlock just huffed, stabbing a chip and eating it as John gave him a stern look. It was quite sweet, actually, watching them be all domestic. By the time you'd finished your meals, yours and John's plates were clear, Sherlock's leaving only a few chips and a mouthful of burger as he found, after starting to eat the food, that he really enjoyed it and wanted more. Mycroft, on the other hand, had managed to leave little over half of his spaghetti bolognese, making comments about the pasta being far too rubbery, or the sauce being too thin, crossing the cutlery over in the centre and making a dismissive comment about making something to eat when he got home- you all knew he wouldn't.

Sherlock had practically jumped for joy when Angelo came out with a tray of chocolate fudge cake, offering slices around the table which you all, bar Mycroft, accepted happily.

"I shan't spoil my appetite for when I get home." Was his small excuse, raising a hand to prevent Angelo from spouting his claims that he had the best cake in London and that he must have a piece, and instead asking for a coffee. Without words being spoken, John cast his eyes over to you and you offered a small sad smile. Nobody had told John of Mycroft's past, but he was a doctor and always knew when signs were displayed. You had taken an extra fork from Angelo just in case and took a small bite with your own fork, unable to let out the (embarrassingly erotic) moan that had escaped you.

"Christ he wasn't lying, this is incredible." You praised, taking another small piece on the second fork. "Mycroft please give it a try." You offered your hand out towards him, the sliver of cake resting on the tip of the fork's prongs. He looked over at it, his mind telling him to give it a go, at the very least because it had been offered by you, but the image of himself in the mirror this morning came back to mind. He declined the offer and you sighed. Mycroft truly did love cake, and any sweet things, so it was heartbreaking for you to see him turning it away because of the thoughts that ran through his brain. Sherlock had already cleared his plate by this point and stood up abruptly, hoisting his coat back over his shoulders.

"I'm going to go out for a cigarette, care to join me Mycroft?" He had asked, walking past the table. Mycroft creased his eyebrows into a frown.

"Sherlock, the pact? I haven't smoked for three years."

"Neither have I, let's go." Sherlock spoke back quickly, hoisting his brother from the booth and taking the pair of them outside. You raised a brow at John who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I stopped questioning the pair of them and their motives a long time ago." He reasoned, the pair of you turning your heads to see the two Holmes boys outside resting against the restaurant's window.

"I try my best to.. they just still fascinate me." You spoke back, your eyes lingering on Mycroft a little longer before turning back to the table.

"So.. you and Mycroft. Going well?" John asked, his mouth raising in that side smile he often displayed when he was teasing somebody. "I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen Mycroft Holmes smile in a non-threatening way, and over half of those were from since you walked into the flat earlier. I think I can only just about count on two hands times where he's pulled an expression that isn't stoic and emotionless."

"Yeah.. I didn't expect it to happen, if I'm completely honest with you. We've spent so many years just avoiding the subject, but after.. Eurus.. I don't know. It flicked something in Myc that made him regret not doing something about it sooner." John nodded, understanding where you were coming from. "You also don't give him enough credit. Everybody just assumes he's this 'iceman' persona, but it's all a front.. I've watched him laugh so hard that tears fall from his eyes, he's one of those people who throws their heads back and lets out an absolute belter of an infectious laugh. I've seen him get angry at the telly if I came over and some stupid reality show came on the telly.. He shouted at Kim Kardashian once on there for some reason or another. I've stayed up all night with him after he had gruelling days at work, him offering to do the same for me if I had a bad case and couldn't sleep. And then, very recently, I watched him cry." You continued on. "Mycroft Holmes is one of the most emotional, caring people I've ever known, he is just incredibly particular at who gets to see it. You're a doctor, John. You know how experiences in life can shape one's emotional stability, how it alters their mental health. Had you grown up without very many people being kind to you, you'd be scared to let somebody else in too." You finished.

"Sorry.. I didn't mean it to come out in a bad way.. I just meant.. It's nice. Seeing Mycroft acting like that, it's.. nice." He apologised. You waved it off. You knew John didn't mean any harm.

"Mycroft and I are old news anyway.. What about you and Sherlock? When did that surface?" You asked, beaming at the deep red John's face had become as he choked on a sip of his drink. "Oh come on, don't act like that. We've all been waiting for this one to happen since you moved in."

"I.. I don't know what you-" Glaring at him, he stopped himself. "Yeah fine, okay. When we got back to the flat that night we went into the front room and Sherlock lost it. I'd never seen him anything like it before, he just.. he just sobbed into a heap on the floor." He explained, the nervous tapping of his fingers against his glass trying to distract him from his eyes watering. "I didn't know what else to do, so I scooped him up and put him in his bed. He begged me to stay with him and I did. Then he apologised to me, for dragging me in all of that mess, for almost getting me killed and he just wouldn't stop apologising.. So I stole the stereotypical movie move and kissed him. Just kind of went from there. I think that night made us realise that beating around the bush all these years wasn't helping either of us, and the thought that we could have lost the other only a few hours beforehand woke us up." He coughed, his voice breaking slightly.

"God look at us.. All the people in the world and we've landed with the Holmes'" You grabbed John's hand from across the table and laughed. "Makes you feel quite special though, doesn't it? That, equally, there were all the people in the world and they chose us?" John grinned, giving your hand a squeeze.

"Could never tell them that though, their egos would go through the bloody roof."

***

"They're talking about us." Sherlock mused, breathing in the London air.

"It seems people do little else." Mycroft returned, casting his glance to you smiling with John at the table.

"She really does like you. I've spent years deducing everything about her to make sure she wasn't a secret Russian spy sent with the motive to kill you." The younger spoke playfully. "You could have eaten the cake."

"Hmm?"

"The cake. I know you wanted it, but you're going back to how you used to be. Now that you're together, you're nervous." Sherlock's voice was nonchalant, simple observations, which didn't ease his older brother at all. "It's pointless. She's entirely infatuated. I thought the childish doe eyes disappeared after being attracted to somebody for a few weeks, but she still looks at you like I look at a triple homicide."

"Resulting to similes now?"

"You need to stop that too. Dismissing it whenever somebody is trying to be... kind... to you. That's just annoying and not a good defence mechanism for insecurities, like a mask made of clingfilm, it's too obvious." Mycroft didn't speak in turn and Sherlock huffed. "She worries for you, she seeks for you to be comfortable in trialling situations, her eyes do that little light up thing every time you open your bloody mouth. Since standing here she's looked over 3 times and smiled to herself seeing you stand here with me without us arguing. I caught her 4 times on the way to the cab from the flat looking at your arse and your legs in that damned suit. You don't have to worry about anything with her- the way she looks at you is so lovesick it makes me queasy."

"And you know this how, Sherlock? Or is this another one of your cruel schemes to embarrass me?"

"Because, Mycroft, it's the same way you've looked at her for as long as I can remember you knowing her. Jesus, Mycroft, I haven't seen you smile this much since we were children.. before we did everything that led us to believe we were any better than anybody else, that we deserved more than sentiment. And it's the same way I.. the same way I look at him." Sherlock's eyes now locked onto John.

"Always did say there would be a happy announcement between the pair of you. Good to see I'm correct once again." Mycroft mused. He remained stoic, but his brother's words were whirring in his brain, leaving him in a state of shock at the curly haired man even displaying this form of kindness towards him.

"You told me once that caring isn't an advantage. But these last few days, no matter how short it has been, have already led me to believe that caring is perhaps the greatest advantage of them all. And I strongly believe you feel the same way, no matter what bull you make up to argue against it." The pair of them watched through the window once more, the image of you and John laughing at whatever joke had been shared between you. "We both have wasted many years fighting against this, and I don't want you to screw yours up. Y/N will remain by your side and feel the same way towards you, whether you wear a bin bag, lose your job, put on weight- she's in it for the long haul. She's spent so many years pining after you that she deserves the best from you and to be happy. And you, brother mine, have been through enough with not good people; you deserve the happiness too." Sherlock trailed the last sentence. It's incredibly rare for them to show it, but Sherlock and Mycroft would always have a particularly close bond, they've been through too much together not to- and so times like this were precious to them. Mycroft simply let out a small cough, reaching his arm over to rest on his younger brother's shoulder to give it a quick squeeze, before patting it twice and letting his arm rest back by his side.

"Sentiment appears to be dwelling well on you." Mycroft spoke, heading back to the door of the restaurant to head inside, holding it open for his brother.

"As it is on you, brother. As it is on you."

#mycroft holmes #mycroft #bbc mycroft #bbc mycroft holmes #mycroft x reader #mycroft holmes x reader #bbc mycroft x reader #bbc mycroft holmes x reader #bbc sherlock #mycroft holmes x you #mycroft x you #bbc mycroft x you #bbc mycroft holmes x you #x reader #reader insert #john watson #moriarty #jim moriarty #james moriarty #greg lestrade #gregory lestrade #lestrade #mycroft x reader smut #x reader smut #smut

[fanfic-chan]

hi friend !! could i please request a fic of lee hinata and ler nishinoya where nishinoya's just being playful with hinata (maybe like he's lightly teasing hinata about being a star player but complimenting him on a game well won at the same time, you know how he is lol)

Ahhhhh this prompt was so so fun! I'm really glad it got to be my first Haikyuu fic because I really love how it turned out! I did end up having Tanaka help out a bit towards the end, but Noya is definitely the main ler for sure! I hope that's ok!^^`

A Mischievous Senpai

Ler: Noya

Lee: Hinata

"Come on Hinataaa~!  What are you running for? I'm not going to do anything~!"

"Yes you are! Stay away from me!"

"Sorry, not gonna happen buddy! You might as well give up now! I'm gonna getcha eventually you know, and when I do-"

"No you won't! I'm way faster than you! You'll never take me alive!"

The two shortest crows of Karasuno had been going back and forth in this way ever since the busride back from one of their practice matches against Nekoma, which they had won.

Kageyama had seemed far more wiped out after the game than usual and had pretty much crashed the second he'd sat down. Hinata, however, was still going strong with victory adrenaline, and in an effort to reduce the chances of him waking up their first year setter and making him angry, Suga had quietly pulled Noya aside and asked if he could sit with their kohai on the way back in order to avoid any kind of conflict. After all, the two boys shared such similar energy levels that Suga was secretly hoping that maybe, just maybe, they would end up wearing eachother out so much that by the time they got to the facility they were staying in for the night, they would be so exhausted they would both crash like toddlers.

That did not happen.

In fact, the two of them had only seemed to have energized eachother even more since then, especially after Noya's little 'discovery'.

It had all started when their libero had been complimenting the first year on how well he'd played that night, going on and on about his jumping and his spiking, even going so far as to poke him in the side for emphasis when his kohai had started to get bashful. This had led the younger player to yelp in surprise and giggle involuntarily before he could stop himself. The instant Noya had realized what was happening, his eyes had immediately lit up in excitement.

He would have taken full advantage of this new information right away too if not for the fact that they had arrived at their destination, and Hinata had instantly made a run for it, somehow even managing to be the very first person off the bus despite the fact that they'd been sitting near the back. 

Noya, being the persistent type of person that he was, had decided to bide his time and wait until he could corner his underclassmen again, knowing full and well that there was no way he'd be able to capture the little speed demon if he had room to run.

The opportunity he was waiting for arrived later when the first years came into the room where they had their futons laid out, having finished bathing and getting ready for bed. Hinata, for his part, seemed to have completely forgotten about the situation on the bus, but Noya had been waiting for him, and by the time the redhead noticed the libero, hands formed into claws and a devious look in his eyes, it was already far to late. Tanaka was already teaming up with Noya by blocking the door and there were no third years in sight to save him from his fate. So he did the only thing he could think of and did his best to outrun his senpai in the limited space he had, trampling over futons and dodging around the few people who were present to witness their chaos.

He had been hoping to last just long enough for Suga or Daichi to come back and rescue him, but it was all over when he suddenly tripped over something after zooming past Tsukishima and Yamaguchi for the fourth time.

No sooner than he flopped face first over a row of their futons had Noya gotten on him, and he squealed in ticklish agony when his senpai dug into his sides mercilessly.

"GYAHAHA!! NOHOHO! NOYA SENPAIHIHI!!!

"Ha! I got you now Hinataaa~! Now you're gonna get it!"

The poor middleblocker tried his absolute hardest to squirm away, but the only thing he could manage to do was flip himself over onto his back, which he immediately regretted because it only gave Noya more access to his most ticklish spots, and he cackled hysterically when the older boy dug into his armpits, stomach, and ribs. It wasn't until he started hiccupping a bit that his upperclassmen decided to show him some mercy and give him a break, however, he never got off of him and his mischievous smirk never went away, which gave Hinata the impression that he wasn't safe just yet. Oh God where was Suga when you needed him?!

"I can't believe you actually tripped him Tsukki!"

"They were being far to loud, and it was obvious that neither of them were going to stop until Hinata either escaped or Nishinoya finally caught him. Might as well have sped up the process, and it was far to easy just to stick my foot out and trip the moron. Besides, it's also pretty amusing to see him being put in his place too."

Hinata whipped his head around to look at his two teammates, a look of outrage and betrayal slowly taking over his features as he started to put the pieces together after hearing their conversation. It was Tsukishima's fault that he'd tripped! He was the reason he was at the mercy of his upperclassmen right now!

"Tsuhuhukishima you jeheherk! Thihis is all your fauhauhault! Just wait until I get out of thihihis! I'm gohonna- AIEHEEEE!!"

Hinata's declaration of war on his fellow first year was rudely interrupted all of a sudden when he felt his arms suddenly being pulled up over his head and pinned there, and he looked up to be met with the mischievous grin of Tanaka.

"Hey Noya. Looks like he's recovered pretty fast! But just in case, maybe he'd like some raspberries to get his strength back?"

Huh? Why would he want- Oh crud! No! Not that!

"Dude that's a great idea! What do you think Hinata? Hmm? Do you want some raspberries!? Hmm?! Do ya?!"

"NO!" 

"Is that a yes?"

"NO! PLEAHEAHEASE!!!"

"Oh did you hear that Tanaka? He said please! He must really want them then!"

Hinata struggled uselessly when he felt his senpai lifting his shirt up and started giggling hysterically when he saw him slowly lowering his face to his belly, kicking his legs out behind him in the hopes of getting enough traction to wriggle free. No such luck, though, in all honesty, he wasn't actually trying that hard.

"Noya! No! Pleahehease! Don't do it! Don't- PFFTAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAP IT! NOYA-SAN THAT TIHIHICKLES!! NOHOHOHOHOHO!!"

Despite his loud protests when Noya finally blew the first raspberry over his bellybutton, it was still pretty obvious to everyone in the room that the redhead was having the absolute time of his life right now. His cheeks were flushed a deep pink and his smile was wide and genuine. Even Tsukishima himself couldn't help but think it was endearing, though he obviously kept those thoughts stubbornly hidden under his smug smirk.

Finally, after a few more minutes of torturing his poor underclassmen, he seemed to recognize that he was starting to reach his limit and let up, motioning for Tanaka to let go of his trapped arms as he backed off, and Hinata immediately curled into a little ball the second he was free, giggling happily to himself. 

By the time the third years did show up, Hinata had already fallen asleep with a dozing Noya running his fingers gently through his hair, a soft smile on the middleblocker's slightly flushed face even as he slept. 

Okay. So maybe Suga's original plan of them exhausting eachother had worked afterall, just not in the way he'd originally thought.

#haikyuu tickle #sfw #sfw tickles #ler!Nishinoya #lee!hinata #first Haikyuu fic #tickle fic

[strange-lace]

Son Adopts Father, More at 11

What up, I made a new AU, it’s called Inverted AU where everyone’s personalities are flip flopped while still having relatively the same story roles and originally was just for shenanigans but eventually got emotions, as all my AUs do. I’ll make a full post explaining it later, but here’s a little bit of how MK and Sun Wukong first met and the aftermath of that in this AU.

Enjoy!

Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, was certainly different from what MK expected, for both better and worse.

He wore robes that would fit a monk more than anything else, once bright, rich colored fabrics faded from the wear of time. Golden armor was layered over the clothing yet it didn’t take having an eye for fashion to see that they didn’t match well together. A familiar golden circlet curled around his head as if it’s always belonged there.

Strange fashion aside, the fact that Monkey King’s warm smile didn’t quite reach his tired eyes was enough to make MK decide right away.

Like Pigsy, Tang, Sandy, and Mei before him, the Monkey King… Sun Wukong was also one of MK’s.

After all, he had a habit to taking in the troubled, the broken, and the abandoned. He actively sought them out. Cared for them. Showed them how to care for themselves. Whether or not they chose to stay afterwards was no concern. As long as he knew they were going to be alright on their own without him there.

MK already knew that Sun Wukong was going to be one of the ones who stayed.

“Hello, little one. It’s a pleasure to finally get to meet you face to face.” MK only let out a slight huff as the monkey’s tail wrapped around his waist, picking him up off the ground and back to his feet without any visible effort. He thought with how much snacks he carried around in his backpack, he’d at least weigh something.

“What, you been following me? ...Now wait a hot second-” As soon as he said those words, the puzzle pieces began to click in his mind: the butterfly which he saw on Sandy’s boat and the strange bird which caused him to fall on Red Son, all with suspiciously similar colors and markings. “You have been following me!”

Wukong couldn’t help a slight chuckle at the realization on his face, restraining himself from full on belly laughing.

He was always holding himself back, nothing he wasn’t used to.

“Observant, aren’t you? Why I’d say you’re perfect, my boy.”

“What the hell are you on about, perfect for what?” He let out a squawk in surprise as he was suddenly lifted in the air by Wukong.

“Why to be my successor, of course!”

Silence. MK took in a deep breath, rubbing his temples before he finally found the words to speak.

“You know what? Fine! This is fine, considering how absolutely insane the rest of my day has been! I’ll be your successor, need to beat DBK’s ass anyway before he lays waste to the city. But on one condition.”

“And what might that be, young one?”

“You’re gonna be my dad now.” MK could see the mental equivalent of a record scratching in Wukong’s head at his demand. It was his turn to find amusement in being able to leave an immortal being far older than him floundering and confused for a good few minutes.

“I’m sorry?”

“Nah, you’re fine. I have this thing where I like to take care of people who can’t care for themselves, though Pigsy calls it ‘people collecting’ but that’s besides the point. And I can tell you’re a mess, so you’re mine now. Welcome to the family motherfucker!”

And it wasn’t long after that that MK managed to drag Wukong off the mountain he’d isolated himself on for 500 years. With his newfound mentor as well as father’s advice, MK was able to retrieve his staff back from the Demon Bull family and in the aftermath of the battle, he introduced the Monkey King to his family while he stormed the kitchen to make them a meal.

Pigsy couldn’t help the quiet chuckle at the Monkey King being left in a complete daze.

“You’ll get used to it Mr. Sun. MK certainly has that effect on people.”

He certainly wouldn’t ever forget the scrappy teenager that stomped into his shop one day, noticing he was struggling a bit in running the place by himself and essentially hired himself as an assistant cook and delivery boy. Before Pigsy knew it, MK had made himself a home above the shop and had started calling him ‘Pop’ without any hesitation.

Tang nodded in agreement, trying his best to enjoy the moment of peace from the constant onslaught of work while the city recovered from the battle.

One moment, he was struggling to juggle all his books while stopping for some dinner at this new noodle shop he was recommended by his co-workers. During one of the few moments he could slow down and speak with them, of course. The next moment, MK had wrestled the books from him, sat him down, and had a fresh bowl of noodles with a cup of warm tea ready for him somehow. Noticing his books mentioning Journey to the West, he had been roped into a conversation about the lore of Sun Wukong that lasted for hours before Tang finally noticed how much time had passed. Even though he left in a rush, Tang found himself coming back and being welcomed by MK and Pigsy with the exact same order every time.

“Yeah, he just decides he likes you and before you know it, you’re a part of his family and he’s willing to do almost anything for you,” Mei explained, still not quite used to being in the presence of someone like Sun Wukong but doing her best to be polite.

She remembered what had been a rare walk outside her home into the city became her getting lost without her phone. Her distress must have been evident because MK had literally stopped his cart right beside the road, offering her a ride to someplace with a phone.

“Note for the future, don’t accept rides from complete strangers in the city. This one time is an exception but just don’t be stupid, okay?” His words were harsh but it made Mei think of the older brothers she watched on TV, who wanted to protect their younger siblings without making it obvious they cared.

Eventually she ended up like they all do, at Pigsy’s shop with a fresh bowl of noodles in front of her. She could never get rid of MK after that.

None of them can truly. And in full honesty, they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sun Wukong was truly starting to realize just who he had chose as his successor and was all the more convinced he made a good choice.

Hopefully his master is proud, wherever he is now.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #inverted au #sun wukong #mk #my writing #fanfiction

[sundaysundaes]

Spectra

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader/Female OC | Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff | NC-17 | Soulmate AU, Childhood-Friends-Become-Lovers AU

The second part of Monochrome. Read the epilogue here.

Summary: Lee Donghyuck once believed in the concept of soulmates—how fate would connect a red thread from one lover to another, in a form of dreams and memories. That was how his parents met, that was how they claimed their happiness, and he wanted nothing more but to live his life the way they lived theirs. Until one day, as he sees her slipping away from his hands, he has no choice but to stop believing entirely.

Donghyuck woke up with his heart in his throat. His eyes, as they bore into the ceilings of his room, swallowed by the darkness, were shaking in both fear and rapture. Two things occupied his mind, forcibly pushing his other thoughts away and rendered them pointless.

First, he knew it wasn’t just a dream. Like what she’d previously mentioned, it felt nothing like a dream. He was completely aware of everything, perfectly sane, and could thoroughly remember every detail, every scene, every word that she said even after he woke up.

Second, he was certain that it was a memory, and although he was in it, he knew it was her memory and not his, because there were parts of it that felt vague to him before but were crystal clear now as he saw it through her point of view. He had his first soulmate dream, there was no doubt about it.

So that brought him to the next question.

Why did he dream about her? She’d found her soulmate, hadn’t she? And she had explicitly stated many times that her soulmate was not him, but a complete stranger—one that she only knew by his face and not his name. So, wasn’t he supposed to be connected to someone else—to see someone else’s memories?

He leaned up, sitting on his bed with his elbows sinking into his thighs, his fingers yanking at the roots of his hair. “Fuck, I don’t get it,” he whispered to himself, feeling a little bit lightheaded from all these unsolved questions swirling in his brain. “Am I her soulmate? Do I still have the chance to be with her?”

But even a chance would be enough, he soon decided. Even just reliving her memories every night, knowing her better, seeing her longer, that would be enough reasons for him to continue with his hope.

Perhaps, he could believe in soulmates for a little longer.

There were a few short memories he saw in his first soulmate dream, most of them were from her childhood days which made him feel content to the point he wanted to never wake up because these flashbacks always had him in them. He was an integral part of her childhood memories, the one who shaped her into the person that she was now.

But the memory that shook him the most was the memory of the time they went to the beach during their summer vacation with his family. Donghyuck watched himself sneak out of their cottage in his grey hoodie placed underneath a beige varsity jacket. He saw a few months younger version of himself, grinning from ear-to-ear, as he shouted in whispers.

“Come on, Noona, hurry up!”

“Haechannie, it’s two in the morning!”

The sight of her had always warmed his heart, but in this dream he was having, her beauty seemed almost ethereal as if her entire being was a piece of art with the sole purpose of being loved and admired.

“Which is the more reason why we should hurry up before they find out, Noona, for God’s sake, come on!” He grasped her by the wrist, yanking her forward so he could close the door behind her. They stepped down the stairs in a hurry, their flip-flops making creaking sounds on the wooden surface.

“If your mom finds out and she—” She abruptly ended her sentence with a yelp as she tripped on her feet, clutching her arms around his shoulders for balance, pressing her chest involuntarily against his back. The boy threw a glance over his shoulder, clearly enjoying the way she had her arms wrapped tightly around his body. Smirking suggestively, he cooed, “Baby, you’re so aggressive. At least, buy me dinner first.”

“Asshole.” She retracted her hands at once, shoving him harshly until this time, he was the one who tripped down the stairs, falling face-first on the ground, inadvertently swallowing some sand into his mouth. She concealed her marbled teeth with her fingers as she giggled at the sight, but began to run for her life when he growled, “I’m going to kill you,” and chased after her trails with his arms reaching out to catch her.

The reason they had their feet dipped in the sand at two in the morning was simply because Donghyuck couldn’t sleep at the sight of her curling beside him on the thin mattress that was laid out in the living room. The cottage only had three rooms, one was used by his parents, another one was supposed to be used by her and his twin sister, and the last one was for him and his two younger brothers to snuggle up together in a cramped bed. But Donghyuck had insisted to sleep outside so he could watch a movie before bed and his parents didn’t mind, even if his neighbor ended up joining him in the middle of the night upon his request.

So when she fell asleep next to him, her face almost sinking into the crook of his neck, and her hand laying on his stomach, mistaking him as her usual body pillow, Donghyuck had to distract himself before he thought about doing something sinful. So he shook her by the shoulder, told her to wipe the drool away from her face, and asked her to follow him outside, mentioning that he suddenly had the urge to stargaze. And although a train of complaints kept tumbling down her lips, she followed—she always did, no matter where he led her to.

“What are you doing?” He questioned the girl who stood next to him, looking like she wanted him to do something. “Sit down next to me, come on.”

“I’m waiting for you to be a gentleman.”

“What?”

“Aren’t you supposed to lay down your jacket on the ground so this lady right here won’t have sand on her shorts? You’re wearing two jackets, after all.”

“Yeah, but not for you to sit on it.” Donghyuck, who had already sat down on the damp sand, rolled his eyes. “You watch too many dramas. Guys don’t do that in real life.”

“It’s you who don’t do that.” And with pouty lips, she quietly added, “Jaemin did that for me.”

“I heard that.”

“I wanted you to hear it.”

“And so how are things going on with this Jaemin so far? Is he still giving you sloppy blowjobs on the weekends?” He faked a gasp, one hand covering his mouth for dramatic effect. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot he broke up with you.” A cheeky grin crawled up his face. “On. Your. Fucking. Birthday.”

“Whatever.” She blushed. “At least, he’s hotter than you’ll ever be.”

He seemed more annoyed than he should, and she was on the verge of thinking whether her joke was going too far but Donghyuck exhaled loudly into the air, standing up on his feet again and tore his varsity jacket off his body. “Here,” he said, as he spread it out on the ground. “Your majesty.”

“Why, thank you, my prince.” She giggled, plopping down on the sand. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

And they ended up throwing playful kicks and punches to each other again like the other million times they did, before they finally laid side-by-side on the sand, sweaty and out of breath.

“Haechannie.”

“What?”

“Do you think we'll still do this after we get married and have kids?” She asked, gazing at the stars that gleamed radiantly in the black night sky.

“Us?” Donghyuck rubbed his nose, a speck of sand making his skin itchy. “Like, in bed? Well, I don’t know about you, but I think I might be into rough sex, but maybe after a few years deep into our marriage so you won’t—”

“Not us getting married, you idiot!” She grappled another handful of sand, threatening to throw it on his face but Donghyuck already had his arms raised in surrender. “I mean, do you see us hanging out like this when we already have our own families to think about?”

“I don’t like to think too much.” He nonchalantly shrugged. “It’s still way ahead in the future. I’d probably die an early death from being too rich and handsome, anyway.”

“You’d die from being too dumb.”

“I was talking about me, not you.” He swatted her hand away when she was about to shove him in the chest. “Speaking of getting married, why don’t we make a pact?” Though his heart was racing a bit faster, he kept his lopsided grin intact as they shared eye contact. “If, after we turn eighteen, we end up having no dreams of our soulmates, why don’t you and I get together?”

She unexpectedly blurted out laughing. “I can understand if you think that there’s a chance of me not having any soulmate, but the chance of me not finding anyone more decent than you as my husband? How dare you, Lee Donghyuck.”

“I’m just saying,” he repeated, turning on his stomach. “If by the time we turn thirty or something we still haven’t found anyone, why don’t you and I get married?”

“I thought we’ve promised somewhere along the way in our poor little friendship that we’d never talk about this again?”

“I think we’re mature enough to have this conversation by now. So, what do you think?”

She was still on the verge of laughing. “What I think about what, Haechannie, you’re being absolutely crazy and embarrassing—”

“Why is it so hard for you to just say yes and marry me?” He insisted, holding back a laugh himself because her smile was so contagious. “Is it seriously that gross for you to think of me as your husband?”

“It’s not that, it’s—Oh my God, okay,” she finally gave in, heaving the heaviest sigh before she sat up properly and turned toward him. “Look, you’re not exactly the most romantic person out there.”

“Hey,” he pouted, scowling a little. “I can be romantic. You just don’t know it yet because you’ve never seen me on a date.”

“Yeah? Then try me.”

“Try what?”

“Be romantic. Do something that can make my heart flutter for you, oh my mighty prince,” she jeered, throwing a challenging, mocking smile at him. “If you can make my heart skip a beat, I’ll marry you.”

He scoffed. “Man, I know you’re shy but you don’t have to challenge me with this pathetic dare if you want to marry me that bad.”

She stood up immediately. “I’m leaving.”

He was chuckling as he captured her by the wrist. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, wait.” He tapped his chin, nibbling slightly on his bottom lip. “Let’s see… What should I do…. What should I—oh!”

She raised an eyebrow, seeing him stand up on his feet. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna take you dancing.” He offered her his hand and she stared at it with reluctance written in her eyes before she sighed and took it. He pulled her abruptly with all his strength to make her stumble on her feet, but he caught her just in time by circling his arms around her waist, leading her close until they’re chest-to-chest.

“Blushing yet?” He teased, smirking.

“I’m starting to think this is a bad idea,” she flatly said, pushing him away but he took her hand and placed it on his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“As I said,” he paused, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and running his thumb along the screen. He chose one of the acoustic songs in his music playlist—Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud which made her scrunch her nose in protest—turned his speaker to the highest volume and hid the phone in the pocket of his hoodie. “I’m gonna take you dancing.”

She snorted but followed his lead, landing both of her arms on his shoulders. “Why am I not surprised that your song choice is something from Billboard’s Top Twenty?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I left my compilation of classic slow dance songs back at my house, along with my ballet shoes and my tutus.”

She narrowed her eyes at his sarcasm. “Okay, Ed Sheeran it is then.”

The first half of the song went by in what felt like hours to her from all the tension that arose between them. While she moved rather awkwardly, trying to match how his body slightly swayed from one side to another, Donghyuck smiled, softer than she could even begin to imagine, and gently asked, “Can I move closer?”

She could faintly feel his breath on her face even in their current position, but she gave a weak nod and answered, “S-sure.”

Donghyuck held back a grin. “Was that a stutter?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I do stutter from time to time, idiot. Everyone does that.”

“Okay, okay, geez. Cranky, much?”

“I’m just not sure if—” she took a sharp intake of breath when he suddenly leaned closer, his lips almost grazing against hers before he pulled away to give very little space between them. “You’re not playing fair,” she whispered, trying not to focus on his lips.

His eyes were half-lidded as he took in her features. “You didn’t make any rules.”

“I hate you.”

“Man, I was hoping you’d feel otherwise, but,” he guided her hands so they could circle themselves around his neck, as he moved his own lower on her body, resting on each side of her waist. “I only just started, so…”

She was breathing a little heavily, but not expanding the space between them, afraid to lose the game. She didn’t want to give him any more reason to ridicule her. “Right, so, what’s next? Because you’re not making me feel anything with this, Haechannie.”

He slowly brushed her bangs away from her eyes, his fingertips grazing against the soft skin of her temple. “Have I told you about the day when I realized I love you?”

That question almost rendered her frozen on her feet, but she caught herself at the last second. “A pick-up line?” She tried to pretend it didn’t have any effect on her by scoffing out loud. “Seriously?”

But Donghyuck was not laughing nor reciprocating in any teasing manner. His eyes were dark and deep, with all kinds of emotions swirling behind them. The tone he was using when he spoke his next words was filled with nothing but sincerity and candor.

“Maybe I’ve loved you since the first time we met, but…” He added a small chuckle as if he was shy and she wondered since when did he become such a good actor? “I guess I was too young, but I do remember that one time when I saw you and I thought,” he exhaled, reaching up a hand to cup her cheek before he pressed his temple against hers, “God, I gotta have her.”

She gulped hard, feeling her breath hitched in her throat. She just hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“You were wearing this beautiful red dress that I’d never seen you worn before, but it wasn’t just how pretty you looked that caught me off guard.” His words didn’t have as much effect on her as the tender way he regarded her with his deep, brown eyes, just utterly mesmerized by her everything. “It was the way you call my name with that adorable shy smile on your face, asking me about how you look and I just….” He leaned down so they’re eye-to-eye, with his fingers holding her face and his thumb caressing her cheek. “I just thought that maybe I want to keep you for myself. I want to hear you say my name, to show me that smile again, over and over—every day, for the rest of my life. I don’t want you to belong to someone else. I want to be the only one you can think about, both in your reality and your dreams.”

As if she was being hypnotized, her eyes began to solely focus on the way his mouth was shaping praises and terms of longing.

“I’ve never seen you as a friend, or a sister.” He was so close, so warm, so intoxicating. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything—anyone—as much as I want you now and it fucking hurts to hear another guy’s name escaping your lips because I just really…” He sighed. “Really want you for myself. All of you. Your kindness, your warmth, your crazy bedhead, your stupid, silly grin whenever you won a game against me. I want everything, and I need you to feel the same way, to need me as much as I need you.”

“Haechannie, I—”

“Listen, Noona.” His voice sounded both pained and desperate. “I know you don’t feel the same way, you don’t have to tell me that but I just—I want to be selfish, even more than I already am, and let you know just how much I want to be with you,” his other hand traced along the dip of her spine, “and hold you,” the fingers that were cupping her cheek were now holding her by the chin, his thumb running along her lower lip, “and kiss you…”

She unconsciously parted her lips, perhaps putting her best effort to find her words but failed every time and the temptation that he felt to replace his finger with his own lips on her was too overwhelming so before anything went wrong, he pulled back and loudly yelled, “Okay, cut!”

The sudden loss of his touch on her body didn’t feel as disheartening to him as the look he saw on her face, and maybe the way the moonlight shone across her features was playing tricks on him, because she seemed… disappointed that he stopped.

Maybe she just got carried away with the moment. Or maybe she could tell that he was being honest the whole time, knowing that it was an actual confession rather than another crazy antic of his. And maybe she was about to give him the chance, to actually look at him in the same way he looked at her, to feel the way he felt about her, and…

And he ruined the moment.

“N-Noona?” He started when she fell quiet, hiding her eyes behind her bangs. “Are you—”

“It’s getting late,” she suddenly mentioned, bending down to grab his varsity jacket from the sandy ground and harshly pushed it toward him. “Let’s get back to the cottage. We need to catch some sleep.” And as she walked off, not glancing back to see whether he was following or not, Donghyuck noticed how red her face was even when there wasn’t enough lighting around them.

As a bystander in this memory, eighteen-year-old Lee Donghyuck felt a hollow forming inside his chest, swallowing his presence one-by-one until he ceased to exist because as he relived the situation for the second time in his life, he knew how badly he had screwed everything up. He had turned his honest confession into another teasing joke because he just wasn’t brave enough to take the risks—to tell her his actual feelings in fear of ruining the bond that they already had. He saw the look on her face vividly this time, and it wasn’t pure rejection. He had a hope, she was about to give in, and he lost his chance.

And now, as she fell harder for the stranger she met in her dreams, Donghyuck was nothing but a memory—one that she’d bury at the back of her mind, one that she’d pretend to never have existed in her life.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Hyuck,” he muttered under his breath before he blinked himself awake.

***

“Haechannie! Are you up yet?”

Donghyuck could hear a clanking sound on his window, perhaps from small rocks hitting the glass. Rubbing the headache away from the back of his head, he stepped down from the bed, taking heavy steps to greet the person standing on the other side of the window.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” his neighbor chirped with an excited smile, leaning half of her body forward, crossing over her window frame. He noticed how her eyes took a quick detour on his body, as he was not wearing any shirt, but she tried to act nonchalant about it. “A lady is gracing you with her presence, so get dressed.”

Usually, he would’ve said something flirty along the line of “But isn’t this how I always look like in your dreams?” But this time, he kept himself quiet, only sighing to himself as if he had troubles that he couldn’t talk about.

And she noticed. She always did. “Are you okay?”

“Just had a bad dream.” He shrugged, feeling sleepier than before he went to bed.

“I’m guessing, you haven’t met your soulmate yet?”

He hesitated. “Well, I saw you.”

She blinked, a bit startled, but she promptly laughed it off. “Right, must have sucked then. You were waiting for a pretty stranger and I popped out instead. Sorry about that.”

He tapped his fingers against the railing, somewhat agitatedly and impatient. “Noona, about last night when we accidentally kissed. Did it… make you feel something?”

He swore, she almost fell to the floor out of shock. Blood was rushing to her face, making her incoherent. “What—why—I thought we were going to pretend it didn’t happen—”

He knew it was probably a bad idea to question all this, but if he did have the chance to be with her, no matter how small it is, if she really did feel the same way, he had to know. He couldn’t make the same mistake again.

“I thought about your reaction after that kiss. I just want to know whether it made you feel something.” He was gripping the railings by then, sounding desperate, craving for her honesty. “Something about me.”

She sputtered, mouth gaping as she was rendered speechless. But before she could react any further, they both heard her mother calling her name. Donghyuck regarded it as a distraction, but to her, it was a lifesaver. Speaking in a sense of urgency, she said, “I gotta go.”

“Noona—”

“Haechannie.” The tone she was using was definite, not wanting to hear more words from him. “I think we should stop talking about it, especially when we’re a step closer to finding our soulmates.”

He frowned, feeling as if he just got impaled. “What are you—”

“I know his name now.” A weak smile appeared on her face. “I heard someone calling his name in my dream last night. That was what I was going to tell you.”

It appeared again, the hollow inside his chest, and it grew even bigger, sucking every part of him like a black hole. “So you’re going to pretend nothing happened between us?”

“Yes, because nothing happened between us,” she professed. “It was just an accident, Haechannie.” She seemed exhausted, almost as if answering his question was draining her physically. “None of us wanted that kiss to happen.”

Donghyuck glanced away, giving her the cold shoulder. “Sure. Whatever.”

She sighed, tired of his behavior. “Look, maybe you’re just confused because of everything that happened last night, what with us spending time alone holding hands, me giving you that locket with those words—maybe we crossed the line and I apologize for that since half of it was my fault. But whatever it is that you think is happening between us will disappear the second you meet your soulmate in your dream,” she claimed, using a tone like how a mother would console her crying child. “I don’t ever want to be apart from you but if being with me makes you feel awkward and uncomfortable, maybe it’s best if we keep our distance for now?”

He gaped, his heart almost leaping out of his chest. “No! That’s not what—”

Her mother’s voice rang through the air again, making her flinch. “Look, I really gotta go,” she softly said with a timid smile. “We’ll talk later?”

And before he could answer, she already stepped away from her window. She didn’t look back until she had her fingers curving against her doorknob. “Oh, and umm,” she paused, looking unsure before she looked sideways. “His name is Mark Lee, my soulmate. Just thought you should know.”

And she left, trampling on his heart with every step she took.

***

There was an invisible wall between them, and no matter how hard Donghyuck tried to tear it apart, it wouldn’t budge so instead of fixing things, he decided to give her the time and space she needed.

Because what else could he have done? She had already rejected him before he could even confess properly—or for real, this time around. It was as if she was scared to give in to her feelings, which made him feel even more confident that she had felt something for him. She was just too lost in this whole soulmate concept that it blinded her entirely, while he, on the other hand, had begun to stop believing in it and dwell himself deeper in reality rather than his dreams.

But when one of his bandmates, Lee Jeno, announced that his cousin was going to come in to temporarily fill the position of lead guitar player in their band, Donghyuck had no other choice but to believe that fate did take part in connecting a red thread from one lover to another. Because, standing in a pair of jeans and a black shirt with his eyes half-covered by his white snapback, was Mark Lee—her soulmate.

Donghyuck could tell that he was the same Mark Lee she mentioned because he had seen her drawings of him. It had taken her weeks before she could finish his sketch, drawing him solely based on the memories she had witnessed in her dreams and though it wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, she did manage to sketch his distinct features—his prominent cheekbones, his thin, curvy lips, his wide, doe eyes.

The sight of him, standing just two meters away from him, sent chills down his spine.

“Hey guys,” Mark said, giving them a tentative smile. Even his awkwardness looked exactly the way she described him to be.

“This is Lee Donghyuck, our vocalist.” Jeno introduced him, “He’s an ass and you’ll probably get into a fight with him sooner or later—we all did—but after that, he’ll get all clingy to you. Just a heads up so you won’t be surprised and end up leaving the band before the gig.”

Mark laughed at that, friendly and warm, and it set Donghyuck’s heart ablaze for an entirely different reason. It was the first time he met him and yet he already despised everything that he was.

“It’s weird,” Mark said, offering his hand for a handshake. “I thought your friends call you Haechan too.”

Donghyuck froze, almost losing his grip on his phone. “What?”

Mark blinked, the realization hit him like a wave when he looked around, noticing everyone looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and questioning eyes. “Oh, I mean,” he panicked, “I-it’s nothing. I was just talking to myself. I’m weird that way.”

“Don’t worry, bud,” Jeno said, picking up his bass. “We’re all a bunch of freaks here. That’s why we get along.”

Mark smiled but seemed more like a grimace. He turned toward Donghyuck again. “Sorry about that. Nice to meet you, Lee Donghyuck. I hope we can be friends.”

Donghyuck took his hand but wished for the exact opposite.

***

“Do you have some time to spare, Donghyuck-ah?”

Donghyuck already knew who it was without having to glance up from his phone screen. It wasn’t because Mark’s voice was distinct to his ears, it was simply because his voice and the way he said his name as if they were best friends irked him so much.

“No,” Donghyuck answered, tapping his thumbs rapidly to earn another high score on the game he was playing. He was squatting down on the ground with his shoulders slouched forward. They just finished having their third band practice in the same studio that week, and although he was drained to his boots, Jeno kept insisting to have another practice so they wouldn’t embarrass the shit out of themselves when they performed as the opening act at prom.

Mark laid his guitar case against the wall before he took a seat next to him in the alley that stood behind their music studio. “Well, you look like you do, so I’m just gonna sit here and ask you something.”

Donghyuck scoffed. “You’re actually pretty annoying, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t like me—”

“I dislike people in general, so don’t consider yourself special.”

Mark seemed amused at his words which pissed him off even more. “I know we just met for a few days and it’s probably better for me to leave you alone—”

“And yet, here you are, talking to me when I’m trying to finish this fucking game.” He moved his thumbs more frantically than before, making Mark worry that he was going to break his phone screen, and stopped when the game ended with him winning second place. “Look what you’ve done. Happy now?”

“I thought that was a pretty high score.”

“That was the lowest score I’ve ever achieved in my life.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just fuck off, Mark.” Even when his tone sounded final, Mark did not budge.

“I promise I’ll leave you alone after this, but I just really need to ask something first,” he said, slightly forcing the other man to look at him by placing an arm on his shoulder. “I see you a lot in my dreams.”

Donghyuck knew exactly what he meant, but he wasn’t going to dwell himself in it. “Sorry, dude,” he uttered, slapping his hand away. “I’m not gay.”

“No. That’s not what I meant.” Mark had the bravery to laugh about it. “You’ve heard about the soulmate dream, right? How you could see your soulmate’s memories—”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about it and I’m also not interested.” He stood up, tucking his phone back to the pocket of his jeans, and leaned sideways to grab his backpack. “I’m leaving.”

“Please.” Mark stopped him by wrapping his thin fingers along his wrist. “Please help me. By your reaction, I know she’s told you about me and I want to find her—I need to find her. I just don’t know where to start. I don’t even know her name.”

“Well, it’s not my fucking problem, is it?” Donghyuck harshly pulled his wrist away, stomping his feet on the pavement, away from the other man.

Mark stood up, desperation sounding thick in his voice. “Can’t we just—Donghyuck-ah!”

“Fuck off, Mark.”

“You love her, don’t you?”

That stopped him in his tracks, making him turn on his heels, hissing, “Excuse me?”

Mark fidgeted slightly, swallowing his breath. “You’re acting this way because you love her. More than a friend. That’s why you don’t want to help me.”

He had earned his whole attention now. “The reason why I’m not helping you is simply because you’re a fucking stranger who’s looking for ways to get into my best friend’s pants.”

“I’m not—” Mark blushed. “Listen, I’m just trying to find my soulmate. I know she’s looking for me too. I’ve seen her memories. I’ve seen you spending a lot of time with her too. I won’t be surprised if you end up having feelings for her—”

Donghyuck almost bared his teeth. “Shut up.”

“But she’s not your soulmate, so—“

“Shut the fuck up!” It happened so fast for Mark’s eyes to catch, but the next thing he knew, Donghyuck’s fingers were fisting the collar of his shirt, slamming his body against the wall and Mark groaned lowly, feeling pain spreading like wildfire from the back of his skull.

“You don’t know anything about me, Mark Lee.” The way Donghyuck spat out his name was laced with nothing but venom. “And don’t you dare talk to me about this soulmate bullshit. Falling in love with a complete stranger just because you saw her in your dreams? Do you know how fucking ridiculous you sound in my head?”

Still wincing from the pain, he replied, “I saw the way you looked at her.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Donghyuck snarled, tightening his grip around the fabric of his shirt. “And if I were you, I would just fuck off and try my luck finding her somewhere else because I’m not gonna tell you anything. Do we have that clear?”

Mark didn’t say a word in response, but his eyes were locked into his. Donghyuck could see how they didn’t waver in the slightest, and the way Mark’s fingernails were sinking deep into his wrist let him know that this man could hold his own battle if needed.

Donghyuck released his hold with a hard shove, and Mark didn’t blink an eye even after knowing his strength.

“Just so you know,” Mark said, when Donghyuck began to step away, slinging his backpack to one of his shoulders. “She would’ve done the opposite for you. She would’ve helped you find your soulmate. But I guess, you already know that.”

Donghyuck stomped off, kicking a trash can on his way out until it toppled over to the ground.

***

Their next band practice was filled with nothing but severe tension between him and Mark, and Jeno had to sigh in exasperation every time one of them made a mistake and blamed the other for it.

“The two of you,” he said, scowling at the two boys who were still trying to murder each other with their glares. “Just go home. Now.”

And unlike Mark, Donghyuck didn’t hesitate—didn’t even try to reason. He just snatched his backpack and walked out the door, slamming his shoulder against Mark’s on his way out.

Jeno grimaced, probably imagining the trouble Mark had to bear while seeing him rubbing off the pain. “Remember when I told you he’s an ass?”

Mark timidly smiled. “Yeah.”

Donghyuck walked home with a sore throat and sweaty bangs. He was no longer as furious as before, but he had to make sure to push every thought of Mark away from his head if he wanted to spend the rest of his evening in peace. He was beyond exhausted and in desperate need of a good, warm shower. He glanced at the house he grew to be more familiar than his own, feeling disappointed that she wasn’t sitting on her porch, waiting for his arrival like usual though she would never admit that out loud.

Well, he should’ve seen that coming. After what happened that morning, he would’ve avoided him too if he was her. But almost a week had passed and they had no interaction, not even meeting each other by coincidence. And although she seemed fine with it, Donghyuck felt more than miserable.

God, if only I can stop missing her so much…

But he couldn’t, so he broke through her fence, and turned over the doorknob of her front door. “Auntie? It’s me. I’m coming in.”

The clicking sounds of footsteps meeting vinyl flooring had him excited in anticipation of her face and the shy, awkward smile she always threw whenever they had arguments a few moments before. But the one who greeted him was her mother, grinning widely at the sight of him as she wiped her hands on her apron.

“Ah, Hyuckie,” she squealed. “Glad you’re here, I was just making dinner. Wanna join us?”

“Oh, no thanks. I just ate something on the way back. Is she here?”

“She said she was heading to the park to draw something. It was hours ago, though. I’m also wondering why she hasn’t come home yet.”

“I see…” There was a knot in his stomach again, making him feel uneasy but he beamed at her again. “Well, I think she’ll be back soon but I’ll go search for her, just in case.”

She pressed a hand against her heart. “Aaw. Always being her knight in shining armor. She’s so lucky to have you.”

He blushed but covered it with a peal of bashful laughter. Saying his goodbye, he turned around to take his leave but she stopped him with a call of his name. “Yeah, auntie?”

“Have you heard…” She hesitated. “Have you heard about her soulmate?”

Donghyuck curled his fingers. “A little.”

Her eyes gleamed in sadness and, as much as Donghyuck hated to see it, sympathy. “Are you okay, Hyuckie? With all of this?”

Thunder roared inside his chest, making him stand still. “What—of course, I’m fine. I’m glad she’s having these dreams. She’ll probably gonna see him soon.”

And Donghyuck never pegged himself as an actor, but seeing how she gradually picked up her motherly smile back on her face and no longer staring at him as if one of his family members just died in such a tragic way, maybe he had a natural talent in lying about his emotions.

“I’m so glad you’re taking this well. I guess I’m not as sharp as I used to be.” She chuckled to herself, a bit diffident. “To tell you the truth, I was rooting for you to be her soulmate. You guys just look so adorable together, but maybe it’s weird for you since you probably think of her as a sister or something.”

“That’s right.” There was a crack in his voice, but he hastily covered it with another smile. “A sister.”

“Which turns out to be a good thing. Because if you love her that way but she’s not your soulmate then it’s going to be hard on both of you.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You see, finding a soulmate is a rare, wonderful thing that can only occur once in a lifetime. It’s a sign from fate, and if you ignore that sign, if you don’t accept who your soulmate is and be with someone else, something bad will happen, either to yourself or to your relationship.”

“Something bad like what?”

“I don’t know, it just usually doesn’t work out.” She frowned a little bit, noticing how he seemed unusually invested with the topic. “It’s just a rumor, though, darling. So just take any of this with a grain of salt. No one can prove whether it’s true or false.”

“Of course, yeah.” He shook his head, taking control of himself. “Well, thanks anyway. I gotta go.”

“Take care, Hyuckie. And let me know when you start dreaming about your soulmate! I want to know who the lucky girl is!”

He waved a hand, replying to her with a smile but not promising anything.

***

It was already nightfall when he came to his senses, and he hadn’t found her no matter how many steps had he taken in the search of her presence. He had visited the park she often went to in her spare time, the garden near their houses, even the cafe where she once grew fond of. And yet, she was nowhere to be found.

He had tried to call her several times but they were always directed to her voicemails, and he grew even more anxious with more time passing by, worried sick of her well-being.

So when she finally walked past his house, carrying her sketchbook in her arms and a dazed smile on her face, Donghyuck nearly screamed.

“Where the hell have you been?!” He shouted, jumping off his porch and ran to her spot. She was startled, her entire body shaking by the sound of his voice. Her sketchbook slipped from her hands, meeting the cold hard ground that was slightly damp from the drizzle.

“You scared me,” she said, her hand going to her chest. “I was just from the park—“

“I was from the park and you weren’t there!” His eyes were scanning her profile, making sure she was fine. “Where have you been? Do you know how late it is?”

She frowned. “Why do you sound like my mother?”

“I’m not—” Donghyuck exhaled loudly through his nose, trying to collect himself. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m fine, so you can stop acting so weird.” She bent down to pick up her sketchbook, but he was faster. “Thanks.” She awkwardly smiled when he handed it to her, noticing how his fingertips brushed hers ever so slightly. “Have you been looking for me all this time? I thought you were avoiding me.”

“I thought you were avoiding me.”

There were a good few seconds of silence where they just gazed deep into each other’s eyes before they began to quietly laugh, exchanging sheepish smiles with knowing eyes. “I guess we avoided each other for nothing then,” she said, holding out her hand. “Are we okay? With everything?”

Donghyuck’s eyes were soft and longing as they peered into hers. He took her hand and pulled her forward until she landed on his chest, embracing her tightly with both arms. “We’re okay.”

“Good,” she lightly murmured, placing her chin on his shoulder as she tiptoed to match his height. “Because I’ve missed you, Haechannie. You and your whole stupid antics.”

It still felt awkward for him, and maybe for her too, to suddenly ignore their heated debate about the kiss they shared and the feelings they had for each other. And maybe they would fight about it again in the future, probably with him starting the fire the second he lost control of his emotions again. But he wanted to forget all of that for now, just for tonight, so he could focus on how perfect she felt in his arms, how both overwhelmingly intoxicating and comforting her scent was, and how nice it was to hear his name falling down her lips.

“I’ve missed you too, Noona,” he whispered. “You could’ve at least texted me where you were. I was worried sick about you.”

“Okay, that was what I was going to tell you.” She pulled away slightly so she could look at him with a pair of animated eyes. “I just went on a date.”

“A… date?” He shivered. “With who?”

“With Mark Lee.” Her cheeks turned rosy with her smile nearly splitting her face in half. “My soulmate.”

Donghyuck gaped, a spark of electricity running through his veins. “H-how?” He swallowed hard.

“A funny story, actually.” She shyly rubbed her nose. “I was trying to draw that pine tree near the pond—the one where we used to carve our names on—and I saw him passing by with his guitar case strapped to his back and a camera in his hand—just like the first time I saw him in my dream. And he saw me through his camera lens and then we were just staring at each other with our mouth wide-open, like can you believe it? It just happened out of nowhere. He noticed me at the same time I noticed him so he must have been seeing me in his dreams too.”

With more words falling from her lips, Donghyuck’s heart raced even faster. It was the first time in his life he ever felt terrified down to his soul. He felt weak, powerless and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find a way to win against fate. He didn’t know how to defy his destiny.

Though she was an arm’s reach away, it felt like they existed in different universes.

***

It’s hard to pretend to be fine when deep down inside, you feel like drowning and Donghyuck knew how that felt first hand. She regularly came by to his room to say hello but she never laid herself down on his bed. She never touched his arms when she laughed. She no longer pressed her cheek against his shoulder when she felt sleepy. He could tell that she was trying to respect his feelings, not wanting to lead him further ever since that accidental kiss happened. She was trying to be cautious, to draw lines between them, so he’d know his boundaries and stay still on his place, and continue to regard her as nothing but a friend.

It was torture.

They no longer spent their nights together, with her making excuses about studying for her final tests and her college entrance exams. And Donghyuck didn’t mind, though his heart craved desperately for her attention because he couldn’t properly breathe whenever she was around. He felt like he was transforming into someone else, almost like a robot, that only smiled when she smiled and responded with words as little as necessary.

He continued seeing her in his dreams every night, and only then could he truly feel joy. Only then he could have the time to look at her face as long as he wanted. Only then he could hear her calling his name without inflicting some kind of pain in his chest. But even then, he still couldn’t touch her. Even then, she was still out of reach.

She was moving out of town before long, preparing herself to settle at her dorm before she started her first year in college.

“Hey,” Donghyuck softly called, as he leaned against her doorframe, watching her finish packing what was left in her room. It was unfamiliar, he thought, the sight of her room now that her novels were packed in boxes, her clothes were no longer hanging inside her closet, the posters of her favorite idols folded and unseen. It was only her scent that somehow still linger faintly in the air that seemed recognizable to him.

“Hi.” She smiled back, her shoulders going down in relief at the sight of him smiling sheepishly with his eyes peeking from under his bangs. “I was beginning to think that you wouldn’t come to say goodbye.”

“Of course, I would. I’m your best friend, aren’t I?”

“Well, I haven’t seen you in a while.” The way she said it, almost heartbrokenly, made his smile falter from his face.

“Yeah, sorry, I was…” He scratched his cheek. “Busy.”

She took a good look at him, not saying anything and it made him feel queasy. “I saw you on stage during your graduation,” he said, changing the topic. “You looked beautiful.”

“Why didn’t you come to say hi? I was looking for you.”

You did? “You seem occupied with your friends and family. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Haechannie,” she sighed and he wondered what kind of mistake did he make with his words. “You’ll never bother me. I mean, yes, you bother me a lot as in you annoy the hell out of me but you never bother me with your presence. I missed you on that day. I’ve been missing you for the whole week. And I still kinda miss you now.”

He grew weak. “I miss you too.”

“Why do we keep saying these things when we literally live next to each other?” She chuckled but it sounded dry before she gave in to the silence again. “Are things… okay between us?”

He tried not to flinch. “Were things not okay between us before?”

“I don’t know, you were acting a bit weird after…” She knew the words, she just wasn’t sure whether it was wise for her to say them. “Well, after everything that happened. I just wasn’t sure how to approach you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I guess there were just a lot of things running through my mind at the same time.” He brought his head down, looking at his feet. “I’m okay now, though. And I hope we can go back to how we were.”

“Of course, Haechannie.” She stood up, opening her arms to him and he answered immediately, half-running to her spot before he circled his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She sighed the second their skins make contact with each other, exhaling in relief. “Please don’t ever give me the cold shoulder again. I can’t stand it.”

“Okay, okay.” He almost let his lips graze her temple as he spoke. Almost. “Do you want to go somewhere, just the two of us? You’re not leaving until tomorrow, right?”

“I won’t be leaving until next year if that’s what you want me to do.” She grinned childishly. “So take me away, Haechannie. I’m all yours.”

And although he mirrored her grin, his heart was shattering one piece at a time because he knew she only meant her last line as a fleeting joke, and yet he wanted it to become a promise made solely for him.

They tried to catch up as much as they could during dinner in the cafe that she loved so much. He hated the taste of their food—everything somehow felt either too sweet or too sour on his tongue—but he never mentioned it to her, not wanting to erase her happy grin whenever she took a spoonful of gelato into her mouth. Their conversations didn’t go as awkward as he had imagined, but it ended up with her asking more questions and with him only nodding or shaking his head in response. He tried to cover it up with smiles or waves of laughter, and noticing how she hadn’t complained about it so far, maybe he did a pretty good job of masking his feelings.

“It feels so good to have you back,” she said, hands buried deep in the pocket of her coat as she blew hot air into the cold weather, watching puffs of air forming in front of her lips.

They were walking back to their houses, matching their steps with one another with their voices being the only ones that could be heard within the neighborhood. It was late, and she knew she really should have gone to catch some sleep to wake up early on the next day but Donghyuck’s voice in her ears was soothing, making her long to hear more of it, especially when she knew, she wouldn’t be able to hear it again in a while.

Donghyuck sank half of his face behind his scarf. “I never left you, though.”

“Liar. You totally avoided me this whole time.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? You kissed me and pretended it didn’t mean shit.”

“I kissed you?!” She gasped, blushing as she stopped in her tracks. “It was an accident!”

Donghyuck turned around, facing her. “It was still a kiss, nonetheless.”

They were walking on a thin rope. He knew it was a sensitive topic, and she also knew that it was best for them to avoid it but she was leaving on the next day and she couldn’t help but feel that he was still holding secrets from her. It was time for her to face this once and for all, so they could go back to the way they were before it was too late.

“What exactly do you want me to do about it?” She nervously asked, but tried to keep her voice steady. “I can’t exactly turn back time.”

Donghyuck’s eyes glinted mysteriously under the dim lighting of the streetlight. “You really want to have this conversation after what happened to us last time?”

“It’s not like you’re giving me any options. I just want us to be like how we used to, not with you acting all awkward and agreeing to every word I said.”

“So you noticed? I thought I was putting a good act.”

“Haechannie.” It was almost like a plead, the way she said his name. “I’m tired of seeing you like this. Like you’re in pain and I’m the one who caused it. So if you have anything to say, say it right now. What are you so upset about, exactly?”

He took his time contemplating, he really did, but he hadn’t finished thinking everything through before his emotions took control over him again, making him blurt out, “I don’t know, I guess I’m just pissed because you seem fine the next day after that kiss happened and I’m over here losing sleep still trying to sort out my goddamn feelings for you.” There was a pause, as he tried to catch his breath, but before she could form a response, he questioned, “Do you ever feel something for me, Noona?”

She swallowed. “I don’t know, I’m—”

“Be honest.”

Another pause, where silence struck like a hurricane. “Maybe I did have feelings for you in the past,” she finally admitted and his eyes gleamed in both joy and anticipation, “But even then, I wasn’t sure because we grew up together, Haechannie. We slept on the same bed, we even took baths together. I wasn’t sure of how I felt because I never had this kind of relationship with anyone before.” She sighed, rubbing the side of her temple. “And with you constantly making me confused on whether you had feelings for me or not also didn’t make this any easier for me.”

“What about now?” It was the question that mattered the most to him. “How do you feel about me now?”

“Haechannie—”

“No, listen to me.” He stepped forward, wrapping his lean fingers along her wrist. “Remember that time on the beach when you dared me to be romantic and I told you I loved you? I think you know by now that I wasn’t pretending that night—”

She averted her gaze, trying to pull her hand away. “Please stop—”

“Noona.” He cupped her cheeks with both hands, lifted her face so she could only look at him. “I still feel the same way about you. It never changed, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it because I cared about our friendship as much as you do, but—”

“Stop.” Lying a hand on his chest, she tried to push him away. “It isn’t right. You’re not my soulmate, we shouldn’t do this—”

“I don’t care about your fucking soulmate!”

The sudden roar that erupted from his mouth was echoing loud in her ears, making her freeze on her feet, with her hands shivering against his chest. She looked frightened and it tore him to pieces. Cursing under his breath, he stepped away, his skin no longer making contact with hers.

“I just…” He started and failed instantly, wanting to caress her cheek, embrace her to soothe her down but was too scared of startling her again. “What I want to say is that I care about us. I care about you more than I have ever cared about anyone else in my life.”

“I care about you too, Haechannie.” There was a quiver in her voice as if she was on the verge of crying. “I care so much about you.”

“Why does it feel to me like you’re about to contradict your own words?” There was no answer and the tension was so thick, it felt like he was suffocating. “I saw your reaction at that time when we were at the beach. I know how you wished parts of my confession were true and I’m telling you that all of it was—I meant every word I said that night.”

“Stop—”

“I love you, Noona,” he immediately said, before she took his chance in answering. “I really do, now more than ever. So if you still have feelings for me, please—”

“I don’t.”

Donghyuck’s jaw fell slacked on his face. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Haechannie. I’m sorry for leading you on, but I don’t. I don’t feel the same way.” She was looking everywhere but his eyes, her voice was clouded with emotions, becoming unclear as seconds went by. “I care about you and I do love you but only as a brother and a friend. I can’t give you more than that.”

He stood still in silence, clenching his jaws. “Can’t or won’t?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head frantically. “Look, we have soulmates for a reason. Even if we both give in and accept our feelings, what if it doesn’t work out?”

“I don’t care, I’m willing to try.”

“Well, I’m not. I care about our friendship too much. I don’t want anything to ruin what we have now. Especially after I meet my soulmate and you meet yours.”

Donghyuck could feel himself slowly withering away. “So you just want us to go back to how we were? After this?”

“Yes.” He didn’t have to see her to know she was spilling tears from her eyes. It was already spoken clear in her voice. “I-if that’s okay with you.”

And if he was much more mature, maybe he would’ve been able to let everything go. Maybe he would’ve been able to step forward and twist his fingers around the strands of her hair, cradling her gently in his arms and whisper, “Of course. I’ll always be here for you.” But that wouldn’t be him. And he was so tired of being someone else this whole time, trying to hide how he really felt for her.

So, underneath the darkness and the silence of the space that was hanging between them, he told her, “No, I don’t think we can go back to how we were.” And even as he watched her cry, covering the sobs that threatened to fall from her lips with her palm, he said, “I’m sick of pretending, Noona. So if I can’t have you that way, I don’t think I can be your friend and do nothing but sit there, watching you slip away into another man’s arms. I’m not as good of a person as you think I am. And as long as we’re both selfish with what we want—with you wanting to keep our friendship together and with me wanting you that way—this is as close as we can get.”

“What—” Her shoulders were shaking with every breath she took. “Why does it have to come to this—I—”

“Make your decision now.” His voice was loud and clear, making him surprised by how steady he sounded despite all the storms swirling in his chest. “Be with me or push me away. Your choice.”

Tears were spilling down her cheeks as her eyes grew wide, staring at him with parted lips but only whimpers could be heard. He knew how ruthless he was being, and he felt sorry for making her stand in this position.

So, with a heavy heart, he walked away.

***

Days passed by in silence, and they turned to weeks, and months, and when he finally had the bravery to reply to her words with sentences longer than, “I’m doing fine,” and “Sorry for the late response, I had things to do.” It was already several months after his graduation and he was moving out of the place he called home into his dormitory that stood hundreds of kilometers away from her place.

He was nineteen and she was twenty, and he had never loved anyone else while she was tangled deep in her lover’s arms.

And it was maybe his fault because he was the one who pushed her away. She’d asked him to take a day off college so they could fly back to their hometown and celebrate his birthday together but he declined, making random excuses that sounded like a train of lies to her ears but she took notice of his tone and forced out a laugh.

“Then maybe I’ll see you when my birthday comes up?”

“Sure.” But it wasn’t a promise. He thanked her for the present she gave him but ending his call shortly before she even asked about his day.

He sent her a birthday present—a book that she once loved to read as a child, but was thrown away by her mother by accident—and he received five missed calls from her and nine different texts, begging him to answer her calls but Donghyuck was busy burying his fingers deep inside his locks and yanking at the roots with one hand, and rubbing the unspilled tears from his eyes with his other one as he sat on the edge of his bed, swallowed by the darkness of his room.

And he began to fear the night when exhaustion would consume every part of his body and invisible hands began to press his eyelids down until he fell asleep and woke up in her memories. It was painful enough for him to not be able to see himself as often as he used to, and it was torture when Jaemin began to take his place, forcing Donghyuck to stand in the background and watch as he planted his lips on the pair that should’ve belonged to him. He had to hear her gasp Jaemin’s name between kisses, had to see her card her fingers through his sandy blonde hair, had to see her watching him with dazed eyes and swollen lips.

Donghyuck always willed himself to wake up and he found himself breathing hard when he did.

That night, another memory occurred and it was when she shared her first kiss with Mark. They were at her dorm, her roommate was away and she pulled him by the hand to walk deeper into her room. Mark seemed awkward, like how he always did, scanning the room and gulping as he noticed how the entire place smelled pleasantly like her.

“Coffee?” She offered, and he nodded. Taking a seat at the side of her bed, he played with his fingers, trying to hide the quiver that sparked in his fingertips. She joined him soon after with two cups of hot coffee on her hands, which he took with a grateful smile.

“Why do you look so nervous?” She questioned between small, shy giggles that wrenched Donghyuck’s heart from how much he missed hearing them.

“I’m not—it’s just—” Mark gulped, tapping his fingers anxiously against the cup. “It’s my first time being in a girl’s room.”

“Haven’t you dated anyone before?”

“I went on a few dates but nothing serious happened. And when I started seeing you in my dreams, I just stopped dating entirely.”

She was about to take a sip of her coffee but stopped mid-air, eyes unblinking. “You were waiting for me?”

He bashfully smiled. “M-maybe…”

Her eyes drooped down, a faint blush smearing her cheeks. She placed her cup down on her nightstand before she turned toward him again and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“What—” He sputtered, holding the side of his face, his round eyes turning even wider. “What was that for?”

But she didn’t reply. Instead, she leaned in for another kiss, and this time, he answered with his lips instead.

Donghyuck woke up with a pain in his chest, and he felt so sick, so disturbed, that he began to jump down his bed, startling his roommate who was deep in slumber. He snatched his jacket from the floor and closed the door behind him with a small thud. He needed to distract himself so he burst into the night air, not caring if the cold made his teeth chatter behind his lips.

***

His dreams, they became nightmares. And they didn’t stop even when he woke up. He was losing sleep and had the hardest time concentrating on everything. He was putting his best effort to move on, to forget about her existence entirely and he had been successfully avoiding her calls or her pleads to meet up every time a long holiday came up. But how could he forget about her when she kept showing up in his dreams, making him feel jealous, feel pained, with no way of stopping it?

It was a week before his birthday when his mother begged him to come home and celebrate it together with his whole family. Though he was reluctant to go, worrying that he’d probably see her on his way back, he eventually agreed to his mother’s wish. If they ended up meeting each other, maybe it was a sign for him to tell her about these dreams he’d been having of her and see how it would go from there.

It was raining, the third day he spent lounging on the bed in his room. It looked just about the same, but with fewer things and thicker specks of dust. And he kept his curtain closed, not wanting to look at the other side of his window.

A sudden ring of his iPhone sent jolts to his entire body.

It was from an unknown number. He usually wouldn’t respond to it, but there was something in his chest that told him to answer no matter what excuses he came up with.

He slid his thumb along the screen and pressed the phone to his ear, but he did not say a word, waiting for the other person to ignite the conversation.

“Haechannie. It’s me.”

He had a hunch who it was, but hearing the sound of her voice so close to his ear still almost sent him falling to his knees. The words I miss you, I’m sorry I’ve been trying to push you away, but I can’t pretend anymore, I miss you, I miss you so much, I’m going insane threatened to fall from his lips so he kept his mouth shut, not believing in himself just yet.

“I could tell how you wouldn’t pick up if you knew it was me, so I’m using a new number.”

“It’s…” He licked his lips, trying to tame his racing heart. “It’s been a while, Noona.”

“Don’t say that when you’ve been avoiding me for years, Lee Donghyuck. I know you’re home so let me in. It’s pouring outside.”

His grip tightened around his phone. “You’re… here?”

“Yes, idiot. Your mom told me last night that you’re here so I flew back the first thing in the morning to meet you. If you make one more excuse of not wanting to see me, I will literally climb up your wall and kick your window open myself, I swear to God.”

Donghyuck would’ve laughed because it was so her to say things like that whenever she got angry, but he was so overwhelmed with the thoughts of seeing her in person that he tripped over his own feet before he ran down the stairs.

The second he opened the front door and saw her standing on his porch, with her hair a little wet from the rain, all the air nearly left his lungs. She was still wearing her trench coat, a scarf around her neck with her suitcase stood idly next to her. He noticed that she must have returned straight back from the airport, not even spending a second resting in her own house when it was only a few steps away from where she stood.

“Can I come in?” She asked, trembling slightly from the cold. There was a huge urge to embrace her that he almost couldn’t control, to share his warmth and steal all the shivers away from her body. But he swallowed all of his feelings with a hard gulp, and stepped back to let her in with a small nod.

She closed the front door behind her, pressing her spine against it and they both waited in the silence of his house, expecting the other to strike a conversation but neither of them had the bravery to find a word. The ticking sound of the grandmother’s clock in his guest room was loud, matching the thundering sound of his heartbeat.

“Where are your family?” She eventually uttered, peeking at him from behind her bangs.

“Visiting my cousins outside of town.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?”

“Just didn’t feel like going so I told them I was sick.”

“I see…”

And silence struck again. It was so tense, the awkwardness between them and it was beginning to suffocate him. “Noona, I think—”

“Can I hug you?” She spoke in such a quiet voice, but it sent powerful vibrations down his spine. He was busy gawking at her, not sure how to respond and it didn’t matter, because she already took a few steps toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and sinking her face deep into the crook of his neck.

Donghyuck let out a shaky breath, his arms still dangling weakly on his sides.

“Seems like you’ve lost some weight,” she spoke in whispers, her breath felt like fire on his skin. “Have you been eating well?”

It was hard trying to focus on her voice when the sound of his heart clamoring inside his ribcages was deafening in his ears. He only hummed in response, moving his hands slightly until they rested on the sides of her waist, tense and awkward.

“I really,” she breathed, her voice quivering. “Really miss you, Haechannie.”

It was all too much for him to bear, too many flashbacks, uncontrolled feelings, and hidden emotions washed over him at the same time, making him feel dizzy and emotive. So instead, he focused on what mattered the most. “You’re shivering. We should get you changed.” And he pulled away before she could reply. Noticing how the loss of their warmth on each other’s skin was as painful for her as it was to him, he offered his hand with a timid smile, which she immediately laced together with hers.

He guided her to his room and released her hand to rummage the inside of his closet, trying to find that particular sweater of his that she grew to be fond of. She slid open his curtain to brighten the room though it didn’t do much because the clouds were dark and thick, pouring heavy rain to the earth.

“Here,” he said, handing her his navy blue knitted sweater. “I’ll go outside so you can change.”

She grabbed him by his wrist before he stepped aside. “No, it’s fine, just—” She cleared her throat, didn’t dare to look him in the eyes. “Just turn around for a little bit.”

The old Donghyuck would’ve had a blast teasing her about this, so when he simply turned around, bringing his head down to stare at his feet while scratching his nape from being both shy and awkward, the feeling of loneliness began to consume her heart.

She was losing him. He wasn’t the person she remembered him to be.

“I’m done,” she called when she had finished changing her damp blouse into his sweater. The fabric fell loose around her body, its hem reaching to the middle part of her jean-clad thighs. “You can turn around now.”

Donghyuck slowly turned on his heels, but his eyes were looking everywhere but hers because he knew, once he saw her again wearing his clothing around her body like a lover would, he would lose his common sense.

“It feels familiar, doesn’t it?” She lightly laughed, trying to keep it casual but it felt strained. “I mean, us spending time in your room with me wearing your clothes.”

He tiredly smiled, leaning against the wall. “Yeah.”

“How was your birthday yesterday? I’m sorry for not sending you any present, I wasn’t sure you wanted to receive one from me... Did auntie make you a cake?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t good.”

She tucked a loose strand of her hair, wetting her lips. “You always said that, but you ate all of it.”

He wanted to sneak a glance at her, wanted to be captivated by her beauty just for a split second, but noticing it was best for him to stop. Otherwise, she’d entrap him again. “Yeah… I did.”

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“Can you look at me, please?”

He tightened his jaw, taking a few seconds in silence to prepare himself before he slowly looked up, peering at her features from behind his bangs.

He had seen her sad before—multiple times, in fact—but it was never like this. She never looked this heartbroken before, and he loathed the fact that, unlike any other times where she cried over anyone else, he was now the reason for such emotion to arise.

And maybe he looked the same to her, as she instantly grew speechless, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sweater. “How… are you?” She asked, and he knew that wasn’t the question she intended to say but maybe she was afraid and uncertain whether her words would inflict more sadness to his eyes more than she already did so far.

“I’m doing well.”

“Have you made any friends at your campus?”

“A few.”

“Ah… Great, then.” She was going insane, she could feel it, and when he never tried to spark a conversation like she did, she began to lose her patience. “Why have you been avoiding me?” Her tone somehow a tad colder this time around.

Donghyuck slipped his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You ignored my calls, you rarely replied to my texts—”

“Yeah, well, I was busy—”

“Two years, Haechannie. You had two fucking years to reach out back to me, and you’re simply telling me you were busy?! If you’re going to lie, lie better!”

“Well, you already have your whole life perfect without me anyway.”

Hot tears began to well in her eyes. “Do you not… need me anymore?”

He looked away, his chest suffocating. “You should leave. Get some rest. We’ll talk la—”

“Stop it!” She cried out, forcing him to look at her in the eyes by the desperate tone in her voice. “Stop acting like this! Stop pretending like you’re not hurting when you are just as much as I am!”

His eyes gleamed in the dim lighting of the room. “Why are you even here?”

She narrowed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain that was about to erupt from her chest. “Is it so wrong for me to see you?”

“I thought we’ve both decided that it’s best if we stay away from each other.”

“You decided.” It was both sorrow and anger that painted her voice. “You decided to stay away from me. I never wanted us to be like this. I’ve been trying to reach out to you and you pushed me away every time, so don’t you dare blame this on me.”

“What do you expect me to do?” He vocalized in outrage, his voice reverberating through the air almost as heavy as the storm that poured outside. “I revealed all of my feelings out to you, asked you to make a choice and you just stood there doing��fucking nothing! How do you think that made me feel?”

She stepped back, her hand on her chest. “I—” She fumbled with her words. “It was all so sudden, I didn’t know how—”

“So sudden?!” He threw his head back in exasperation. “I have been trying to tell you that for years, Noona!”

“You flirted with me for years, that didn’t count as—”

“Well, I had to pretend everything was a joke because you always looked like you were seconds away from crying, afraid of ruining our friendship and it made me think that maybe you never really liked me that way at all! I don’t even know how you feel about me now because you’re never honest even with yourself.”

“I…” She nibbled on her lower lip, scared and anxious. “I don’t know whether I—”

“Of course, you don’t,” he spat out, scoffing loudly. “You never do. That’s what I fucking hate about you. You’re such a coward. You don’t want to be with me but you keep coming back to me, making me feel things I shouldn’t, making me yearn for you again when I literally spent every second of my life trying to forget you even exist. I had to watch you slip away from my arms twice as if it wasn’t enough for you to hurt me one time—”

“I never meant to hurt you—”

“But that’s all you fucking do!” Donghyuck unintentionally slammed the side of his fist against the wall out of sheer fury, making her take a step backward, terrified. “Do you know how much you’re driving me insane from seeing you here within my grasp but not having the right to touch you in the way I want to? Just how fucking selfish can you be?!”

Tears were forming in her eyes, but he wasn’t sure whether they emerged from sadness or anger. “I’m selfish?! I’m trying to do the right thing! You know how things can go bad if we ignore the signs and deny our soulmate, so even if I agree to be with you, what if things don’t work out and we end up—”

“I’m so fucking tired of soulmates.”

Donghyuck had her body pressed against the wall, his hand on her face and his lips on hers, meeting together in a heated kiss. She closed her eyes in reflex, her fingers clutching tightly to the fabric of his shirt, gasping into his mouth when he pressed harder. Donghyuck felt like a flame, scorching every inch of her skin that was connected to his and she let herself grow weak, succumbing to the fire that was about to devour her whole.

When he let go, the tip of his nose was still grazing against hers, his fingertips holding her by the jaw, while his other hand was secured tightly around her waist.

“I’m giving you another chance to make your decision.” He breathed out, hot breath caressing her skin. “Be with me or push me away. Your choice.”

Her eyes were half-lidded, her breathing ragged and Donghyuck could count her eyelashes if he wanted to. It was torture to keep this little space between them because to him, they were like magnets, both desperately drawn to each other, wanting to consume one another.

Maybe it was like that for her too, because when she took her next breath, she had her fingers around the collar of his shirt, tugging it down so their lips met once again in a searing kiss.

It felt complete—no, it felt more than complete. It made him feel infinite. Every touch, every gasp, every little whimper that came out of her mouth made him feel alive and he wanted more, he wanted everything. He wanted her.

And to her, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and it didn’t feel like she was doing something sinful, something forbidden. Everything felt right, the way her body fit his perfectly, the way he moved his lips against her, with the touch of their tongues nearly sending her down to her knees.

“Haechannie,” she breathed heavily as he ran his lips down her jaw to her neck, before he moved back up again, melding their lips together because he couldn’t waste any second longer being apart from her.

The desperate call of his name rendered him powerless so he pressed himself against her harder, embracing her better so they could hold on to each other. And by the relieved sigh she made as she circled her arms around his neck, her fingers finding a home in his hair, she must have felt the same.

“I love you,” he murmured against the supple skin of her neck, making a messy ponytail out of her hair to expose more skin. “Fuck, Noona, I’ve never loved anyone else but you.” He lifted her body up the wall, leaving her with no choice but to tangle her legs around his waist for balance, his hands sliding dangerously along her thighs as she connected their mouths again.

Donghyuck’s voice was deep and hoarse, foreign to her ears but she loved it. She loved everything new she found about him, as much as she had loved everything about him in the past. She knew she wasn’t being fair; she knew it wasn’t a good idea to hold him like this, but it felt so terrifyingly good and there was not a part of her mind and body that shouted for her to stop. He was her puppet master, plucking on her strings, and she didn’t mind being tangled under his fingers.

She flinched when she felt him pressing his hips against her, pinning her against the wall and he noticed as she moaned a bit louder against his mouth, pulling a similar groan from the back of his own throat. The sound of her lustful cry made him go absolutely insane and not familiar with his own strength, he carried her to the bed, making her yelp in shock and wrapping her legs and arms around him tighter in the fear of falling.

But the way he laid her down on his bed was surprisingly gentle, sliding down a pillow underneath her head before he dipped his face down, pressing a warm kiss on her temple. The sudden change of pace made her blush, cheeks blooming red as she became conscious of how he gazed at her features—how the previous loneliness in his eyes was replaced with both felicity and uncertainty, asking for her sign to stop or continue with everything.

She swallowed her breath when he stood on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head, his silver necklace glinting faintly under the soft glow of thunder that flashed on the other side of the window. She flinched, not from the fear of lightning, but from the way his vulnerable eyes were filled with need and affection. She had once told him that Jaemin made her feel wanted—made her feel desired—and she thought that was really the case, until she saw the look Donghyuck gave her and suddenly everything that Jaemin did felt pale in comparison.

Donghyuck needed her like a drowning man needed air.

So when he bent down and kissed her again, she felt like he was unraveling her soul, stripping her naked both her body and her mind, and as if she was a blank canvas, he cast iridescence on her skin, drawing lines with his fingertips and painted a spectrum of colors with his lips.

As a man of passion, Donghyuck’s kisses were strangely tender but it elicited as much fire, if not more, as any fervent kisses she had ever shared with the other two men in her life.

“Noona,” he abruptly stopped, eyes unfocused as he broke away, expanding the space between them but only for a few inches. “You’re not regretting any of this, are you?” It was the question he’d been dreading to ask, but he had to before she ended up living with guilt. “I told you to make a choice before but…” He cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb against her skin in such a soothing manner that she would’ve probably fallen asleep to it if her heart wasn’t racing like this. “But if you feel like this is not what you want, you can back out anytime. I’m not going to force you, and I’m not going to leave you even if you push me away now. I’ll still be your friend, I promise, so it’s okay.” He smiled but the only thing it conveyed was sadness. “It’s okay if you want to put an end to this. It’s okay if you don’t want to be with me. It’s your choice.”

She wasn’t sure why, but she felt like crying. “Well, I’m not okay with it.” She ran her thumb along his lower lip, in a paper-thin-like touch. “I think you’ve noticed by now that I…” It was too much. It really was too much for her to admit it without being flustered.

“Tell me,” he pleaded, gently taking her wrist when she was about to cover her face with her hands. “Tell me how you feel about me. Please.”

She shook her head, heart thumping loudly. “I can’t—It’s embarrassing. You already know how I feel anyway.”

“But I need to hear you say it.” He kissed her palm, leaning against her touch like how a little kitten would. “Please?”

Her voice was quivering when she spoke. “I love you, Haechannie.”

He’d heard her say those words many times in his life, but only now, they felt different in his ears. And almost like a prisoner being released from his chains, he nearly whimpered in bliss. “Y-you do?”

She shakily nodded her head once. “You were right. I’m a coward. I’m too afraid of losing what we have, not realizing that we can actually become so much more.”

He smiled, small but lovingly. “And it’s fine even if I’m not your soulmate?”

She was entranced with the way he kissed her fingertips one by one. “I don’t care.”

“I love you too, Noona.” His tongue was wet and slick when she felt it against her earlobe, his voice sounding dangerously close and sultry, even when his words were innocent. “You don’t know how glad I am to finally hear you say this. I’ve tried so hard to move on but I couldn’t. It’s just—for me—” his lips hovered above hers again, and she felt his whispers directly on her skin. “There’s no life without you.”

She carded her fingers through his hair, pushing back his bangs until she could gaze directly into his eyes. “There’s no life without you too, Haechannie.”

As they were connected, both their bodies and minds, it felt like nothing mattered anymore. They already had what they needed, already owned what they craved, already found what they were searching for. Donghyuck was sheathed deep inside her, his kisses were wet and languid, passion never dissipating no matter how many times he had tasted her.

It never felt unnatural, never felt awkward, and there were no uncertainties whenever their skin made contact. It was almost as natural as breathing, and though they needed more experience in some parts, they were already content with everything that they shared. Every breath, every gasp, every moan was sending heat to every inch of their bodies, making Donghyuck’s bangs stick with sweat and her cheeks reddening from his feverish touches.

When it finally ended, both still feeling lightheaded from reaching their highs, orgasms hitting hard like waves in a storm, Donghyuck was shaking, murmuring both expletives and praises against the skin that covered her heart, making her shiver.

“What is it?” She questioned tenderly, gentle fingertips caressing his cheekbone. “You’re trembling.”

But he didn’t answer, laying his head down on her chest, her heartbeat vocalizing faintly against his eardrums. He had never felt so happy, so complete, so perfect, and it was all because of her.

“I’m…” he exhaled heavily, lost for words as he sank deeper in his own elation. She curled her fingers around his jaw, lifting his face so they could peer into each other’s eyes.

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I know it’s late, but…” She beamed at him. “Happy birthday.”

And he kissed her with so much fervor, his eyebrows adjoined in passion and he whimpered against her mouth, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye and she smiled, hugging him close because finally, after seventeen years had passed, they truly found each other.

He was her life, and she was his, two different souls united into one.

***

Almost an hour passed by with them just enjoying each other’s company as they laid side-by-side on the bed, with Donghyuck idly sucking more bruises to her skin and her panting his name against his pillow. He was trailing his fingertips from her nape down to the dip of her spine as she laid with her stomach pressed against his sheets, slightly quivering from his touch.

Both of them lacked the energy to get dressed or wash their sweat away from before, and instead just dwell further in each other’s warmth, basking in the soft glow of the sunset that had replaced the storm.

“Why did we wait so long to do this?” She asked with her cheek pressed against the pillow, looking at him with drowsy eyes.

He snorted. “Because you were too big of an idiot to notice and too goddamn stubborn to—”

“Forget I asked.”

Donghyuck grinned to himself but she soon felt it on her skin. “I’m still sweaty, Haechannie, get off me.”

“No way, I want to enjoy this,” his nose was skimming against the skin of her back. “It’s not every day I have a naked lady lounging on my bed. In fact, I’ve never had one. Ever.”

“Yeah?” She turned around, covering her bare chest with his quilt as she looked at him. “What about your girlfriends?”

“What girlfriends?”

“You know, the ones you got together with in high school. You told me you had sex with them.”

“Oh.” His playful smile grew sheepish. “I lied about it.”

“What? Why?”

“I was just trying to make you jealous. You were hanging out with Jaemin and I was so pissed!”

“I can’t believe how lame you were.”

“Hey, I was desperate!”

“So…” She slowly said, drawing her name on the square of his chest with her fingertip. “I’m your first?”

“You’ve always been, on everything.”

Her breathing tattered, blood rushing to her face, turning it scarlet. She moved her hand to his neck, playing with the silver necklace and the oval locket with her fingers. “I can’t believe you still wear this.”

“It’s the best present I’ve ever had,” he replied, leaning close until their foreheads meet one another. “From the best girl I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Stop saying things like this, I can’t handle it.” And she hooked her finger around his necklace, dragging him down to close the gap between them.

They both smiled into the kiss but what was once innocent and chaste, became deep and ardent in a matter of seconds. Donghyuck’s fingers were slipping underneath the comforter that she used to cover her body, feverish skin meeting her cold one and he looked at her in concern. “Are you cold?”

“Just a little bit.” She chuckled awkwardly before it was replaced with a gasp when he pulled her up by her waist and positioned her on his lap. He snatched the quilt away from her in one quick motion, leaving her naked and exposed before she toppled down to his chest. His hands found their way back around her waist, drawing her close so every inch of her skin was pressing against his. His warmth began to seep into her, and he draped his blanket around their bodies again.

“Better?” He looked up, his teeth peeking behind his grin that was both teasing and shy at the same time.

She melted into his touch, wanting to taste his lips again. “Better.”

She was distracted with the way he ran his tongue along her lower lip, sneaking in as soon as she granted him entrance to her mouth, but found her focus back when his hands start to roam around her chest. She immediately covered herself with both hands, embarrassed out of her mind.

“Why are you covering yourself?” He asked, chuckling faintly though his cheeks were reddening by the second. “You were fine when we had sex before. Let me see.”

“I just remembered that you once said I have small boobs.”

Donghyuck’s jaw hung loosely on his face. “That—I was just joking! I love your boobs—I love every—” He thought hard for the right word and failing miserably. “—every aspect of them, how soft they are, the little moles you have, and how they jiggle when—Why are you laughing?!”

But she couldn’t stop cackling even when he was pouting about it, complaining that he was being serious. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping a tear out of her eyes. “It’s just you were so dominatingly sexy before when you slammed me against the wall, and now you’re acting like such a dork, which is also cute but—” and she laughed again, covering her mouth with her fingers which he immediately took and replaced them with his mouth, turning her soft chuckles into pleading moans.

He cupped her breasts with his palms, groaning at the back of his throat from how perfect they felt under his hands, massaging them gently until she had to break away from the kiss, nibbling at her lip to contain her whimpers.

Donghyuck trailed more kisses down from her neck to the valley of her breasts, before he attached his soft, plump lips on her sensitive nub, making her arch her back in response. He peeked at her reaction from under his eyelashes, almost losing his mind from the sight of how alluring and sinful she looked. “Does it feel good?” He knew the answer but he needed her praise. He had waited for all this time to have her crying out his name in pleasure like this, he guessed he’d allow himself to be selfish just for tonight.

She shakily nodded, eyes tightly shut in pleasure but he didn’t stop until he had her whimpering, “Yes, yes,” into his ears.

“So about what you said before,” he continued, nipping at her sensitive skin with so much fervency, enough to leave purple bruises by the morning. “About me being dominatingly sexy. Is that the kind of thing you’re into?”

She shivered, looking like she wanted to escape his touch. “I—I don’t—” she stammered, having the hardest time finding her words especially when he had one of his eyebrows raised tauntingly. “Stop teasing me.”

“Guess being friends for seventeen years doesn’t really mean you know everything.” He chuckled, sliding down his hand between her thighs but stopping before he got too close, asking for permission. “Can I touch you here?”

She bit her lip, nodding slowly.

“Can we… have sex again?”

“Stop asking questions, and just do it.”

Their second time was much slower, more playful with a lot of teasing and exploring and it was the kind of sex that felt more like them, reminding them of how carefree they were back in their childhoods days, or the flirty banter they shared during their small escapes every summer. It took them hours to be satisfied with one another, at least until the next day started, that by the time they were finished, it was already nighttime. But even after they were dressed back in their previous clothes, they still found their way back in each other’s arms.

“I wasn’t sure to ask about this before but,” Donghyuck snuggled closer from behind, his lips almost brushing against her nape when he spoke in both curiosity and uncertainty. “How are things with Mark?”

“It’s so like you to ask about stuff that mattered after you got what you want,” she responded, making him pout and cower behind her. “We’re still going strong, actually. He said he’d ask me to marry him after we both graduated from college.”

He froze, literally stopped breathing. “What?”

“I’m kidding.” She turned around, tapping his cheek. “You’re cute.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry.” And when she laughed, he pouted even harder. “Well, truth is, we broke up over a month ago.”

“What—” Shock filling his eyes. He thought he had known everything about her from seeing her memories in his dreams but maybe he hadn’t seen anything yet. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t aware we were on speaking terms what with you avoiding my calls and ignoring my texts.”

“You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” He sighed, playfully biting her at the part where her neck met her shoulder. “Why did you break up with him anyway? I thought soulmates were meant to be together, not that I’m complaining though.” He couldn’t help but display his cheeky grin. “I’m actually happy—it’s the happiest moment in my life, dare I say.”

She scoffed, shifting on the bed again so she wouldn’t have to face his annoying grin. “It certainly not the happiest moment in my life but as long as you’re happy, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, come here.” Donghyuck sneaked his hands around her body, hauling her toward him until he could press his chest tightly against her back, burying his nose in her hair. “So, what happened?”

“Well…” She huffed, leaning against him. “Mark and I… We’re so similar in a lot of ways and I find myself more compatible with him than anyone, which feels kinda weird, if I’m being honest. Like, we share the same thoughts, we make the same decisions, we listen to the same music, love the same movies and everything. Unlike when I’m with you—” she stopped when she felt his arms tightening around her. “Wait, before you start fuming, listen to me first.” He sighed but nodded his head twice before he landed his face on her hair again. “What I meant was when I’m with you, we argue, we tease each other, we fight over stupid little things so we can look back on it in the future and have a good laugh from realizing how dumb we were being. And that’s what makes it exciting for me. You make me laugh, you make me upset, and when you suddenly disappeared from my life it was like…” she tried, but whether she was too shy or too confused to say the words, Donghyuck wasn’t sure so he helped.

“Like a part of you was missing?” He offered with a smile, nuzzling closer to her.

“Well, I don’t want to sound that cheesy but for the lack of better words, yes,” she admitted. “I just really couldn’t stop thinking about you. I missed you in the way I’ve never missed anyone before, like I kept seeing you anywhere I go. Whenever a Michael Jackson song came up in my playlist, I thought of you. Whenever I saw a movie, I remembered how you would always scrunch your nose in protest when something didn’t make sense. And I felt awful every time because I wasn’t supposed to think about you at all. I was supposed to think about Mark, and how he always tried to make me feel comfortable in his arms, kept asking me whether the room temperature was too cold or too hot, whether I needed another cup of coffee or—”

“He actually sounds pretty nice,” he murmured against her skin. “I’d date him if I were you.”

“Exactly, he’s too perfect.” She turned around, placing both hands on his shoulders. “He’s too perfect, Haechannie. That’s my problem.”

Haechan snorted but he also seemed amused. “This is why boys have problems trying to understand girls.”

“Doesn’t it make sense, though? You have so many flaws—like, so many. You have more flaws in you than your strengths.”

He flatly stared back. “Thanks.”

“But that’s what makes you interesting.” She reached out a hand, playing with the waves of his hair. “That’s what makes you adorable.” When she noticed him turning slightly red on his cheeks, she chuckled awkwardly. “Or maybe I’m just a freak who has a kink for annoying brats, I don’t know.”

Donghyuck smiled softly in return, rubbing his thumb in comforting circles on the skin below her eye. “Well then, I’m glad you have a kink for annoying brats like me.” And when they kissed, he could feel her grinning against his lips so he tore himself away, frowning. “What?”

“I didn’t realize you were this sappy and clingy.” She giggled, pecking his nose. “You really love kissing, don’t you?”

“I love kissing you,” he corrected, slightly wincing at the thought of the previous kisses he’d shared with his former girlfriends. “There’s a difference. And I’m not sappy, I am full with affection.” She teased him with a loud, exaggerated yawn but he ignored her, focusing on the things that hadn’t been spoken. “So, you broke up with him because he was too nice? How did you even tell that to him?”

“No.” Her tone suddenly became heavy. “We broke up because he no longer had faith in me. It was not long after he read my journal.”

“What journal?”

“Okay, now, don’t laugh, but I’ve been keeping a journal lately to help me think and…” He couldn’t see her face, but he could tell she was flushed. “Well, figure things out. So I wrote a lot of things about you, about us, about how I truly felt about you but couldn’t be with you because of the things we’ve been through. And the fact that I’ve been dreaming about you—”

“What?” His breath hitched in his throat. “Like a soulmate dream or just your regular wet dream about me?”

It was vexing the way he sounded so serious when he asked her the most insensitive question at times like this. “It felt similar to how I dreamt about Mark which is weird because how can that be? What does that even mean? I can’t have two soulmates at once, can I?”

Donghyuck contemplated in silence, unsure of his thoughts but eventually made his decision. “Okay,” he shifted his weight, now sitting on the bed, and gesturing for her to meet his eyes. “I have a secret I’ve been wanting to tell you but since we weren’t on speaking terms—”

“Thanks to you—”

“—yeah, thanks to me. I decided to keep it a secret. And I realized that I didn’t want to tell you that because I wanted you to figure out by yourself that you have feelings for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been having dreams about you too.” He unconsciously reached out for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I saw your memories. I knew that they weren’t mine because I’ve dreamt about the time you spent with Jaemin and Mark, but I didn’t say anything because I want you to fall for me for who I am, not because I have connections to your dreams or because it turns out I’m your soulmate.”

She gaped in disbelief. “How long have you been dreaming about me?”

His voice grew quiet. “Since that night when we kissed.”

Her mouth was shaping into a silent ‘o’ but no words came out. She was deep in her thoughts and Donghyuck had to squeeze her hand to bring her out of her reverie. “Noona?”

“So it wasn’t just because of the kiss, was it? That morning when you were acting weird, asking me about my feelings?”

He nodded reluctantly. “I thought you were experiencing the same thing, but then you told me you had another dream about Mark, and not soon after, I saw him with my own eyes.”

Something befell on her face, eyes wide in realization. “So, it was true—what I saw in my dream. You’d met Mark way before I did but you never told me about him—you even told him to stay away—”

“Yes, but—” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I know that was a total dick move, but—”

“You had no right, Hyuck.”

The way she called him by his real name made him freeze for a split second. “You’re… really upset about this, aren’t you?”

She tried not to scowl at him harder than she already did. With a sigh, she massaged her temple. “Well, I guess I should’ve seen that coming. You’ve always been acting like that anyway. You and your possessive, competitive ass.”

“But,” he said, smiling bashfully. “Will you love me and my possessive, competitive ass for the rest of your life?”

“One step at a time, Haechannie.” She pressed her palm against his face, wiping his annoying smirk away. “One step at a time.”

***

Unbeknownst to them, it turned out that being in an intimate relationship didn’t really change the way they behave around each other. They still fought over the little things but always agreed on the things that mattered. They shared loving words as much as they had done numerous times in the past, only this time they shared them between lustful gasps and lascivious groans.

Their long-distance relationship was hard during their years in college as they went to different campuses in different cities, but only because they couldn’t feel each other’s lips and breaths on their skins, so every time a long holiday came up, they would spend it somewhere where they could be alone, tangled in each other’s arms, moaning terms of endearments laced with desperation and urgency against the sheets.

It was funny how they kept having dreams about each other’s memories, even after they admitted their feelings out loud. Every morning whenever they were apart, they would send text messages, describing the memories they saw in their dreams, that it became some kind of a new habit for them. It was harmless most of the time, but Donghyuck became unreasonably jealous more often than not, whenever he saw Jaemin or Mark in her memories. He would spout out hateful words, calling their names with degradation, and she would sigh and wave him off, being the mature one in the relationship.

She had a theory about why he was dreaming about her, and why did her dreams change from Mark’s memories into his. She said it had something to do with their feelings, that if they loved someone so dearly, their dreams began to change from seeing the soulmate they were originally matched with, to the person they truly loved. And if the feelings were mutual, they would begin to dream about each other. Donghyuck didn’t pay too much attention to it, because it didn’t matter to him. Soulmates or not, dreams or no dream, he’d still love her with all his heart.

They kept their relationship a secret because they knew how their parents believed in soulmates and didn’t want to make them worry. But whenever they had sleepovers in his house, leaving their bedroom door open as instructed, keeping secrets became torture because Donghyuck always found a way to pepper playful kisses on her cheek. And playful kisses always turned perilous when they fell on her lips, and once the tip of their tongues met in curiosity, just wanted to get a glimpse of each other’s taste, there would be no turning back.

So they exchanged deep kisses and sinful strokes under the duvet, closing their eyes shut and pretending to sleep whenever rustling sounds or footsteps could be heard from the other side of their slightly ajar door. Donghyuck would whine something about, “Noona, I can’t do this. I can’t come like this,” even though he grew hotter and larger in her hand, and she would raise a teasing eyebrow with a smirk painting her face. She would then sneak under the sheet, crawl down his body, and blow hot breath against his tip, before engulfing him completely. And Donghyuck would bite into his fist, eyebrows furrowing in ecstasy, eyes shut closed as he imagined the way she would hollow her cheeks around him, with her tongue running along his veins and he would come undone in seconds. “Already?” She would ask with a teasing grin, wiping her tainted mouth with the back of her hand. “I must be super good at this.”

Donghyuck would let her win, just for the night. He could always pay her back the next day, he figured, when his parents were still deep in slumber, and the sun was still hiding somewhere out of sight. He knew how much she loved seeing him between her legs, with his eyes half-lidded and his lips sucking bruises on the inner parts of her thighs. And he loved seeing her face contorted in pleasure every time he brought her tongue deep inside her, remembering her taste better than anything he had ever tasted. Whenever her body started to shake, hands tangling desperately against his locks, her legs closing in on him, he would lick everything that seeped out of her, glance up to meet her eyes, and lick his lower lip in satisfaction before he said, “Already? I must be super good at this.”

“You know,” she sighed one day when she curled against his chest in a hotel room that smelled like cinnamon mixed with sandalwood. “I’ll probably end up getting pregnant with Hyuck Jr from how often we have sex.”

“I don’t mind.” He laced their fingers together, tracing his tongue on the side of her neck before he marked her with his teeth. “Hyuck Jr sounds hella cool.”

“Of course, you don’t mind. You say that to get more sex.” She wiggled away, shoving him gently by the jaw. “Stop that, I have work today.” And as much as he wanted to ignore her, painting more of his signature down her body so everyone would know who owned her, he stopped with a pout because she could really be terrifying when she got angry.

“Noona~ Come back to bed,” he whined, as he watched her stepped down the bed, getting dressed. “I need you to love me again. I’m needy.”

“You are gross, and I am late. Where the hell is my bra?”

Donghyuck grinned in amusement, watching her running from one corner to another only in her panties. “Man, have I told you how much I love your boobs?”

“Stop staring and help me find my clothes!”

She soon collected every piece of her clothing back without his help as he just kept lazing around on the bed, giggling every time she tripped over something.

“Noona.”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever thought about being this intimate with me back then?” Donghyuck flipped over to his stomach, crossing his arms idly on top of his pillow before he dipped his chin between them. “Before we got together. Have you ever thought about kissing me?”

Her cheeks were flushed. “W-what kind of question is—”

“I need to know whether you were as crazy as I was about you.” His smile was both teasing and gentle. “Please?”

“Fine.” She eventually succumbed with a sigh. “Remember back then when you said you were going on a date with that girl you’d been seeing for two weeks? Not sure why, but when I thought about you kissing her, I was also thinking about you kissing me.”

“You did?” He gaped, mouth wide open. “Way back then? And you still went out with those douchebags instead of being with me?” He protested, sinking his face in his pillow as he muffled his whine. “Noonaaaa~”

“It was just a fleeting thought! It wasn’t anything that serious.” She put on her stockings, having the hardest time focusing from all the embarrassment she had to endure. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, now that I know you’ve been thinking about me that way for quite some time, what kind of things did you imagine us doing?” And when he didn’t answer right away, lost for words, she added with a sly smirk. “Don’t tell me you jacked off while thinking about me.”

He was good at controlling his expressions, but his ears betrayed him right away from how red they were turning. “No comment,” he muttered, sinking half of his face into his pillow.

She rolled her eyes, snorting. “Well, that’s fair.”

“What about the future? Have you ever thought about our future together?” The sudden question made her gaze back at him. “What do you see happening to us in ten years?”

She was fiddling with the buttons of her blouse, but her mind drifted somewhere else. She had thought about it. Thought about growing old with him. Thought about them getting married, have a child—or maybe three. Thought about how nervous and panicky he would get when her water broke, and how whiny he would be whenever she asked him to do house chores but ended up doing everything perfectly. She had thought about how cute he’d look as a father, telling a little boy—who looked exactly like him—during his first try at riding a bicycle that it’s okay to cry if it hurts when you fall because daddy is going to hug you and make the pain go away, okay?

She had thought about it, more often than not, but he had just graduated from college and she was in her first year working as an intern in a high-tech company. They still had a lot of things going on in their lives. Maybe he wasn’t ready to settle down yet. Maybe he needed time.

“Babe?” He called. “You’ve been quiet for a while.”

“You want an honest answer?”

“Yes, please.”

“I see you growing bald from all of those hair products you use.”

“Why you little—”

***

“What’s this?” She questioned as he slid a little black box with a red bow wrapped around it—a spitting image of the gift she had presented to him a few years back—into her hand. She remembered the joke he made that night, so she mirrored his action, faking a gasp while squealing, “No way, you’re proposing to me? But honey, I’m already carrying your child!”

He laughed, a bit bashful and awkward, but he understood her joke. “But wait, if you’re seriously carrying my child, I will hate you for the rest of my life for breaking the news like this.”

“I’m not, calm down.” She chuckled, and they walked next to each other again, enjoying how peaceful the Han River was at night, with cherry blossoms petals dancing in the wind.

“Are you cold?” He asked though she was already wearing multi-layered clothes.

“What, are you gonna wrap your coat around me?”

“Nah, just asking. I’m more sensitive to cold than you anyway.”

“Thanks.” She rolled her eyes before she focused back on the tiny present. “What is this for? Our anniversary is still a month away.”

“Just shut up and open it.” He sniffed from the cold, tucking his hands deeper inside his coat. “And hurry up. I’m freezing. I need you to warm me up.”

“I swear to God, can’t you at least be romantic for five minutes?”

“Okay, five minutes. After that, we’ll run back home and have hot, dirty sex.”

She scowled at him which he returned wholeheartedly with a playful kiss on her cheek. She opened the box and smiled when she saw a similar oval locket necklace that matched the one he wore around his neck. “You’re so predictable,” she sneered, taking the necklace in her hand. “But I love it.”

“You haven’t seen what’s inside.” He whispered close in her ear. “I’ll give you a little spoiler. It’s not a picture of us taking a bath together when we were kids but it’s something similar.”

“Ah, I get it. Is it the time when we—” But her sentence ended abruptly in silence at the sight of the words that were engraved on the silver plate.

Will you marry me?

“Haechannie—” And as she turned around to face him, he already had one knee on the ground, taking her hand in his and she could feel shivers running through his fingertips. The soft glow of the streetlight illuminated his face most beautifully, with his bangs fluttering softly under the wind. His chocolate brown eyes were so gentle, so loving, so shy, matching the way his cheeks were reddening with more seconds passing by. When he pronounced her name, it felt like he was casting spells on her, bewitching her with his smile, his voice, his scent, his everything.

“Okay, so I’ve written a whole speech—like, a whole speech,” he repeated, emphasizing with a deeper voice. “And it would probably take me a good half an hour to recite it to you and I don’t think either of us wants to stand here for even a minute longer, so if you can just say yes now, I’ll do the speech later when we’re warm and cozy and naked in our bed.”

She was prepared to cry in joy but she ended up crying from the hilarity of it all. “What the hell was that? Haechannie—”

“I’m serious, Noona, a whole speech!” His teeth were beginning to chatter. “Trust me! Can you just accept my stupid proposal now so we can go home?”

“What is this, a blackmail?”

“Noona~”

She hauled him up to his feet again with both hands. “Well then, let’s go home,” she said, sinking their intertwined hands in her coat’s pocket before she tugged him forward. “If you amaze me with that whole speech of yours, then I’ll say yes.”

Donghyuck grinned. “You got it.”

He kept his promise from the beginning to the end. As they stepped into the little apartment they had been sharing in secret for the last few months, Donghyuck had her pressed against the wall, kicking the front door closed with one foot, before he moved it to slide his knee between her thighs, giving her the friction she needed. Clothes were soon scattered on the floor as they walked and tripped their way to the bedroom, silently shouting gratitudes to the heater that kept the place warm while they were gone.

“So,” she breathed against his mouth, pressing her bare chest to his slightly colder one. “Your speech. Go.”

“In a minute,” he said, smirking as he gestured her to sit on the edge of the bed. When she followed, he kneeled in front of her, spread her legs apart, and licked his lower lip as he stared at her arousal. He pushed his bangs out of his eyes, saying, “I have my priorities and this. comes. first,” and he dipped his head low, hot tongue pressing against her most sensitive part, forcing her to chant his name like a prayer.

But when their feet were tangled around one another on the bed, her hands buried deep in his hair while he raked his fingernails down her spine, Donghyuck murmured the things she didn’t realize she needed to hear. He reminded her of the precious memories they had shared, of the feelings they had even back then when they were too young to understand love, of his promises to make her happy—to make her feel complete and infinite until the end of her days—and of his cute, little fantasies of how the future was going to be for the two of them and their future children.

And as he pounded into her, with hard, deep thrusts, hips moving faster and faster each time she moaned against his ear, driving him to the edge of his sanity, he demanded her to say her answer to his proposal. With pleasure clouding her mind, she could no longer think about any word other than yes.  

***

“It has a private pool and a jacuzzi, you’ll love it, babe, trust me,” Donghyuck said into his phone, grinning to himself every time he heard a giggle coming from the other line. “I know I said no surprises this time, but I made the reservation like a month ago so you can’t really blame me for it.”

He silently thanked the florist who handed him a bouquet of red roses before he exited the store and head back to his car. He placed the flowers on the passenger seat next to him, along with two little custom-made alpaca plushies wearing wedding attires, and a tiny white box with a pair of engagement rings inside.

“Look, we’re celebrating your birthday in that resort whether you like it or not,” he said, looking like he was about to burst into laughter in a matter of seconds from hearing her adorable complaints. “It’s not that expensive, I swear! And even if it is, I’m completely fine with using my three months' worth of salary to please my girlfriend.” There was a loud shouting on the other side of the line, and he chuckled, “I’m kidding, Noona. Look, I’m heading to your workplace. I’ll see you in half an hour, okay?” His gaze softened. “Me too. I love you too. Bye.”

When the line got disconnected, Donghyuck leaned against the back of his seat, huffing to the air, his heart banging loud against his chest. The first proposal was all fun and games, but this time, he was serious about it. He had prepared everything, dressed sharply in a black suit and a white buttoned-up shirt, and memorized his lines by heart from practicing it over a hundred times in front of his bathroom mirror a few hours ago. He had taken a day off to make sure everything went perfectly, but now as he seated behind the wheels, about to see her face and the bright, beautiful smile she always threw at him whenever he graced her with his presence, he became so nervous, so afraid of ruining his plan.

A text message arrived, interrupting his thoughts.

There’s a birthday gift on my desk under your name. My co-workers are getting jealous. Why are you so perfect?

And before he could reply, another one came by.

I love you, Haechannie.

All of his concerns began to dissipate from his chest. It would be okay if he ruined one thing or two while undergoing his plan. She would forgive him with a smile. She always did. She had always accepted him the way he was.

So he texted her back.

There’s no life without you, Noona.

And that was the truth. He had only truly lived because of her.

He placed his phone on the dashboard of his car, wore back his seatbelt, and started the engine. His thoughts were so full of her as much as his heart was, that a smile began to grow permanent on his face. Even as he began to drive, he still had the hardest time focusing on everything else but her.

It was until a truck passed at high speed, smashed his car from the side with a loud, thunderous bang, sending tremors of pain all over his body before his thoughts could process the details.

And suddenly, what was once vibrant with a spectrum of colors, his world turned monochromatic once again.

***

#lee donghyuck #lee haechan #haechan #haechan smut #haechan fluff #nct #nct dream #nct u #haechan nct #haechan blurbs #haechan fic #nct smut #nct fluff #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #donghyuck #haechan x reader #haechan imagines #haechan scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fic #haechan timestamps #nct timestamps #haechan fanfic #nct fanfic #mine #sundaysundaes

[gamergirl929]

I’m In Love With My Best Friend’s Sister (Christen Press x Reader)

Anonymous Request: omg yesss ur requests are open!!! could u write a Christen x Morgan!reader one where christen is Alex’s rly good friend but falls for her younger sister? yay I rly enjoy ur writing :)

I REALLY appreciate everyone’s kindness, this will be the only fic I post today, but the plan is to get back to three next Friday. <3

Alex lets out a squeal as she wraps her arms tightly around you, the two of you burying yourselves in one another's embrace.  

"I can't believe you're here." Alex grins against your neck and you scoff.  

"Oh, so YOU'RE the only Morgan who can get called to the USWNT camp." You roll your eyes playfully, the forward pulling you into a headlock, digging her knuckles into your head.  

"Shut it short stack."  

You growl, wiggling out of her hold.  

"I'm not THAT short."  

Kelley makes her way towards you, the defender's eyes narrowing as she places a hand on the top of your head, comparing her height with yours, noting the fact that you're just a bit shorter than her.  

"Yeah, you're short."  

You scoff.  

"You're biased!"  

Meanwhile, Christen and Tobin have made their way towards the field, the green orbed forward grinning as she jogs towards you, wrapping her arms around you from behind.  

"If it isn't my favorite Morgan." She rests her chin on your shoulder and you smirk, sticking your tongue out at Alex.  

"You hear that? I'm her favorite Mor-

Alex pinches your nose, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout.  

"Alex..." You whine, your voice altered in a way that makes her snort.  

You grimace, pulling away from her, your eyes widening when you realize your body is flush with Christen's, the forward's cheeks flushing.  

You clear your throat quickly shuffling away from Christen.  

"S-Sorry..." You mumble, rubbing the back of your neck and Christen smiles.  

"Don't worry about it." She winks, your cheeks flushing bright red.  

Kelley gives you a nudge.  

"Let's see what you've got little Morgan."

                                                            ***

Apparently, you had a lot, because by the end of practice, you'd absolutely torn up the field, scoring a number of goals and assisting on another.  

Alex pulls you into a sweaty hug, the woman again digging her knuckles into the top of your head.  

"Are you trying to make me look bad?" Alex growls, the two of you ending up wrestling in the middle of the field, Alex laughing as you jump on her back.  

Christen watches the two of you with a massive grin, the woman shaking her head.  

"Some things never change, do they?" Tobin asks, Christen's head shaking back and forth.  

"Nope."  

Christen sees a brief flash of the two of you, both much younger than you are now, the two of you in the exact same position you are now, you hanging off Alex's back as the two of you laugh.  

Christen had always had a soft spot for you, the older woman in all honesty crushing on you since you’d met.  

Mind you, the two of you were fairly close in age, so it wasn't the age gap that kept her from making a move, it was the fact that you were her best friend's little sister, and Christen wasn't sure if that was a line she was willing to cross.

Christen's crush hadn't ebbed in any way, shape or form, the woman's crush growing more and more as the years went on, but AGAIN, she wasn't sure if that was a line she'd ever wanted to cross.  

In that very moment you turn to her with a grin, the woman's heart skipping a beat.  

Deep down, she wanted to cross that line, but she wouldn't lose Alex Morgan as a friend, no matter what, she wouldn't lose her and she wouldn't lose you.  

                                                            ***

You throw yourself into an empty bus seat with a lengthy yawn, Christen snickering as she sits behind you, Tobin at her side.  

“What’s so funny?” You stick your tongue out at her, the woman giggling.  

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re tired?” She smirks, earning an eye roll.  

“I’m not ALWAYS tired.”  

Alex scoffs on her way by.  

“Yes, you are.”  

You growl, your eyes narrowed, you turn to Christen with a pout, the forward’s cheeks flushing, something Tobin immediately catches on to.  

She gives her a nudge, the forward turning to her, brows knitted in confusion.  

“Be careful, your crush is showing.”  

Christen’s cheeks flush bright red, the woman’s mouth opening and closing a few times before she glances away.  

“You okay Chrissy?” You ask, worriedly and Christen smiles at you using the nickname you’d given her years ago.  

“I’m okay.”  

You nod, turning away, but you can’t help but sneak another glance at the forward out of the corner of your eye, your heart skipping a beat at the way she giggles at something Tobin had said.  

Suddenly, something zooms across the bus, hitting you right in the forehead.  

You growl, eyes narrowed as you search for the source, finding a beaming Alex Morgan staring your way.  

“Bitch.” You mouth, the woman gasping.  

“How rude.”  

You stick your tongue out at her, catching Christen’s green orbs on you out of the corner of your eye, a grin stretched across her face.  

You sigh.  

“Ugh I’m screwed.”  

                                                            ***

Being at camp meant spending more and more time with Christen, meaning your childhood crush on her grew more and more.  

Christen Press had always been beautiful, as the years past, she only got more and more beautiful, your childhood crush spiraling into something new.  

Alex was unaware of your feelings for the woman, how could you tell your older sister that you were crushing on her best friend?  

You knew if you told her she’d tease you to hell and back, so in a way, Christen Press was untouchable, and untouchable meant that she’d always be out of your reach.  

Every time you saw that smile, and those sparkling green orbs would lock with yours, you would absolutely swoon.  

You wanted her, you wanted her in a way you knew you’d never have her, you wouldn’t cross that line, you wouldn’t do that to Alex, you knew it would bother her, and you weren’t about to do that to her.  

Still, the crush on Christen was gaining traction and soon, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hold your feelings back for much longer.  

                                                            ***

Camp had literally been kicking your ass, you wanted to stand out, you wanted to earn a spot on the team, NOT just because you were Alex Morgan’s little sister.  

You so tired in fact, that on team bonding movie night, you simply laid face down in bed, your teammates having to sit around your tired form.  

“Hey, scoot over.” You feel a poke in your back and groan, your face still buried in your pillow.  

You let out a grunt when you’re rolled over, your bottom lip jutting out as you look up into a pair of familiar green orbs.  

“Chrissssssssssssssss.” You whine as the woman scoots you over, flopping down on the bed beside you, along with Tobin.  

You grimace, rolling back over, one arm and one leg hanging off the bed.  

Christen rolls her eyes.  

“Come here.”  

Your eyes widen when you realize Christen has her arms open, your heart racing in your chest, your stomach flip flopping.  

Christen surprises you by pulling you into her arms, the woman’s cheeks blood red as you lean against her, letting out a relaxed sigh, the feeling of her arms wrapped around you bringing you a sense of comfort you never thought you could feel, your skin absolutely buzzing.  

Christen’s heart stutters in her chest as you snuggle into her side, letting out a lengthy yawn.  

“You’ve been working yourself too hard.” She chastises and you huff.  

“I have to make the team...” You mumble. “Not just because I’m Alex’s little sister.”  

Christen brushes a strand of hair out of your face and you smile, the two of you completely unaware that you have an audience, a certain forward looking at you with intrigue.  

“You can’t run yourself into the ground.” She whispers and you sigh.  

“I know...”

There’s a beat of silence, Christen’s lips parting to continue your conversation, but she quickly realizes you’re fast asleep.  

She shakes her head, hugging you tighter.  

“Someone looks comfy.”  

Christen’s green orbs widen, her cheeks flushing when she sees Alex’s blue orbs on the two of you, the woman’s eyes narrowed.  

“She’s being too hard on herself.” She shrugs, Alex nodding, the corners of her mouth drooping downwards.  

“She wants to make the team based on skill, not her last name, but she can’t run herself into the ground...” Alex brushes her fingertips down your jawline and you grumble in your sleep, snuggling closer to Christen, the forward biting her bottom lip to hold back a massive grin.  

Alex’s blue orbs dart from you, to Christen and back, the wheels in her brain turning. She shakes her head.

She didn’t see what she thought she was seeing...  

Right?  

                                                            ***

Making the USWNT was a dream, a dream that had just become a reality, and it wasn’t just because your last name was Morgan.  

The first to get to you, of course, was Alex, but right on her heels was Christen, the woman wrapping her arms tightly around you after Alex had nearly squeezed you to death.  

Christen turns her head, kissing your cheek.  

“I am so proud of you Y/N.” She whispers in your ear, your cheeks flushing as you bury your face in her neck.  

It’s entirely an accident when Christen shifts, your lips brushing her neck, the forward inhaling sharply.  

The two of you abruptly jump apart, your and Christen’s eyes wide as you glance away from one another, cheeks blood red.  

“Uhhh, s-sorry.”  

Alex hums, eyes narrowing.  

Something was going on between the two of you, and she was going to find out what.

                                                            ***

“Have Y/N and Christen been acting... Strange?” Alex asks Kelley, the defender’s brows furrowing.  

“No stranger than usual.” She snorts, glancing down the breakfast table, catching your gaze on Christen, the woman giggling at something Tobin had said, when the forward turns towards you, you turn away, your cheeks flushed bright red.  

Kelley hums, glancing at Christen, noticing the fact that her cheeks are tinted red. She turns back to Alex, the two sharing a glance.  

“Maybe stranger than usual.”  

Alex nods.  

“So, will you help me?”  

Kelley’s brows furrow.  

“Help you what?”  

“Shadow them?”  

Kelley snorts.  

“You mean spying?”  

Alex groans.  

“Yes, I mean spying.”  

Kelley shrugs.  

“I’m in.”

                                                            ***

“Al, we’ve been following them around all week, eavesdropping on them at practice, when we go out to dinner, even at the bookstore, I do NOT do dusty bookstores JAN, YOU KNOW I HAVE ALLERGIES.” Kelley growls, Alex flopping her hand at her in an attempt to silence her.  

The two watch you stealthily from a nearby aisle, Alex humming when she sees your fingers brush, the two of you glancing at one another, eyes wide and cheeks flushed before you both turn away from one another.  

Alex’s blue orbs narrow.  

“Did you see that...?” She whispers, growling when she doesn’t get a response.  

Alex’s mouth drops when she sees Kelley modeling a ugly brown Bud Light hat in a nearby mirror.  

“Jan, how do I look?” She turns towards her, the forward glancing at you and Christen before she makes her way towards Kelley.  

“Yeah, that’s not your color.”  

Though her eyes are no longer on the two of you, the wheels in Alex’s brain keep turning, trying to think of reasons why the two of you are acting so strange. 

                                                            ***

You make your way to the roof with a frown, the rain lightly falling as you make your way to the edge of the roof, taking a seat, your legs dangling off the edge, at least one of the edges considering there was a tiny overhang beneath your feet.  

Fans had been particularly cruel as of late, many saying that the only reason you were on the USWNT was because of your last name.  

You knew fans would talk, you knew they’d say there were more deserving players, and in ways, they were right.  

In your eyes, you hadn’t gotten onto the team simply because of your last name, but because of your skill.  

You shake your head.  

“Hey.”  

You turn around abruptly, making sure you don’t fall off the building in your haste to turn to the voice’s owner.  

Christen slowly shuffles towards you, taking a seat beside you.  

“What are you doing up here?” She asks, her legs dangling off the edge of the building and you shrug.  

“Just needed some time to think.”  

The two of you go silent, your eyes fluttering shut as you lean towards Christen, resting your head on her shoulder.  

Christen stiffens, her cheeks flushing, heart skipping a beat in her chest.  

“Everyone thinks I got here because my last name is Morgan...” You frown, eyes widening slightly when Christen slips an arm around you.  

“Let them talk Y/N, they’re wrong.” Christen rests her head against yours.  

“You don’t realize just how good you are Y/N, your place is on the USWNT, it’s with Alex...” Christen swallows hard, her heart racing in her chest.  

“It’s with me.”  

Your eyes widen as you pick your head up, turning to face Christen, the woman already turned towards you, her cheeks flushed.  

Unconsciously, your eyes dart from her green orbs, to her lips and back.  

It’s then you realize you were leaning in, as was Christen, your lips meeting in an electric, and earth-shattering kiss.  

You’d been kissed before, yes, but kissing Christen Press was like coming home, it was like the first ray of sun poking out from behind a black rain cloud after a deadly storm, it was like being complete.  

Christen cups your cheek, her lips moving gently against yours, the two of you parting only to lean back in, your lips meeting again.  

Eventually, the two of you reluctantly part, your foreheads resting together as your eyes flutter open, locking, your lips splitting into massive grins.  

“I’ve been wanting to do that, for a really... Really long time.” You whisper, Christen leaning in to bump her nose against yours.  

“Me too.”  

                                                            ***

After the kiss shared between you and Christen on the rooftop that night, you weren’t sure where the two of you stood, but considering Christen had been stuck to you like glue, you imagine you stood shoulder to shoulder when it came to what the kiss meant for the two of you.  

It wasn’t Christen’s reaction that scared you, it was Alex’s.  

Alex Morgan and Christen Press had been friends for as long as you could remember, and you don’t know what kissing Christen would do to that friendship, in all honesty, you were terrified.

“Hey.”  

You’re unable to bite back a smile when Christen makes her way towards you, a bashful smile on her face.  

Inconspicuously, Christen leans against you, her fingers brushing yours.  

You glance around, grabbing the forward’s arm and dragging her into a secluded employee’s only room in the hotel you were staying at.  

Christen inhales sharply when you grab the front of her tee shirt and pull her into a kiss, the woman all too happy to reciprocate.  

She brushes her nose playfully back and forth against yours, the two of you smiling softly.  

“I’m scared about what Alex-

It’s with wide eyes that you realize the two of you aren’t alone, the piercing blue orbs of the aforementioned woman darting from Christen, to you and back.  

“I-  

Christen swallows hard.  

“We can-

Alex shakes her head.  

“I knew something was going on, but I guess I thought you’d trust me enough to tell me...” Alex frowns sadly, unable to look at you and Christen.  

Alex shakes her head, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she turns on her heels, taking her leave.  

“Al, wait!” You call out, chasing after her, unable to catch her as she sprints away, leaving you and Christen behind, the two of you turning to one another sadly, the two of you hoping that she’ll come around, but knowing you’d BOTH have to earn her trust back again.  

                                                            ***

Kelley gently runs a hand down Alex’s back.  

“I mean, we knew something was going on...” Kelley sighs, Alex shaking her head.  

“I just wish they had told me... I wish they had trusted me enough...”  Alex mumbles, the defender nodding sympathetically.  

A soft knock on the hotel room’s door makes both Alex and Kelley turn their attention to the closed door, the two sharing a glance.  

“I think we both know who that is...” Kelley frowns. “Do you want me to answer it?”

You knock again.  

“Come on Al, please.” You call out through the door, the forward sighing.  

“Let her in.”  

Kelley pats her back.  

“Just, hear her out.”  

Alex nods, the defender making her way to the door, tugging it open, frowning when she sees your Y/E/C orbs are bloodshot and full of tears.  

Kelley throws her arms around you, giving you a squeeze.  

“Let her know you trust her, she loves you, and she loves Chris.” She whispers in your ear, kissing your temple before she takes her leave, leaving you and Alex alone.  

Uncertainly, you make your way towards the bed, Y/E/C orbs locking with Alex’s blue orbs.  

She pats the bed beside her.  

“Come on, sit down.”  

You wordlessly sit down, sure not to leave a gap between you, your arm pressed against hers, the two of you remaining silent.  

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Alex asks softly, unable to look you in the eye.  

You slip off the bed, sitting on the carpet in front of her.  

“I was scared...” You frown, taking Alex’s hands. “I didn’t know what was happening between Christen and I, I didn’t want you losing your best friend and I didn’t want to lose my sister.”  

Alex squeezes your hands.  

“You could NEVER lose me. Never.” She pulls you close, spreading her legs as you wrap your arms around her middle, your head resting against her chest.  

“I love you more than anything Y/N, there’s nothing you could ever do to lose me...” She ducks down, kissing the top of your head.  

The two of you remain silent, that is until Alex snorts.  

“So, you and Chris huh?” She asks, watching as your cheeks flush bright red.  

“Allllllllll...” You whine, the forward shrugging.  

“What? You can’t date my best friend and expect me not to say anything.” She sticks her tongue out at you and your eyes widen.

“W-We’re not dating...” You fidget, your sister scoffing.  

“Well, I don’t kiss MY friends.”  

You huff.  

“I don’t know where we stand...” You shrug. “I really, really like her, I always have...” You murmur, unable to keep your cheeks from flushing bright red.  

Alex hums thoughtfully.  

“Maybe you need to talk about it?”  

You swallow hard, nodding.  

“What if she doesn’t want to be with me?” You frown sadly.  

“Then I’ll literally murder her for leading you on.”  

You give her a nudge.  

“No killing Chris.”  

“If she hurts you I will!”  

You grin, wrapping your arms tightly around the forward.  

“I love you Al.”  

“I love you too.”  

                                                            ***

The second green orbs lock with blue your eyes widen.  

“Uh-oh.” You mumble, watching as Alex makes her way towards Christen, the forward swallowing hard.  

You watch, nervously as Alex, even though her and Christen are the same size, towers over her.  

You quickly realize everyone is watching the exchange between the two, it’s then you understand that they must ALL know about what’s going on between you and Christen, the women eagerly waiting to see the eventually confrontation between your older sister and Christen.  

Alex takes a deep breath.  

“I know we’re best friends, but if you hurt Y/N, I won’t hesitate to literally kill you.” Alex says rather coldly, watching as Christen’s eyes widen.  

“You...” She pauses, swallowing hard. “You’re not mad that we’re...” Christen glances your way, her cheeks flushing.  

“We’re-

“Dating?” Alex fills in the blank, watching as Christen shuffles nervously from foot to foot.  

“I don’t know where we stand...”  

Alex huffs dramatically.  

“You two REALLY need to talk.” She rolls her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.  

“I really, really like her.” Christen shrugs. “I just don’t know where we stand.”  

Alex nods in your direction, Christen’s cheeks flushing deep red when she realizes you’re staring at the two of them.  

“You’ll never know unless you ask.” Alex shrugs. “Remember even though I love you, I’ll kill you if you hurt her.”  

Christen nods, grinning as Alex wraps her arms tightly around her.  

“I wouldn’t expect ANYTHING less.”  

The two eventually part, Christen giving her best friend a nod before she jogs your way.  

You swallow hard as the woman comes to a halt in front of you.  

“Do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow night? Dinner?” Christen asks boldly and your eyes widen, your lips splitting into a grin.  

Over Christen’s shoulder you see Alex smirking your way, the woman, along with the rest of your teammates giving you a thumbs up.  

Your tongue swipes at your dry lips, the pink flesh of your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.  

“I’d love to.”  

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #christen press x reader #christen press imagine