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nctsworld · 3 years

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two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone off to one side.

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.”

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly.

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass. ��

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

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bruhstories · 3 years

Text

Sticky, Saccharine & Sinful

Summary: Professor Jaeger asks his assistant to come over and grade some papers. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings & Content: language, protected sex, fingering, oral sex (female & male receiving), spanking, daddy kink, bossy Zeke, bratty Reader, tying up, bit of an age gap but no underage shit (we don’t do that here) Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: Huehuehue guess who finally wrote a daddy kink smut? Also I have looped Cherry Cola by Kuwada the entire time i wrote, proofread and formatted this bitch, I think it works with the atmosphere

"Y/N, I'm gonna need you to help me grade some papers later today." Professor Jaeger pushed his glasses with his index finger as he looked up from his book.

"You got it, boss!" You nodded as you entered the staff lounge room at Stohess Uni, two cups in your hands.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Zeke?" The man sighed. “Or at least call me professor.”

"But I'm your assistant, you're my superior, that makes you my boss, boss." Sarcasm dripping down your tongue as you placed his coffee down the table. "All black, two cubes of sugar."

"Thank you. And yes, technically I am your boss, but you're, what, six years younger than me?"

"Seven and a half." You pouted.

You've been working at Stohess University for a little over a year now as Zeke Jaeger's assistant. He was the best philosophy teacher, as well as head of the department, and you nailed your internship interview, aspiring to be like him one day. He even taught you Ethics during your masters, and currently you were doing your PhD research under his coordination. The man was a genius in his field, and you didn't dare disappoint him, but your personalities always clashed. He was calm and collected, you were bubbly and all over the place. He was nice and polite, you were sarcastic and rude. Zeke knew you'd make a horrible teacher for children, but undergraduate students would adore you.

"How can you drink hot coffee in this heat wave?" You asked him as you fanned someone's epistemology essay to cool yourself off.

"It's actually been proven that warm drinks hydrate better than cold ones during summertime." He inhaled the scent of freshly brewed coffee before taking the essay out of your hand.

"Whatever you say, boss." You shrugged and gulped on your iced tea, a few glistening amber drops dripping from the corners of your mouth, down your chin and your neck. "Ah, shit." You wiped the tea with the back of your hand, not catching Zeke watching you curiously. "Why did the AC have to break down today of all days?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and immersed himself back into his book. "Oh, I hope you don't mind coming to my place to grade the papers? I don't think you'll be able to focus in this heat. Besides, I want to take a look at your latest PhD chapter." Jaeger told you absentmindedly, eyes glued to the pages in front of him.

"Sure thing–"

"Don't say it."

"Boss."

"Jesus Christ..."

You adored pissing your ex-professor off, but deep down, Zeke couldn't deny the fact that he loved the authority he had over you. You were a very alluring woman, after all, and any sane man would kill to be as close to you as he was, let alone boss you around like he did. And he had the strong feeling you acted like a brat around him on purpose. You took your leave after downing the rest of your beverage, going to the library to borrow some books for your own research.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You rang the intercom and waited for Zeke to let you inside the building, dragging your feet down the hallway, tired from carrying so much shit with you – laptop, books, essays, papers, pens and highlighters – you were a walking, talking stationery shop and one could only wonder how someone with such a petite frame was so strong. Zeke waited in the doorway and took some of your things, relieving the weight as you sighed.

"Coffee?" He guided you to his kitchen.

"Water, please." You plopped on a chair and unbuttoned the first three heart-shaped buttons of your lilac shirt, tiny beads of sweat bundled up at your collarbone.

"You sure? I'll be keeping you up all night." Jaeger laughed. He was obviously talking about the papers, but to you, the sentence had a different innuendo — not that you minded, you had your fair share of sinful fantasies with the older man. Come to think of it, you were wondering why he was single. Zeke was undoubtedly an attractive man, he could have any woman he wanted. Yet you’ve never seen him on a date, never seen a picture of a woman when you accidentally glanced at his phone, never heard him talk about a significant other.

"Hey, mind if I smoke?" You asked, noticing the ashtray on his table.

"Not at all, I'll join you." He sat opposite you, mug of coffee in his hand. You pulled out a pack of pink cigarettes from your backpack and placed one between your lips, pocketing your jeans for a lighter. His hand extended over the table, lighter in his hand, and you slightly bent your head forward, eyes glued to his. You inhaled the smoke, not breaking eye contact, and exhaled with a sigh. Something about Zeke lighting up your cigarette made your little cunt tingle.

"Thanks, boss." The corners of your lips turned into a barely visible smirk. You really, really liked to tick him off.

"Don't mention it." He told you before lighting his own cigarette. What, no comeback? No objection? "How's your paper going?"

"It's... going." You shrugged.

"You haven't written anything in your last chapter, have you?"

"No, I have," you half-whined, "it's just that I can't find my words. I think I encountered writer's block."

"'S alright, we'll figure something out." Zeke pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase and dropped it on the table.

"Wow, no shit you need help, that's a lot of papers." You twirled the cigarette between your fingers before taking one final puff and crushing it in the glass ashtray.

"Told you." He picked his resting cigarette back from the ashtray. "You can do the first years."

"I'd rather do something else." You whispered to yourself, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, boss. First years, got it." Your manicured fingers pulled the stack of papers closer to you. The exams were already annotated according to subject and year and you took everything you needed before shoving them back to Zeke.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You were bored out of your mind, fiddling with the red pen in your hand and tapping your fingers on the table with no particular rhythm. It was already dark outside and you barely finished a quarter of your stack while Zeke was halfway through his.

"Could you please stop that?" He asked you without even bothering to look at you.

"Why?"

"It's annoying."

With a groan you rolled your eyes and stopped tapping your fingers, instead opting to fidget your leg, bouncing it up and down under the table. The wooden furniture shook at the movement and Zeke sighed, putting the pen down.

"I understand you're bored, but if you want to be a professor, this is part of the job description."

"I know, I know, but, like, can we take a break? Please? We've been at it for two and a half hours now and I'm just so bored." You looked at him with puppy eyes and a pout on your plump lips.

"Ugh, fine. What do you want to do?"

"I dunno. Got any board games?"

"Only a pack of playing cards." Zeke shrugged.

"Perfect! Literally anything is better than this. I mean look at what this kid wrote: the ship of Theseus ARE a thought experiment. Can you believe it? How can a nineteen-year-old not know proper grammar?"

"Careful, Y/N," he chuckled, "you made a pretty embarrassing error during your masters, too."

"Nooo, don't bring that up!" You got up and walked to the freezer, scanning the contents.

"Why not? It's funny."

"Yeah, for you." You rolled your eyes. "But I still proved my worth." You triumphantly told him, tongue playfully poking out of your mouth from behind the freezer door. Ugh, you were so cute, made to be ravaged. Your eyes settled on the single raspberry popsicle and you picked it up, closing back the door. "Can I have this?" Oh, he knew exactly what you were doing.

"Of course."

With Zeke's approval, you unwrapped the plastic, revealing the rose-tinted dessert, swirling your tongue around its tip. You were a sight for sore eyes, (not so) innocently licking at the popsicle, your gaze on him and his growing bulge. He didn't even bother hiding it, instead relaxing in the chair and drinking you in. It was no mistake that Zeke invited you over, and you weren't stupid enough to believe it was a mistake.

"Do you... want some?" You trailed off as the once cold dessert began melting from your hot lips.

"If you'd be so kind." He patted his lap and you accepted the invitation. His bulge was comfortably uncomfortable against your ass, and you put the popsicle onto his lips, one arm draped around his shoulder. Zeke's tongue moved languidly around the sweet snack and you leaned in, your own tongue licking both the dessert and his lips. It was sticky and saccharine and sinful, and your poor pussy couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you wanna fuck me, daddy?" You naively asked him. He wasn't surprised in the slightest by the name, already suspecting you had daddy issues, in fact counting on it.

"I very much do." His hands were already roaming your body. The popsicle was almost gone, and you deepthroated the last bit, taking the little stick out of your mouth with a pop. Finally, he crushed his lips onto yours and you could tell he had experience. You dropped the stick on the tiled floor, twisting your body to better straddle him. Zeke unbuttoned your shirt as you slowly began grinding your hips against his bulge, earning a groan from him. "Ugh, you bad girl." He threw his head back as you loosened the tie around his neck.

"Are you going to punish me?" You slowly, too slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

"What’s the point of a punishment if you’re going to enjoy it?" He mused, unclasping your bra. You had goosebumps all over your skin and Zeke took one of your nipples in his hot mouth, a hand pinching your other one. You whimpered at the slight stinging sensation

"Does it m-matter if I enjoy it?" His touch became rougher, almost animalistic.

"Of course," he stopped sucking your swollen, oversensitive nipple, "otherwise you won't learn your lesson." You got up and turned around, your back against him, taking your jeans and underwear off, bending down and exposing your cunt to him. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N." Zeke shook his head, removing his own trousers.

"Allow me." You tucked your fingers behind the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down as you kneeled in front of him. His throbbing cock tapped your face after finally being unleashed from its textile cage.

"I suspected you were big, but this? This is too good." You sneered at his member, mesmerised by its size.

"Just shut up and suck it." Zeke pretty much commanded you and you wet your lips, pressing your tongue against the velvety tip. You worked your way around his shaft, enjoying this more than you should've. You pulled back, a string of saliva and precum attached to your lips as you looked up at him.

"Am I doing good, daddy?"

"So good." He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed your head back. You eagerly sucked and slurped until he got bored of your mouth around his cock. Zeke pulled you up, spun you around and bent you over the table. He brought your wrists together and tied them up behind your back with his tie before taking a step back and admiring the view. Ass up, face down, just like he loved it. His foot pushed yours to the side, spreading your legs for him before he gave you a good slap over your ass cheeks. You shot up with a moan but his hand forced you back down against the table.

"I think I know exactly how to punish you." Zeke announced, two fingers spreading your folds as his tongue dove inside of you, lapping at your wet cunt.

"Oh, God!" You groaned in pleasure. No man has ever eaten you out like he did. Most guys did it as a chore. Zeke? He was enjoying every single bit of it, passionately fingering you, his tongue moving in ways you didn't think were possible. "Ah, fuck– so good! Daddy, please! I'm coming!"

The way he venomously laughed told you that no, you were not going to come any time soon. Just as you were about to let loose, Zeke stopped, removing his fingers, another slap on your ass. Tears pooled at your Y/E/C eyes, frustration written all over your face. "No, no, no!"

"I told you, Y/N, you're a bad, bad girl." He bent over and whispered in your ear, his cock pressing against your entrance, his hand in your hair.

"Oh, pleaseee, I need to come! Will you let me come?"

"Hm, it depends." Jaeger straightened his back, hands resting on your hips. "Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yes, yes, daddy, I did! I promise I'll be good!" You tried to turn around to look at him, oblivious to what he was doing behind your back, cheeks crimson, droplets of sweat on your forehead.

"Convincing enough." He shrugged and you heard the condom snap against his cock. Unexpectedly and without any warning, the man thrusted into your wet cunt and you, again, shot up, but he pinned you back. "Stay fucking put, you little whore." Zeke demanded and you tried, you really tried, but your body had a mind of its own. "I see you refuse to learn."

"No, no, please!" You slammed your face onto the table, squishing your cheek in the process, desperate and helpless.

"That's better." He concluded, sarcasm dripping down his tongue as he rammed his cock deeper into you. The silken walls clenched around his hard member, and he grunted, no other woman pleasing him like your tight pussy did. "You like it when I take you from behind, you filthy slut?"

"Yes– oh my God, YES!" You bucked your hips against his for more pressure and pain.

"What would my students think if they saw you getting fucked like this on their papers?"

"Ah– I don't c-care!"

"What would the headmaster say if she knew you fuck your superior and- ugh- coordinator?" Jaeger thrusted harder and faster.

"Please, Zeke-"

His hand found its way to your neck, tightly squeezing it.

"Wrong name, Y/N."

"Shit, daddy!"

"That's right, I'm your fucking daddy and hell will freeze before someone else fucking touches you!"

"Fuc-k, fuuuck!" You both howled and panted as you climaxed, your entire bodies quivering. Zeke pulled out of you, carefully removing the rubber from his cock and giving you another slap on your perky ass cheeks. You stood up, arms still tied around your back, turned on your heels and pecked him on his cheek, giggling like a schoolgirl, marvelled by the fact that he chose you over anyone else.

"You know what, Y/N? Now that I've found you, I'm never going to let you go." He promised.

"I'm all yours, boss."

#zeke jaeger #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke x reader #zeke smut #aot #aot smut #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk #snk smut #snk x reader #snk fanfic #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #zekeythefreaky

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tiffdawg · 3 years

Text

Curriculum Vitae: Chapter Fifteen

Gif: @bestintheparsec

curriculum vitae noun cur·ric·u·la vi·tae Latin. the course of one’s life.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 7.0k

Rated: E | Warnings: NSFW – explicit sexual content, sex, public sex, oral sex (female receiving), cumplay, dirty talk. Mentions of alcohol. Mild language. 18+ only.

Chapter Summary: In this chapter, you and Javier attend the holiday party for the social sciences’ faculty.

A/N: I really risked it all for y’all just to login and post this. I still haven’t seen the finale so I’m going to drop this and run but I’d love to know what you think. I hope this chapter makes the extra-long wait worth it.

Read on AO3

CV Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Fifteen

Unsurprisingly, things were tense the next morning

Javier was up before you but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Although considering it was a quarter past seven you wondered how much sleep the man could’ve gotten. What was surprising was that you woke alone.

Then you ate breakfast together in silence. Moved about your 400 square foot studio in silence. Worked across the dining table grading papers in silence.

Javier was never an overly talkative person but that was unlike him. It was unlike the two of you. You knew there were things from his past that troubled him. Things you couldn’t even begin to imagine. The longer you’d known him, the more time you spent together, the more you felt his sadness. But he seemed determined to hide it from you.

However, you couldn’t dwell on it. Not until you’d finished grading exams and assigned final grades and could put the fall quarter behind you. With a Monday deadline, work came first.

Eventually, Javier finished his grading. He gathered his things to go home and dress for the faculty party that evening, leaving you with just a kiss on your cheek and a promise to pick you up at six. You hummed noncommittally as you watched him leave.

Sunny whined at the closed door before looking over her shoulder at you with a silent question in her wide brown eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong either,” you answered with a shrug. She laid down where she was, head on her paws and a rather sad expression of her face.

… . …

By some miracle, you were able to focus long enough to finish your grading with enough time to spare to get ready for a night out. At 5:58 you walked out of your building into the dark evening and found Javier waiting for you at the bottom of the stoop. It was a chilly night and you pulled your wool coat tighter around you as you closed the last bit of distance between the two of you. For the first time that day, as he held his hand out to you, he smiled. It was nothing more than a slight pull at the corner of his lips, but it was something.

You took his hand and let him lead you toward his car. When he reached into his coat pocket, presumably in search of his keys, he pulled out a half-finished pack of Nicorette. He tossed it in a nearby trash can.

“Why did you do that?” you asked without thinking.

He shrugged as he unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you. “I don’t need it.”

You made no move to get in. “I thought you were trying to quit.”

“I… I did.”

“Really?” you asked, not bothering to hide your excitement.

“I haven’t needed it for a couple of weeks now actually.”

“Javi, that’s amazing,” you smiled as you brought him to you for a kiss by the lapels of his coat. “I’m so proud of you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re proud of me?”

“Yeah,” you said easily. He still didn’t seem to believe you. You continued tentatively, afraid you might say the wrong thing but needing to say something all the same. “Sometimes I just– I feel like I don’t actually know that much about you. Or, I should say, about your past. And I don’t need to know anything more than what you want to tell me,” you added quickly. “But I see you. I see you trying to be a better man. Everyday.” Your hands moved on their own accord to cup his freshly shaved cheeks. “I’m proud of you. Even if you think it’s silly.”

“I–” Javier opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t manage more than that single syllable.

Instead, he stared at you. You might’ve crossed some unspoken line, but you didn’t care. You’d meant everything that you said. His eyes shifted away as he stared at something past you for a drawn-out moment. “Come here,” he finally managed, and he pulled you into his embrace. The two of you held each other in the middle of the sidewalk, letting the few people out and about walk around you. “You’re too good for me, compañera.”

“I know,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. His fingers dug into your sides and you laughed. “Are we going to talk about what happened last night?”

He sighed heavily. “I’d rather have one good night with you before I leave. I’m not going to see you for more than two weeks.”

Deciding not to question it, you put it out of your mind. Maybe what happened was a one off. Still, you pulled back and scowled at him. “Then stop being such a….”

“An asshole?”

“Exactly.”

He huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes but nodded his agreement. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You gonna make it up to me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got plans for you tonight.”

A chill shot down your spine at the insinuation. “Good,” you smirked, “so do I.”

… . …

The country club was only a short drive past the university and up into the hills amongst rows of gated mansions. Slipping out of the car before the valet approached, you darted in ahead of Javier. The bubble that the two of you were living in still didn’t extend to work, not entirely. Not beyond fucking in your offices and occasionally brushing hands under the table at faculty meetings.

Inside, the already gilded ballroom was draped in silver and gold holiday decorations from ceiling to floor. Every inch sparkled and shone in the chandelier light. Your colleagues from across the school of social sciences crowed the hall, all dressed to the nines with glasses of champagne and hors-d’œuvre topped with caviar in their hands.

You politely made your rounds before you found yourself conversing with Debra by the bar as you waited for a cocktail. She was her usual gossipy self, going on and on about the latest office drama. That was when you first spotted Javier amongst the crowd.

He wore a well-fitted black suit – one that was significantly more flattering than some of his older ones and you idly wondered if it was new – with a white shirt, forgoing a tie so that his tanned chest was still exposed, even on a winter night. His dark hair was styled just enough to keep it off his face. Even from across the room, you could see the glimmer in his warm brown eyes as he chatted away with someone. You were surprised when he walked right up to Rafael Garcia, one of the younger professors from the political science department. You watched as they shook hands and he was introduced to his wife, noting the genuine smile on his face.

“We just started seeing each other a couple of weeks ago but it’s going well so far. I really like him.” Deb’s voice brought you back to the present.

“That’s nice,” you replied absentmindedly.

“What about you, doc?”

“What? Oh, no. I don’t have time for something like that.” You waved her off, but your eyes still followed Javier across the room. You tried to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach.

“That’s a shame.” Debra looked out at the crowd and sighed. “He never flirts with me. Not anymore, at least.”

“Your new boyfriend?”

“No,” she laughed and smacked your shoulder playfully. “Javier,” she answered, lowering her voice.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Although you hoped it wasn’t that obvious who you’d been looking at. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. And don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“Sure, but Javier was always fun to flirt with. It certainly made work more interesting. You know,” she took a sip of her martini, “the two of you seem awfully friendly lately. I thought you hated him.”

“I do,” you answered quickly.

“Well, don’t let Dr. Campbell hear you speak ill about his favorite lecturer.” She raised her brows over her class as the department chair approached the two of you. You stifled a sigh.

… . …

Javier sipped at his drink as he listened to Sofia Garcia regal him with the story of how she met her husband. He’d hardly spoken to the man before than night, but after five minutes with his loquacious wife, he felt like he knew his whole life story.

“I played on the Mexican women’s national team for a few years after college until I injured my knee. But it was a blessing. I was offered a coaching position here a week later and by the end of my first season we were engaged.” She held up her left hand where a modest diamond sat on her ring finger. “That was nearly fifteen years ago. Now he’s the only one who plays soccer.”

“Yeah,” Rafael scoffed, “I play in an adult league with my cousin and some old college friends. That hardly counts. She’s the real athlete.” He looked fondly on his wife who beamed back at him. Even Javier had to admit they made a handsome couple. And it had nothing to do with his expensive looking suit or her champagne dress. It was something about the way they looked at each other. they were easily better conversationalists than most of the people in that room. You weren’t kidding when you said academics only knew how to talk about journal articles and research funding. “You ever play, Peña? We’re actually looking for one more.”

Javier shook his head. “I played when I was a kid but that was a long fucking time ago.”

“Don’t worry, man, it’s not that serious. We drink the whole game. All you gotta do is pay for the keg when it’s your turn.”

Javier laughed, surprised by his answer. “I could get on board with that.”

The conversation moved on, but Javier was only half aware of whatever question he was being asked. Just over Rafael’s shoulder, he caught sight of you. With a red dress with thin straps draped across your form that left everything and nothing to the imagination, you looked… alluring.

“Hey, uh, you look like you could use a refill,” Rafael commented, pointing toward the bar where you were standing.

“Yeah,” Javier nodded, “I’ll catch you later. Nice meeting you, Sofia.”

“I hope to see you around, Javier.” She smiled kindly at him, but Javier was already on the move, swiftly cutting through the crowd as he contemplated the ways that he could get you alone.

“Whiskey. Dry,” he ordered, leaning against the bar next to you.

“How are you enjoying the evening, Professor Peña?” Debra simpered.

“Much better now that I’m talking to you lovely ladies,” he answered without missing a beat.

On cue, Debra’s whole face flushed bright red.

“I’ll have you know I’m spoken for now. Your charm won’t work on me anymore.”

“That’s too bad.” His eyes slid to you. And then up and down your body. “What about you, sweetheart?” He offered you the perfect set up on a silver platter. And you took it.

“Not in your wildest dreams, Peña,” you shot back. His lips quirked as he repressed a smile.

“Don’t you two ever get tired of antagonizing each other?” Debra scoffed before traipsing off. He was hoping that would work.

The bartender placed Javier’s drink on the counter and then he turned back to you, still admiring your dress. Now that he was near you, he noticed the fabric was a soft red velvet he wanted nothing more than to get his hands on.

“You looked like you were enjoying your conversation with Rafael.”

“He does some interesting work on South American politics,” he offered distractedly, his eyes snapped back up to yours. “I probably shouldn’t ask you to dance.”

You reeled back a little, as if the question surprised you. “Probably not. That might ruin the whole facade of me hating you.” He made a sour face as he looked at his glass in his hand, swirling the amber liquid a few times. “I wouldn’t have taken you for the dancing type, Javi.”

He grinned. “I love dancing.”

“You never take me dancing.”

“Fucking shame. I’m gonna start.” You beamed at him, uncaring, just for a moment, who saw. It was a smile nothing short of dazzling. He took a step closer. “You look stunning.”

“You drove me here.”

“I thought you were stunning then too. But you were wearing a coat and I didn’t get to see this.” He ran the back of his knuckles down the fabric of your dress just over that sensitive spot on your side he liked so much. “You were right. This is definitely worth it.”

“What if I told you there’s more,” you said unaffectedly, feigning interest in your empty glass. The mischievous look in your eyes when they met his confused expression gave you away. Gently, you brought his hand to your thigh, just under the hem of your dress, and his fingers instantly hooked around the strap of the garter belt holding your sheer stockings in place.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“What a way to go,” you cooed. His hand traveled up the strap to the apex of your thighs where he found little more than a thin piece of lace below the belt. “Careful,” you warned him, pushing his hand away.

Turning so that his body pinned you between him and the bar top and shielded you from the rest of your colleagues, he grasped your hand and brought it to the front of his pants “Can you feel what you do to me?” he said against the shell of your ear.

“That’s what I was hoping for.” Your smile was absolutely wicked.

“Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is not to kiss you right now?”

“Yes.” You squeezed him through his trousers. Javier might’ve looked remarkably calm, but he knew you felt his reaction. He steeled himself as he finished his drink and set the glass on the counter behind you.

“Follow me.”

… . …

Keeping a few steps behind him, you followed Javier back to the front of the club. You assumed he was leading you out to the car but apparently, he had something else in mind. He swung open the door to the coat check, since abandoned by the clerk now that all the guests had arrived and the party was in full swing. With some idea of what he had in mind, you hoped no one was inclined to leave early.

His mouth was on yours in an instant and as soon as the door was shut, you were pressed up against it.

“The coat closet at the holiday work party?” you asked in between fevered kisses. “Isn’t that a little cliché?”

“Honey,” he murmured against your neck as his lips moved lower and lower, “I know for a fact it turns you on when we fuck in public.”

His hand slipped underneath your dress again, following the same path as earlier, and he pressed his fingers against the lace covering your cunt, now soaked with your arousal. He pulled away to raise a brow at you, daring you to contradict him.

Instead, you palmed him again, finding him harder than before. “I’m not the only one,” you shot back. With your eyes locked on his, you dropped to your knees to loosen his belt and unbutton his trousers. Then you leaned forward to slowly pull the zip down – with your teeth.

“Fuck me” he gasped around a ragged exhale, his hips automatically bucking toward you. He watched you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, before he hauled you to your feet with a hand on either arm. “Fucking dirty girl.”

“Wanna be your dirty girl, Javi,” you sighed, batting your lashes at him. You wanted him unraveled and unrestrained.

“Yeah?” he asked with a hint of excitement in his voice, and you nodded, satisfied with the response you’d gotten from him. Before you realized what he was doing, he spun you around and hiked your skirt up over your ass, letting it bunch around your waist.

“Hey, be careful. This dress is vintage.”

He just laughed against your ear. “You should’ve thought of that before you started this.” With one hand on your hip to hold you up, he kicked each of your ankles to prompt you to spread your legs before hooking a finger under the band of your thong and sliding them to the side. “Damn,” he growled when his fingers met your wet cunt. “I think you’re ready for me.”

“I was ready for you the moment I saw you tonight,” you answered truthfully.

You felt his grin as he kissed the nape of your neck. He freed his cock and ran the tip through your folds. You knew better than to tell him not to tease you. That was part of it. That was what he enjoyed. He wanted you so strung out by the time he slipped inside you that you were already a mess and he knew just how to get you there. And that was exactly where you wanted to go.

He started to press inside you, slowly stretching you around him with each inch, and you delighted in the slight burn. Usually, he spent more time preparing you, but there was no time for that. Not when you were just hoping to finish fucking each other before someone came to collect their belongings.

You were wet and ready for him, but you were unable to stop the yelp that escaped you as he pushed in a little further.

“Quiet,” he snapped. Then, softly, he asked, “are you okay?”

You nodded. “It just takes a minute sometimes. You’re so big, Javi.” You felt him twitch inside you.

“You take me so well. This cunt was made for me.” Your ego burned bright at his praise and he slid in a bit more as you relaxed around him.

He held you, gently caressing you while you adjusted in what you assumed was a merciful act of patience. When you were ready, you rolled your hips to encourage him.

“Keep – shit – keep doing that. Feels so good on my dick.” You could imagine the debauched look on his face. You reveled in it even though you couldn’t see him. He reached around you to cup your pussy, fingers rubbing against your clit and following your movements as you circled your hips. You moaned in unison.

But it wasn’t enough. Not for you. Not for Javier.

“Hold on to something.”

His warning came just a moment too late. With a gasp, you fell forward clawing at the coats in front of you and fisting an expensive looking black peacoat in hopes of staying upright as he set a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck yes!” you whined.

“Are you even trying to stay quiet?” Javier hissed.

“Yes,” you replied weakly.

“Fucking liar.” You heard the smirk.

The hand playing with your clit moved to your mouth and he slipped two fingers past your lips. It effectively muffled your noises of pleasure as he pulled you down hard on his cock with every thrust. The only sound was the wet noise of him sliding in and out of your slick cunt and the slap of your stocking-covered thighs as they bounced against his. You felt that delicious pressure deep in your belly, right between your thighs, building steadily.

Until you heard a noise just outside the door and the two of you froze.

Without pulling out of you, Javier held you to his chest. As if that would somehow help. You could feel his heart beating against your back just as your own threatened to break through your ribs. Two sets of wide eyes watched the doorknob, waiting for any sign that someone on the other side was about to turn it. You held your breath as you listened carefully to the low voices murmuring, unable to tell who they belonged to or what they were saying. It was like they were hovering just outside the door. Taunting you.

Just as you were about to suggest redressing and making a run for it, Javier started moving in and out of you as a torturously slow pace. Despite the voices nearby, a small whimper escaped you. He shushed you gently. “Quiet, baby,” he whispered.

“But–”

“You wanted this.”

“Javi–”

“You wouldn’t have worn this” –he fingered the garter belt– “if you didn’t want to end up just like this.”

He was right, of course.

“What if–”

“I’m not going to let that happen.” You had no idea what he thought he was going to do if someone did catch the two of you, but he seemed confident enough for the both of you. Coupled with the easy rock of his hips, you relaxed into his hold. The truth was, as much as you liked the freedom of your home, you missed this. This thrill that you trusted only him to give you.

As soon as the conversation faded away, he resumed his previous pace, punching the air right out of your lungs.

“Yes! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you chanted, forgetting the precarious situation you were in only moments ago. The coil in your belly tightened as you neared your crest, and you could tell by his less than precise movements that Javier just as close. And then, right as you were about to fall apart on his cock–

Javier pulled out and spun you back around in one swift movement. Before you even knew what was happening, he yanked down your panties and came all over you. Jaw dropping, you watched him work his length until every last drop was on you. White spurts of cum marked you and pooled in the black lace, already dripping down your thighs to the tops of your stockings. You placed a hand on either of his shoulders to steady yourself as your legs threatened to give out under you and stared down at the mess. Somehow, you were more turned on than before. You felt like you would actually combust from arousal. He held your panties in place for a moment, admiring his work, before letting the elastic snap against your skin and drawing your attention upward.

His breaths were jagged, stuttering and uneven. His head tilted back, and he looked down his nose at you with dark eyes that shone with something feral. Something sacrilegious. He was flushed and panting but a smirk tugged on his lips as he tucked his cock away and belted his pants. “You said you wanted to be my dirty girl.”

You swore you could feel your last brain cell short-circuiting. You were hyperaware of the errant drop sliding down your thighs, but you couldn’t look away from him. “Always,” you promised quietly.

You kissed him with everything you had. Javier took it greedily.

“You’re so good for me. Letting me cum all over you,” he said breathlessly, still kissing you. “I want you to keep it all in your panties so that while you’re out there talking to those pretentious professors you can feel my cum between your legs. Okay?” You nodded and he graciously straightened your dress, letting it fall over your messy thighs. “You first.”

“But I didn’t–”

“Only good girls get to cum,” he replied quickly, apparently knowing exactly what you were going to say.

“Javi,” you scolded breathlessly and pointlessly, “I– I am your good girl.”

“Not tonight. You can’t keep quiet. Do you want everyone we work with to know I’m fucking you in this god damn coat closet?” You shook your head. “Don’t worry, honey, this was just foreplay. I’m not done with you yet. Tonight, I’m gonna make you cum so fucking hard you’re screaming my name at the top of your lungs. I can’t do that here, but I can get you ready.”

Your head buzzed.

Some filthy part of you liked that he’d cum all over you. That he wanted to do that to you. You didn’t even need to cum because it’d felt that good. And you knew by the look in his eyes that he planned on making up for leaving you wanting, for making a mess of you. You instinctively understood that this was part of it. That even greater pleasure waited for you if you could just be patient and... and trust him. And you did trust him. You knew he would take care of you.

If this was going to be your last night together for weeks — after hardly spending a night apart the last month and a half — then this was just the start.

“Okay,” you agreed. “But you’re a fucking tease, Javier Peña.”

He laughed with genuine mirth in his eyes. “You started it.”

“I’ll finish it,” you promised.

“I’m looking forward to that.”

You hesitated, teasing your bottom lip with your teeth. “Do we really have to go back out there?”

“It would be rude to leave so early.” You knew he didn’t care about staying. He was just tormenting you, playing a fucked-up game that had your head spinning like crazy. “But don’t worry. Eventually, I’ll take you home and fill you up. Just the way you like it. Now be a good girl” he said with a swat on your ass, “and go out first.”

Feeling defiant, you turned around and planted a kiss on his neck, purposefully leaving a smudge of red lipstick on his crisp white collar.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

“Maybe I do want everyone to know your mine.”

He wiped away the lipstick he smeared when he stuck his fingers in your mouth with the pad of his thumb. “You know. That’s all I care about.”

… . …

The two of you didn’t make it another hour. Fifty-two minutes to be exact. Javier knew because he kept checking his watch only to decide that time had crept to a halt. He wanted nothing more than to take you home and finish what he’d started. Every time he glanced at you across the room, he found you squirming as you tried to keep a straight face while chatting with some colleague, and he had to look away and recompose himself.

It hadn’t been his intention to leave you wet and wanting and covered in his cum. It’d just happened in the heat of the moment. Some wild idea that he’d decided to act on. But you… you’d liked it. And so did Javier.

In reality, fifty-two minutes wasn’t that long, but it was enough time to suck up to the school’s dean. If Javier was going to be put on display as his prized lecturer for the year, he’d make him listen to him in return. Even if he had to turn up the fake charm to a ten in front of a group of wealthy alumni.

“Here she is now,” Javier said, taking a hold of your elbow as you passed by, physically dragging you into the conversation. You shot him a confused look, but he just smiled at the dean.

“Ah, yes, professor,” Dean Dalton started, “It would seem you’ve made quite the impression on Agent Peña.”

Javier elected to ignore his choice of title.

“Really? I wasn’t aware.” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but he could tell you were happy.

“I’ve had the privilege of reading a few chapters of her upcoming book,” Javier explained. “Trust me, you’ll want to see what she’s planning next.”

“As luck would have it, I’ve been talking to a few of our more generous donors tonight. Perhaps we should meet when classes resume to discuss how the school might be able to help your research.” The dean clinked his glass against yours and ambled off.

“What did you just do?” you asked, disbelief lacing your voice.

“I told you I would help you.”

“Oh my God… thank you,” you said softly. You stared at him for a long moment and he just held your gaze. “Will you take you home now?”

“Yes.”

Without wasting another second, you turned on your heel and headed toward the entrance. He followed eagerly. “Wait.” You stopped suddenly and his chest hit your back. You peered at him over your shoulder. “Don’t forget our tradition.”

He quirked a brow in silent question and your eyes flicked to the bar in response. It clicked. “Got it,” he said with a grin. He swiped the first bottle of champagne he could reach. Something so expensive he couldn’t even imagine the price tag. Something neither of you could ever afford on an academic salary.

… . …

Javier drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your knee, drawing circles on your thigh over the sheer material covering your skin. Late on a chilly December night, the streets were empty, and the drive was easy. The city was unusually peaceful.

“I still can’t believe you pulled that off,” you murmured dreamily. He squeezed your knee in response.

A few minutes later, he’d stopped at a light when you quietly said his name. He turned to you and found you staring at him. You looked relaxed and happy. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you how handsome you look tonight. All dressed up for me,” you offered sweetly. “You’re absolutely breathtaking.”

“How much did you have to drink?” he deflected.

“One drink hours ago. Nice try, but I’m sober.” You laughed but your teasing tone gave way to something softer. “You really are the most beautiful man.”

In his periphery, the light changed, bathed the inside of the car in a bright green light. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your beautiful face. Not when such an open, vulnerable sincerity graced your features.

“The light’s green,” you whispered.

“I know.”

A small smile broke out on your face.

… . …

Behind you, Javier trailed soft, lazy kisses along the slope of your neck as he slowly unzipped your dress, letting it hang loose around you. Your eyes fluttered shut as he smoothed his hands down your exposed back, thumbs gently digging into your flesh to massage your tired muscles. Every kiss, every touch, stoked the fire he’d ignited inside you hours ago.

“Let it fall,” he murmured against your skin. You slipped the straps over your shoulders and the fabric pooled at your feet. Then you reached for the clasp of your bra. “Leave it. I’ll take it off when I want to.” You bit back a devilish smile as he continued his ministrations. His lips followed his hands down your spine, and you gasped when he placed a kiss on the small of your back.

“Can’t decide how I want you first,” he mused.

“I want your mouth on me.”

He kneaded the flesh of your ass as he placed the lightest kiss on one cheek. “It is.”

“Not there.”

At your complaint, he snapped the garter belt strap so it stung against your flesh. But a firm hand on your back urged you forward until you were kneeling on the bed and he mouthed your cunt through the lace. “Here?” he asked, voice muffled.

“Yes,” you moaned, desperate for more.

“Maybe I should clean the mess I made on your pussy.” Without waiting for an answer, he pulled the fabric away and sealed his mouth over your hot, wet core, drawing an inarticulate slew of curses from you.

Hands gripping the backs of your thighs right at the tops of your stockings, he alternated between sucking on your clit, teasing the little bundle of nerves between his lips, and fucking you with his tongue. The constantly changing pressure was as intoxicating as it was frustrating — it was never enough but plenty to keep you hovering right on the cusp.

Until he finally – finally – gave you what you needed most.

Holding a steady pace as he flicked his tongue over your clit, Javier pushed you right over the edge.

Unable to breath, unable to move, unable to even think, you sobbed, cunt still pulsing around nothing, when he unceremoniously flipped you over and entered you. He slid into your dripping heat easily. And somehow, your first orgasm rolled right into the second as his cock struck something magic inside you, sparking a whole new wave of pleasure.

“You can’t stop coming, can you?” he asked, grunting as he pounded into you.

It just kept going. And going. Wave after wave relentlessly rolling through you. Unceasing in the best way imaginable. Javier knew your body so fucking well. He was the only one who knew how to do this to you. “No,” you mewled deliriously, body still shaking under him.

He thumbed away a tear rolling down your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you were crying. His hand left your face to knead a lace covered breast. “You look so fucking hot.”

“Fuck me harder, Javi.”

He pulled out all the way and your hips lifted, chasing him, but he pushed your knees to your chest and shouldered between your legs. “You’re not going to be able to walk when I’m done with you.”

“Good. I wanna feel you for days.” you said, ignoring the pang in your heart that told you that you were going to miss him.

“Fuck,” he spat. Your cunt drenched his cock as he slipped back inside, and your breath hitched as he hit deeper at the new angle.

“Right there!” you cried, arching up against him, “oh, God, right there!”

“One more. Give me one more,” Javier demanded, lacing your fingers together and pining your hands above your head, “But not until I tell you.”

You nodded eagerly, happy to give him whatever he wanted. “I get to tell you when too. Please, Javi.”

“Whatever you want baby. You fucking earned it.”

He kept slamming into you and every stroke of his cock rubbed against your inner walls perfectly. You swore you could almost feel every ridge and every vein of his thick length as he fucked you. Your third orgasm was tantalizingly within reach. You just needed his blessing, and you’d break.

“Alright, baby,” he panted as he rocked his hips against yours, grinding his pelvis against your clit, “cum all over my cock.”

Just like that, that tight coil inside you he’d been winding up all night snapped, and you came for a third time with a wanton cry. His name tumbled from your lips repeatedly as your body writhed beneath him, cunt spasming around his cock.

“I need to cum,” he ground out, voice cutting through the haze of pleasure.

“Ask me nicely,” you teased when your senses had returned to you just enough that you decided it was your turn to play with Javier. You wanted it to be just as good for him as he made it for you.

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Baby, please.” Javier’s broken words trembling around the edges as he begged you. His brown eyes, eclipsed by his dilated pupils and wet around the edges, stared deeply into yours and you almost gave in.

“Don’t stop.”

He made a desperate sound but kept going, snapping his hips against yours harder and harder.

“Almost there, Javi. You’re doing so good for me,” you praised, encouraging him. His jaw clenched and you kissed his neck, sucking hard on the straining muscles. His hands gripped yours so tight it hurt, and his face screwed up as he panted with each thrust. “You can cum for me, Javi. Fill me up.”

His lips crashed against yours in a desperate gratitude, and his hips stuttered as he came hard. He gasped for breath even as your mouths moved messily together. His cock twitched inside you as he painted your cunt like you’d been patiently waiting for all evening, until his body gave out and he collapsed on top of you, still locked in an embrace.

“Was that good for you?” you asked. When you didn’t get an answer, you prodded his side. He startled, eyes suddenly blinking up at you.

“What?”

“I asked if that was good for you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that was... it’s always good with you but that was...” He trailed off and you thought he might’ve actually fallen asleep on you. “I’ve never cum so hard in my life. I think I fucking blacked out.”

“I didn’t know my pussy was that good.”

“Are you kidding me? I fucking love your pussy.” He was positively beaming at you. He cursed with a sigh as he laid his head back on your chest and you threaded your fingers through his damp locks, holding him close while you could.

… . …

You sat half in Javier’s lap in the middle of your bed, sheets strewn about from your previous activities, both completely naked but freshly showered. He moved his mouth against yours, tasting you, drinking you in until he was as lightheaded from your kisses as from the champagne. His hands roamed your body, touching you for no real reason other than to memorize your gentle curves. One hand cupped a breast and the other squeezed your hip, both moving slowly until they met to cradle your face.

He pulled away to look at you. No fancy dress, no jewelry, no make-up. Just you.

“Still stunning,” he whispered.

You smiled softly and pressed your lips to the bridge of his nose. “Still handsome,” you countered. Chills erupted across his skin, but you mistook his reaction. “Come here.” you pulled the blankets up as you settled back against the headboard. He followed, swiping the bottle of champagne off the nightstand. Without bothering with glasses, surely a disservice to something so expensive, he took a swig and handed it to you. It was bubbly and light and perfect for the evening.

“You never told me what you’re doing for the holidays.”

“Oh, nothing much,” you responded as you took the bottle from him. “Bev’s family celebrates Christmas. They always do gifts with the kids in the morning but then her mom and in-laws and whoever else in the family is around go over for a big dinner. She insists I come to keep her sane. Her mom and mother-in-law don’t exactly get along.”

“What about New Year’s?”

You took a long pull before sighing. “Well, I usually spend the night with Sunny watching old movies and drinking too much wine.” Your face pinched. “That sounds much sadder when I say it out loud.”

“You don’t mind being alone?”

“It’s been this way for years now.” You smiled, a rueful thing. “I’m used to it. I’m usually so tired after the quarter ends that I don’t mind the time alone.” You tried to brush it off, but he could hear the sadness in your voice.

“You could–” Javier stopped himself. “You could call. Anytime. I’ll give you my dad’s home number so you can reach me.”

That time your smile reached your eyes, crinkling the corners as you looked away bashfully. “That’s really sweet of you.” You reached for his hand and added, “I’ll call you at midnight in Laredo.”

“We’ll talk until midnight in Los Angeles.”

You curled up next to him before Javier could decipher your expression.

When he felt your breathing even out, surely sated from the sex and exhausted after the quarter, he pried the bottle from your grasp. He finished the last bit before setting it aside and switching off the lamp, careful not to disturb you.

Javier held you close, not unlike the way you’d held him the night before. He knew he needed to get his shit together. He didn’t want you to see that part of him. He needed to protect you from his past. But he didn’t know how to do that when he couldn’t even protect himself.

He flicked off the light and hoped for a peaceful sleep.

… . …

The first thing you noticed when you woke up the next morning was the dark bruise that you’d sucked onto Javier’s neck the night before. You ran your fingertips over it, outwardly cringing but inwardly, well, preening. This time it had been you who left those little love bites on his neck.

“Did you mark me?” he asked, his voice barely more than a quiet rumble. “Fucking felt that last night.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you answered, looking up at him as innocently as possible.

“Don’t lie to me,” he grumbled as his eyes blinked open. “You were a woman determined last night.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I liked it,” he grinned, but it faded quickly. “I forgot I was going home today. My dad’s picking me up at the airport.”

“Oh shit,” you laughed, burying your face against his chest.

“Don’t laugh. That’s not funny.”

“Maybe you should try buttoning your shirt like a normal person for once.”

In one smooth movement, he flipped you over and caged you beneath him. “You’re pushing your luck,” he tried to warn, but the grin on his face and the glint in his eyes betrayed him.

“What time is your flight?” you asked, soothing a hand across his face.

“One.” He glanced over at the clock. “It’s ten now.”

You wondered, just for a moment, if he would stay with you if you asked him to. If he would pass the holidays with you so you wouldn’t have to be alone. But that was foolish. And more than a little selfish. He had his family to go home to.

“You should probably go.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I should.”

He eased his hold on you but made no move to leave. Not until he’d placed a kiss on your lips and one on your forehead in a gentle goodbye.

... . ...

Thank you for reading! 💗

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin @pedropasscals @paintballkid711 @mistermiraclee @honeyand-roses

Curriculum Vitae Tags: @softpedropascal @roxypeanut @unstoppableforcce @technicallykawaiisoul @mrsparknuts @weirdowithnobeardo @seeking-a-great--perhaps @assultsofthought @arrowswithwifi @larakasser @romewritingshop @none-of-your-bullshit @the-bird-suit @magneticbucky @bbygrgu @luminarahan @buckstaposition @grapemama @emzd34 @itsilvermorny

Javier: @wander-lustbabe

Tag lists are always open.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #narcos #narcos fanfic #javier peña x you #fic: curriculum vitae

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baeklooming-day · 3 years

Text

Meet me at the game arcade | Baekhyun

𓍢 Summary: There is this boy at the game arcade who is determined to win not only the plushie, but you together with it.

Masterlist

𓍢 Mini-playlist 💖 Moodboard by @kjikaila

𓍢 Genre: 90s!AU, Fluff, Cheeky Baek is back (you know the thing!!)

𓍢 Word Count: 6.6k

𓍢 A/N: Big credit to my beloved Tokyo, because I used to hang out at game arcades after school and often cute boys could be found there. 😇

Purple-ish, violet-ish, even blue-ish looking twinkling beams were soaking through the two lonely, candy floss bearing resemblance to fluffish clouds which appeared to cover the city beneath for a little while.

It wasn’t even summer anymore, but the sun seemed to be in a mood to let the light spill on everything beneath, letting little sparkles of vitamin D play on the walls of buildings, shining through the glass in windows, gleaming on all these colorful advertisements plastered around the district and making it seem as if the city was floating in the glinting sensation, warm light reflecting all possible kinds and shades of beautiful lilac color palettes.

Usually, you wouldn’t be the one to appreciate a similar weather very much, but given that the last two weeks had been nothing but wholly rainy and generally anything but pleasant in terms of weather outside, you found yourself being happy to be able to welcome the prickling sunlight on your skin.

You rested your chin on your knuckles, slowly closing your eyes and letting a lazy smile fall onto your scarlet tinted lips. You considered yourself lucky enough that you usually managed to arrive in class before all of your classmates, given that in that manner you could always pick the best seat without having to rush through the hallways to reach the classroom and dash to your desired desk.

And today, after all those gloomy days soaked in cold raindrops and weighing dust grey clouds, you found your seat to be even more than perfect.

The classroom wasn’t big, it was actually way smaller than you would like it to be, but as if to recompense that it had really large windows. And large windows meant a lot of sunlight to pour into the room through them, an obvious fact of which you couldn’t be more content about as you sat comfortably in the penultimate seat right beside one of those windows.

You had stopped paying attention to the lesson for what already felt like a whole thirty minutes ago, the dancing sunbeams only making you feel lazier and also kind of sleepy, completely switching off your usual concentration. You continued letting your face bathe in the pleasant sun rays which, now playfully peeking through the glass were gracing the monotonous classroom in cheerful gold shimmers. Your thoughts in the back of your mind started to slowly mix together with your teacher’s soft voice speaking about the last pages of your Japanese lecture in the background of which, right in that moment, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care about.

Your classmates were surprisingly quiet today, and in that current state you would probably soon drift away into your own personal dreamland even further, if not the little vibration coming from your phone placed under your hand on your desk.

For a split second you almost got a mini heart attack as the sudden text message made your pastel purple Nokia 3310 let out some rattling sounds as it moved ever so slightly on the wooden surface of your desk. You looked around a little bit startled, hoping that nobody noticed the brief faint noise.

Pulled back into reality, you quickly slid the device behind your equally purple colored pencil case, unblocking the screen with a click of one button and checking the received SMS. You felt a wide smile spreading on your lips as you read the text, it being from your friend announcing to you that her classes ended earlier today, and that she would be waiting for you to join her outside by the school entrance.

As you threw a quick glance at both the clocks on your screen and on the wall above the door, you found yourself seriously envying your friend, because it looked just as if she was always getting the cooler and chiller teachers who were actually able to understand that on the last lesson on Friday the kids weren’t the most likely to sit still and obediently follow the lesson anymore. Also given that today’s schedule, just like every other Friday which was simply laughable in your honest opinion, was absurdly long. Your lessons extended from eight in the morning until past three in the afternoon, which compared to the earlier weekdays you just refused to acknowledge.

You let out a deep sigh as another long minute had passed on the clock, mentally begging the time or whoever or whatever might be in charge of time management in the universe to quicken it up a bit.

Almost fifteen minutes left until the long awaited, two days freedom, also commonly known as the weekend. Just like everybody else, you were always impatiently waiting for the last lesson to be finally over and to let you hang out with some friends, and do other longed for fun activities for which you unfortunately didn’t have any time during the normal school week.

Until just now, you had always been included in the casual hangouts at the mall with your wide group of school friends, in going to the theater to check out the latest movie releases, or meeting up at your, by now beloved, cute small diner to eat some cherry cakes which quickly became popular around the area. But as of recently, the loud ringing sound on Fridays which announced the end of the lessons and beginning of the weekend, totally changed its meaning for you.

You weren’t as thrilled as you saw the large advertisement for the opening of a brand new game arcade for the first time on your way home one day, but as soon as you and your friend Miko decided to quickly see what it was all about and peeked inside on the big opening day, you already knew that you would visit and spend your coins at that place much more often than anyone could even imagine.

It was one of the branches belonging to SEGA group, it wasn’t any super large game arcade but at the same time it also wasn’t the smallest you had ever been in.

It was just ideal, and managed to balance perfectly the two things which you used to be crazy about the most when you were a little younger.

With that being said, the new game arcade was divided into more or less two sections, one being filled with all kinds of games starting with The Legend Of Zelda and ending on Pokémon, Super Mario, and many, many more in between. The second section was a little bit different, but not less interesting, perhaps only overlooking the fact that most of the time it tended to be a lot more nerve-wracking than you could ever expect from its harmless and pretty appearance.

The free space was filled with all kinds of plushie and toy automats, the whole room being so eye-catching and colorful that it was almost impossible to just pass by without giving it a proper look. It had literally everything you could ever dream of, soft and lovely teddy bears in every possible color, dolls, game characters, manga figures, even little charms which you could attach to your keys or your bag.

Truly a magical place flowing with milk and honey, if not the one unnerving fact that very often it was literally impossible to get the doll you wanted out of the automat at first try. Of course, it wasn’t such a big deal given that one turn costed exactly one hundred yen which wasn’t a handful of money after all. But if you calculated all your losses and all your future, probably failed as well, attempts together, you were very likely bound to leave at least around one thousand yen at the game arcade for literally nothing in return.

Sometimes you couldn’t hold yourself back from wondering that maybe that was the secret of the success of game arcades, and that the companies designed the automats like that on purpose to always drop the toy before it could even reach the hole and land safely in your hands.

There were times where you would loose even more than a thousand yen in an attempt to win the plushie you wanted, almost throwing your wallet against the glass as it became always much lighter and lighter with passing of each failed round.

There were times like this at the very beginning of that arcade fever, but after a while you found yourself becoming always better and better at fishing out all those dolls and bears. As the time flew by, you also found your bedroom nearly starting to drown in all those soft joys of every childhood.

But you didn’t really care.

And as soon as you got a notice that there was a new plushie automat to be about to be installed in the game arcade, you just knew that you needed to try it out immediately with the first better opportunity.

Which just came perfectly today.

You almost let out a squeak of joy as the bell finally rang, announcing the long awaited end of the last Friday’s lesson.

You quickly collected all your belongings from your desk and your seat, swinging your lilac bag over your shoulder and rushing out of the classroom in the direction of the stairs.

Luckily enough, you managed to dash through the corridor and down the stairs before the crowds of other students could block you.

As you reached the exit of the school building, you saw Miko standing right in front of it, her back turned at you. She was lightly swinging to the left and to the right, probably listening to some music on her brand new MP3 player she’d been talking about lately.

A little mischievous smile fell on your soft lips as a marvelous idea popped up in your head.

You took a few steps forward, careful to be quiet but, considering the fact that the music in her earphones was probably blasting, you didn’t exactly need to. You slowly pushed the glass door open, sneaking up on her and swiftly throwing your hands before her eyes to cover them.

„Holy freak!” Miko let out a startled scream, gaining a muffled laugh from you. „Who’s this? Y/N?” She started to turn her head to one side and to another, making you chuckle even more at the sight.

„It’s me. Mario.” You said, still covering her eyes and trying not to laugh out loud, seeing that you were visibly in a great mood today.

„And I’m Luigi. Can I get my vision back now, please?” She said, placing her hands on yours and pulling them away.

„Do you have enough ready money for the afternoon?” You asked, moving to stand in front of her.

„No duh, I’ve got exactly ten of one hundred yen coins just for the occasion.” She held up her blue wallet for you to see, the sound of loose coins bumping into each other audible as she gently shook it. „And I’m not going to spend a single yen more today, last weekend was fly but I became poorer of a whole six thousand.”

You sent her a scrutinizing look. „And you really think that it will be enough? You know, I’ve already told you before that they have a new automat and stuff.”

„Yes, you have, but still. If I don’t get the doll I want after two tries, I’m bouncing. And I will play Super Mario for the rest of the evening.”

„As if! I know you Miko, you will get just as addicted as every other time.” You let out a laugh, grabbing your friend’s hand and pulling her forward together with you.

„No, I’m telling you!”

The two of you continued to chatter along as you walked in the direction of the game arcade. It wasn’t that much of a long walk, knowing that it was located just a few streets away from your school.

The sun had yet quite an amount of time to start setting, but as you walked between the buildings decorated with bright and colorful advertisements of all possible kinds, it started to throw even more beams which reflected all those purple, blue, and yellow colors, surrounding you with a fairy like atmosphere in the afternoon hours.

„You know, last time as I was in the arcade I asked which dolls will the new automat have, and they told me that it would be supposed to have teddy bears, and-” You talked, being completely caught up in your own bubbling excitement about the new gain in the game arcade.

„Teddy bears?” Miko interrupted your flowing thoughts. „Y/N, you’ve already got like, a whole room of teddy bears. Not mentioning that last time you won not one, but TWO identical Totoro plushies and a Sailor Moon doll, too.” She rolled her eyes, giving you a questioning look. „You own a whole load of them. A whole storage! I’m actually asking myself if there is anything in the entire arcade what you haven’t got at home yet.”

„Well, I mean, that new automat is supposed to have a panda bear plushie and a plain white teddy bear, so, you know, I need to enrich my collection with these two.” You said, reaching your hand to your bag to pull out your phone.

You failed to notice the small group of boys, more or less around your age, walking past you and directing themselves straight into the game arcade building which finally came into your view.

You were just about to answer a text message from one of your other friends, when you were rapidly pulled back into reality with a not so gentle nudge to your side.

„What-” You turned your head to your left to look at Miko, question marks visible in your eyes as you were met with your friend’s amazed expression. „What? Why did you stop all of a sudden?”

„Y/N, I think you don’t see what I’m seeing. Look.” She pointed her finger at some point in the distance, a little blush coloring her cheeks.

You followed where she was pointing, finally noticing the group of boys from earlier which you failed to see.

There were four of them altogether, standing before the open arcade entrance and talking eagerly. Two of them were really tall, whilst the other two were rather short in their height, but all of them were wearing plain white tees. Your eye caught one of the shorter boys, who as the only one among them was wearing a blue bomber jacket with white prints. He had what you would call a baby face, his features were soft, or at least you could observe that much standing a few meters away from him. His hair was of a chocolate brown color, and as his voice reached your ears, you had to admit that it sounded truly so smooth like velvet.

You felt your own two cheeks warming up a little, a sensation which you didn’t like even a bit, as the boy locked eyes with you, his wide smile immediately disappearing from his lips only to be replaced by an expression of awe.

You stood there completely frozen in your spot, clenching your purple Nokia in your hand and feeling slightly flabbergasted by the whole sudden situation, not really knowing what was going on.

The last thing you saw before you were harshly pulled back into reality once again, was the other three boys looking questioningly at their friend who’s eyes were fixed on you, soon the entire group looking right at you.

And then you heard it, the loud ‘ooooooh’, ‘damn’, and ‘oh my god’ followed by the three of them lightly hitting the shoulders of their friend, starting to shake him and becoming even louder when he didn’t react, instead still looking at you.

When you finally snapped out of the weird trance, you quickly turned to your side to Miko who was now covering her mouth to prevent the invasive giggles from escaping.

„Oh snap.” You only said.

„Y/N, THIS, this is exactly what I’ve been talking about.” She said. „You are always so immersed in the games that you totally fail to notice all those cute boys being around!” She almost exclaimed the last words, stomping her both feet on the ground repeatedly, for some reason visibly excited.

„Well that was hella weird.” You said, still trying to process what had just happened. „Do you know them?”

„Um, well, I mean-” She started, now her being the one to grab your hand and pull you forward. „I keep my eyes always wide open, you know. And I just happened to see them at the game arcade the last time we were there. That hottie in a blue jacket seemed to have taken an instant liking to you back then already, but we bounced out too quickly for them to approach us.” She blabbered, instantly becoming a thousand times more cheerful than before.

The two of you were coming always nearer to the entrance of the arcade, and what followed always nearer to the group of boys who, now noticeably quieter, were still standing in their spot.

With your left hand still being held by Miko and your right hand still holding onto your phone, you tried your best to avoid the gaze of the said boy in a blue jacket as the two of you continued moving closer to the entrance.

What was his deal anyway?

„You know what Miko, did you take a good look at them when you said that you saw them before?” You asked your friend, feeling your cheeks heating up once again as you accidentally locked eyes with the boy one more time. „I mean, maybe from a close up they’ll be total monets.” You added, not even knowing what you were trying to convince yourself about, because as you came always closer you had to admit that the said group were even better looking from up close.

„Awe, Y/N, always the negatory. I’m sure they’re not some scrubs too, though. Besides, just look at them now.” She said, an ounce above a whisper. „They could totally be in a boy group with those looks.”

And unfortunately, you couldn’t deny, as with every following step you were getting a more detailed view, as well as you were feeling more and more being practically eaten by those two dazzling eyes which didn’t leave you even for a brief moment.

You just wanted to get inside the arcade and concentrate yourself on the new plushie automat, not on dealing with some random group of boys who apparently enjoyed staring at girls way too much for your liking.

That was right, as said it was too much for YOUR liking, but Miko didn’t seem to mind at all.

Even the whole opposite, she seemed to be having the time of her life, particularly when the other shorter boy with big cat-like eyes sent her a dazzling smile.

„Oh snap, oh snap, oh snap, did you see that, Y/N, I think I forgot how to breathe.” A scarlet blush spread on her cheeks, whilst she nervously squeezed your hand. „That guy is literally so handsome.”

„Girl, Miko-” You started gently, but as you looked at her frozen in her spot with literal hearts in her eyes, you knew she was already gone to make some lovey-dovey unthinkable scenarios in her head.

You talking wasn’t probably going to do much anyway, but you needed to snap her out of it.

You tried to gently pull her with you and finally enter the arcade. „Miko.”

Nothing.

„Miko-”

Still nothing, and as you threw a quick glance at the boys, you saw that the one with big eyes was continuing to unceremoniously smile at your friend, meanwhile she was returning all those candy smiles.

What was it, a smiling contest?

No, you thought, that was completely stupid.

„Miko, I swear-” You snapped your whole arm into the direction of the entrance to bring her attention back to the arcade a little too harshly, forgetting that you were still holding your phone in that hand.

In the result, your phone was sent flying out of your hand all the way across the sidewalk which separated the two of you from the group of boys, before you could do anything to stop it.

You watched in terror as it ended its small flight right in front of the boy in blue jacket, landing with a loud thud on the ground by his feet.

„MY NOKIAAAA!!” You yelled, not caring at all about the other people around who were now giving you weird or startled looks.

„Y/N-” Miko seemed to finally notice what was going on when you let go of her hand, and started to take large steps closer to the boy to collect your phone.

You could clearly see it as his face immediately lit up and his eyes rapidly fell on your purple Nokia laying on the ground, apparently an idea coming to his mind.

„For the love of-” You mumbled through your teeth, as you watched him bend over to pick up your item. „... all the snaps given.”

You let out a low sigh as you ruffled your silky hair with your hand, starting to finally walk into the direction of the boy, being extra careful not to accidentally lock eyes with him once more.

You had always been that exact type of person who wanted to avoid any unnecessary interaction with other people, in particular if you had other, significantly more important plans ahead of you and didn’t want to lose your time.

That could be an issue right now, you thought to yourself as with every step closer to him his smile grew wider, not even trying to conceal it.

„Um-” You started, as you stood right in front of his frolic face. „That would be mine.” You said, raising your finger up to point at your phone.

Your eyes quickly fell on the purple surface and the screen, trying to thoroughly inspect if any possible damages had been done by the fall.

The boy seemed to notice the visible concern im your eyes, letting out a soft, melodic chuckle whilst handing your Nokia to you. „I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” He said. „This model is practically indestructible. Lasts longer than most relationships.”

His remark made you raise one eyebrow at him, squinting your eyes ever so slightly whilst you retrieved your phone. „What a nice comparison. And you’ll be speaking out of experience, I assume?”

You were absolutely sure that your unpleasant comeback would make him immediately not wanting to continue to talk to you, but to your surprise you couldn’t be more wrong. Instead of a sign of dislike, you could make out a sparkle of fondness shining even brighter in his brown eyes.

Weird, you thought.

“No, I’m not.” The boy replied, smiling contentedly. “I was actually quietly hoping that mine would outlive any model of Nokia 3310.” He added, giving you a smile sweeter than the previous one.

In response, you merely granted him a brief look before taking a step away, intending to finally enter the arcade. “Good luck with that.”

Trying to completely conceal the awareness of his glowing presence still behind you, you quickened your pace, basically dashing through the open doors to the inside of the colorful arcade and not even bothering to wait for Miko anymore.

As soon as you went inside you were met with a lot of frolicsome lights and sparkles, the small alleyways between all sorts of games being flooded with light coming from the screens of game automats, each one of them showing the start menu of a different popular game on the lambent display.

It didn’t take you too long to find the longed for, newest, totally polished and even more so inviting plushie automat which has been continuously on your mind this whole time, basically calling out your name to you as soon as you finally came to a view of it.

It was lovely, appearing even more so enthralling to you in real life than as it did on the mere advertisements plastered around the arcade.

Without losing a single minute, you took your wallet out of your bag and took a large step closer to the automat, your eyes stopping on every plushie trying to decide which one to go for.

Finally, they stopped on a cute small panda bear which instead of being just plainly black and white, was purple and white.

That was the one.

You opened your wallet, taking one shining coin of one hundred yen worth.

Just as you were about to throw it into the automat, you were startled by a sudden familiar voice coming from right behind you.

“Hey home skillet, why did you run off like that?” Miko materialized herself next to your ducked down figure, leaning on the glass of the plushie automat.

You looked up at your friend, feeling a little guilty for doing so. “My bad? But I really didn’t want to talk to that dude in a blue jacket.” You murmured, bringing your attention back to the purple panda.

Miko scrunched her nose, letting out a loud sigh. “Why are you always rejecting all the sweet boys? He even picked up your phone for you, come on.” She said, before startling you again with a sudden squeak. “BUUUUT! Y/N-” She started, covering her mouth to prevent the next invasion of uncontrollable giggles from escaping, jumping up and down in her spot and causing her black soft locks to slide on her forehead. “ That hottie with those big eyes. Oh my god Y/N. I actually talked to him just now, and guess what he told me.” She paused for a brief moment, only to let out another squeak. “His favorite game is also Super Mario! And he asked me if I wanted to play it with him today, oh my god, Y/N.” Miko was breathing so quickly, that as you looked up at her once again, you started to become honestly worried if soon she would start to hyperventilate.

“And I assume you said yes?” You asked, but you already knew the answer anyway.

“Of course! I mean, did you see him? A model!” She answered.

“So you plan on leaving me all alone here?” You asked. “Are his friends still here?” You added, carefully peeking from behind the plushie automat you were still ducked down by.

Your eyes widened in terror as you sneaked a look and spotted the group walking down the aisle.

“I won’t leave you! But just let me have this one? You know how much I would love to get a proper date!” She replied, throwing longing looks in the direction of the boys. “And Y/N, if that blue hottie comes to talk to you, please be nice.” She added quickly.

“Miko, do you perhaps know something that I don’t know?”

“What? Noooooo, not at all, what makes you think that?”

You let out a small sigh, rolling your eyes at your friend. “Whatever.”

You brought your attention back to the display with all the plushies inside, finally inserting the coin into the automat and starting to try to fish out the purple panda bear.

You were still sensing a presence next to you, so thinking it was just Miko who hasn’t left yet, unbothered and completely oblivious, you continued to give all your concentration to the little plush bear you already almost had clasped.

Just as the bear was nearing to fall into the designed hole and right into your hands, the metal claws let it go in a trice, in effect the bear bouncing back, away from the hole.

Unbelievable.

A soft snicker reached your ear, so without even caring to turn your head you just rolled your eyes again. “Very funny Miko, you know that it usually never works at the first try very well yourself.” You said, taking out another one hundred yen coin to insert and try again.

“Sometimes it does.” Said a velvet like voice.

You immediately snapped your head to the left, your eyes widening one more time as you realized that it wasn’t Miko standing next to you, but the boy in a blue jacket.

You involuntarily squinted your eyes at him, looking up. “You again.”

He seemed to be completely immune to you not being the nicest, instead jumping straight into any normal conversation you would usually have with a friend.

Out of all people, and out of all days, why you and why today?

Guess you would never know.

“Your name is Y/N, right?” The boy asked. “Your friend with the black hair told me when we were still outside.” He continued, his melodic voice filling the space between the two of you, for some unexplainable reason making you kind of distracted and causing you to drop the purple panda once again, failing at the second attempt to win it.

You sent the boy a heavy glare. “And your name is...?”

“I’m Baekhyun.” He replied with a sweet smile.

You decided to ignore him, taking the already third coin out of your wallet and inserting it again.

“What are you about to get?” Came yet another soft question.

“The purple panda.” You replied briefly.

Baekhyun’s eyes left your figure for a transient while, to fall on the plushies inside the automat. “Well, guess what I would be about to get?” He said.

“On my nerves.” You murmured quietly, but loudly enough for him to hear.

You weren’t looking at him anymore so you obviously couldn’t have noticed it, but even when he received nothing but snarky replies from you, the boy was all smiles with little dazzles dancing in his brown eyes. “I actually hoped that I would get on your calendar.” He said, giving you a winsome smile as soon as you graced him with your attention again. “On a weekend when you’d be free... Or after school...” The cheekiness audible in his soft voice just seconds ago wasn’t as strong as it was anymore as he said these words.

In the result to his question, you scrunched your nose, looking up at him. “You don’t even know me. You’ve literally seen me one single time.” You said.

The moment you said that, you observed as the cheeky look fell back on his soft features. “Dante wrote forty two chapters of a whole opera for Beatrice after he saw her one time on the street, so I think I would be reasonably justified to ask you out like that.” He smiled at you in the most candy smile anyone could probably ever master.

What in the world?

“You know Dante? Are you into literature?” You asked, a little flabbergasted and surprised, knowing that most of the boys your age weren’t particularly interested in the art of similar old literary works.

That was definitely new.

“I like art in general.” Baekhyun said.

“So, how do you feel about art?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Baekhyun’s eyes seemed to have a whole million of sparkles dancing in them as he replied. “Well, I think you are really cool to talk to.”

Wait-

“What the freak man.” Was the only thing which you managed to say after you connected the dots of what he was really referring to.

This boy surely was having the time of his life right now.

You brought your attention back to the plushies, trying to suppress a muffled quiet scream which threatened to leave your lips because, even at the third try, the purple panda was dropped back into the soft pile of other plushies as if totally mocking you and your efforts to win it.

You aggressively grabbed the ziplock of your wallet, practically snatching a new one hundred yen coin and slamming it into the automat, determined to win it this time.

In that moment, it was a serious matter of life and death for you, and being completely focused on that one thing before you, you were also still completely oblivious to your surroundings.

If only you knew how your small act of chagrin to the automat and throwing the coin inside in a total state of fury made Baekhyun’s heart melt even more for you, thoughts of how cute you were flowing through his mind.

“How many more times are you going to try this?” He asked.

“You know, I’m actually really good at this. Today just doesn’t seem to be my best day.” You replied, without giving him one look.

The claws clasped around the purple panda once again, lifting it up and sliding slowly to the direction of the hole, through which you really hoped it would finally fall out this time.

“I already own a whole room of plushies and dolls I won in the arcade, so this should be no sweat.” You added.

“Well that’s phat.” Baekhyun said, his voice always sounding like a smooth velvet which, for some reason was becoming always more difficult to ignore for you.

“I know.” You said. “But I’m totally buggin’ right now.”

You watched the purple panda hanging just above the destined hole, being completely sure that you would finally win. You threw a content look at Baekhyun next to you, resting your elbows on the automat. “It’s already falling, you see? I’m da bomb. All that and a bag of chips-” You interrupted mid sentence, when to your downright disbelief the panda was let loose into the hole, only to somehow bounce out of it right back into the pile of other plushies, leaving you at the fourth failed attempt of winning. “You sick piece of-” You said through your clenched teeth, clutching your wallet in your hand and trying to stay calm.

You threw a murderous look at the automat, then glanced back at the wallet held in your hand before opening it again and taking out the fifth coin, throwing it into the automat without thinking twice.

You quickly guided the claws to grab the purple panda, but then again, as if to totally make fun of you, it was let dropped back into the pile. “Son of a SCONE.” You said, very lightly hitting your small fist on the glass.

You were brought back to reality by the same velvet voice which was distracting you just moments ago. “Y/N.”

“What.”

“You haven’t given me an answer yet.” Baekhyun said softly. “Will you go on a date with me?”

“No.” You replied.

“You are being so mean today.”

“I’m mean everyday.” You added, standing up from the position you were in this whole time. “You have a really unusual way of approaching, you know?”

“Well, everyone has their own ways. And everyone has their own idea of perfection.” Baekhyun said, looking right into your eyes. “Mine just happens to be you.”

You shot him a tired look. “What the freak.” You said. “Listen, um-”

“Do you know what bees make?” He suddenly interrupted you with this random question.

Without even thinking too much, you simply replied. “Honey?”

You watched as his eyes lit up again. “Yes, dear?”

You were left there completely done with the world as it was and speechless, just standing before him and looking at his smiling, glowing face, visibly happy with his own lines.

Why wouldn’t he just give up?

You didn’t even know anymore what to say to him, seeing that apparently he had a comeback line ready for each and every of your attempts to shove him away.

“You are impossible.” You said.

You observed as Baekhyun’s eyes quickly wandered to the plushie automat and as he bit his lip, another idea visibly coming to his mind. “Will you please say yes if I win that purple panda for you?” He asked, his brown eyes full of glinting hope.

“I would like to see you try. If I couldn’t win this, you won’t be able to either.” You replied.

“If you’re so sure about it, then just agree?” He said, a little smile still visible on his lips.

You crossed your arms on your chest, him instantly mirroring your gesture. “Fine. And if you fail, you will stop asking me out.” You said. “Three attempts.” You held up three fingers.

“Fine.” He said, holding up a shining one hundred yen coin before putting it into the automat.

He ducked down in the spot in which you were previously, laying his left arm on the free surface and lazily resting his chin on it, his right hand managing the little controller on the automat, effortlessly.

In complete and utter terror, you watched as the purple panda bear successfully fell into the hole right away, soon swiftly falling out of the automat straight into Baekhyun’s hands.

You couldn’t help it but let out a gasp of shock.

“No.” You whispered shaking your head, not believing that he just got it at the first try, because how probable could it even be?

“Yes.” Baekhyun held up the purple panda, flashing you the brightest, happiest smile you have seen on him that day. “I told you, sometimes it does work at the first try.”

You just stood there, not able to say a word, still looking at him in a complete disbelief.

Again, how probable could it be?

“I, um-” You really tried to say a full normal sentence, but it seemed like even the language decided to sabotage you today.

Before Baekhyun said anything else, he gently placed the panda in your hands, in the result his fingers softly brushing yours, may it be on purpose or just accidentally. “Please just say yes?”

As much as you despised this whole thing, you were a girl of your word, and you made a deal.

Which you obviously lost, now that you were holding the purple panda bear in your hands.

Even so, looking at Baekhyun’s dazzling brown eyes, you still wanted to give him the benefit of doubt, even though you were perfectly aware that it was pointless at this stage.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he quickly interrupted you before you could say even one word. “You won’t regret it.” He added, a little faint plea visible in his eyes as they looked at you.

You felt one corner of your mouth slightly lifting in a half smile. “What if I will?” You asked, meeting his chocolate gaze.

“You won’t.” He quickly said. “Just give me a chance to win you over.”

He asked you for a chance, but deep down you started to feel that he already was winning you over with his impossible sweetness and persistence.

But that was something which he didn’t need to know right now, was it?

You held the panda plushie closer to yourself, burying your face in it for a brief moment to hide the bubblegum blush which was shamelessly spreading on your dewy cheeks totally against your own will.

“I like onigiri with umeboshi filling.” You said. “And dark mocha.”

A honey-dripping smile fell on Baekhyun’s lips as his chocolate eyes traveled across every feature on your face. “What an unusual pair.” He said, the smile never leaving his lips and eyes.

“If you want to date me, you need to be prepared for weird combos like that.” You said, facing away as you felt the blush becoming stronger, your entire cold barrier finally giving in into the charm of his smile.

“I’m thrilled to know more.” He grinned winsomely.

And who would think that when you left the game arcade, you would have gotten your plushie and a cute boy together with it?

Undisputedly not you.

But sometimes, sometimes the universe put things on your way, things which you would least expect to cherish the most.

Author’s End Note: Thank you for reading! Remember to REBLOG if you liked it! Also, I tried to build in some classic ‘90s phrases into dialogues, so let me know if I did well or not!! 💖 Maybe it won’t be the end of the ‘90s AU. 💜

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smash-chu · 3 years

Text

Updated the iceberg with some suggestions + more stuff i came across during research~ Might be doing a video to go along with it, cause it'd be fun (i have been capturing footage, so it'll likely end up happening :3 )

Explanations for each thing can be found below:

-Level 1-

The TV show - Some people’s first exposure to the franchise was the TV show, made to go alongside the games as a sort of advertisement. It was made by 4Kids and had a total of 2 seasons, starring the 4 main characters: Hudson Horstachio, Franklin Fizzlybear, Paulie Pretztail and Fergy Fudgehog.

Rare games easter eggs - There are plenty of easter eggs to other Rare games throughout Viva Piñata, the easiest ones to note are the broken arcade cabinets found in the first game as well as the various nods to Banjo Kazooie - such as the Bird and Bear statue, Mumbo statue, Breegull backpack and Bottle’s Glasses.

Stardos is Dastardos - The game never tells you this directly, but it’s an easy and obvious conclusion to make.

Twingersnaps and Fourheads - Without using a guide or looking it up you may actually be baffled on how to acquire these piñatas in game. There is no obvious hint in game to tell you to hit the Syrupent egg before it hatches on the third bounce, which means you either have to figure it out through experimentation or by looking it up.

Leafos False Rumors - Leafos is meant to give you good advice to help you out while you play the game if you talk to her, however not all information she gives is true. Some rumors include putting a Badgesicle in water will turn it into a Sweetooth, feeding a Doenut to a Pretztail turns it into a Mallowolf and so on. None of these actually work.

Piñatas aren’t permanently broken - When a piñata is broken it is magically repaired, at least when on Piñata island, reforming at the edge of a garden when broken at one. It is stated that piñatas are repaired after having been sent to parties, which would potentially mean that piñatas only magically repair themselves when on the island.

-Level 2-

The PC Port - Not very well advertised, there was a PC port released for the first Viva Piñata game. There are a couple of differences between the port and the original Xbox 360 release, which are touched upon later.

Piñatas are genderless - Technically no piñata is given a gender in game, all piñatas function the same. While in the show gendered piñatas are present it could potentially be that piñatas are naturally genderless and then if they are sapient can choose genders which fit their identity.

Burger king toys - A bundle of burger king exclusive plastic toys of piñatas were made and sold alongside the children's meals, some of the piñatas were Elephanilla, Sparrowmint, Goobaa and so forth. These toys are nowadays rare and sought after by people who collect the very small amount of official Viva Piñata merch that exists.

Wildcards - Wildcard piñatas are unique piñatas that have a feature which makes it stand out next to others of its species. There are a total of 3 variants of wildcards per piñata, some being exclusively gained through trading piñatas online. In the original game wildcards were extremely rare and there was only one variant, while they were made easier to acquire in TiP.

Both the games and show are canon - Just what it says, according to the creators both the games and show are canon to Viva Piñata lore. This makes for some strange implications, but that's for later.

TiP Fence Glitch / Exploit - A sort of well known glitch often used while playing Viva Piñata Trouble in Paradise. Fences normally do not stop Ruffians and Professor Pester from entering your garden, as they simply destroy them when they’re in the way. However, if arranged in a specific pattern in the area next to the volcano they enter from, the fence will make them permanently stuck. They will be stopped at the very edge of the garden at the fence, unable to properly enter or do anything. This can occur unintentionally as well in both the original game and TiP, as sometimes Ruffians and Professor Pester get stuck on seemingly random things and become unable to do anything.

Domesticated piñatas becoming un-domesticated - A strange difference between the original game and TiP is the fact that you can no longer buy domesticated piñatas from the Paper Pet’s store. Instead of being purchased they simply appear in the wild like any other wild piñata, whether this implies that these piñatas are no longer considered domesticated or is just a game design choice is unclear.

Jardinero and his family - In game a big part of the npc cast are Jardinero and his children, Leafos, Seedos, Storkos and Dastardos. They all play important roles in terms of the game mechanics, but also have their own stories which can be read about in the journal. The journal also mentions the character Mother, which is Jardineros wife and mother of their children. She is a seafaring adventurer that occasionally came to visit Piñata Island to see her husband and kids.

-Level 3-

Dastardos ghost theory - Because of Dastardos more ghostly abilities, such as floating around, being able to go through objects and not being recognized by his family, it is theorized he may either be undead or a ghost. The entry for the Dastardos shovelhead also implies this, calling him “untouchable” and only thanks to lining up to his frequency can the shovel hit him. This theory kind of makes the fact that Professor Pester being responsible for this even more messed up.

Extended / full version of Horstachio commercial - One of the more famous pieces of commercials to advertise the first game was the one featuring Hudson Horstachio, about to be broken by a couple of kids, that he offers a bunch of outlandish things to to convince them to let him down. There are apparently some different versions of the commercial which feature different things being offered, with a full uncut version that has all the offers in it.

Piñata cards - In Viva Piñata Trouble in Paradise there is a function which is called Piñata Vision, which utilizes the Xbox Live Vision camera. By scanning the card you can get the piñata or item displayed on the card, some of these cards feature the developers in the form of a piñata and characters from other games.

Language Dubs - The PC port of the original game has a lot of language dubs, translated into languages such as Dutch, Swedish, Spanish, Chinese and more. Some of these do not extend to the UI oddly enough, while for the majority of translations all of the game’s features are translated accordingly, with the exception of piñata names. The language chosen is determined by the language set for the computer, so if you want the game in a specific language you’d need to change the language of the computer before installing it.

PC port graphical downgrades - Oddly enough the PC port has some graphical differences compared to the original Xbox 360 release. Mostly the graphics being downgraded, even on the highest settings, such as the lighting and texture resolution on objects and the environment.

Miss Petula’s neglectful parents - The npc that runs the Paper Pet’s store is Miss Petula, who often lets the player know she’s not very enthusiastic about her job. Mostly because her parents have left the store in her care, and don’t seem to communicate with their daughter much aside from grounding her, as she mentions it in her dialogue. In one of her dialogue lines when the player leaves the shop she ponders running away from home.

Accessories graphical glitches - Some accessories have graphical glitches associated with them, such as missing pieces or being misaligned on the model during certain animations. Examples of this is the ribbon being missing when a Ponocky wears a tail ribbon (in the PC version), or goggles on Chippopotamus not moving properly when their mouth is opened.

Some piñatas are sapient, others not - Because of the fact that both the show and games are canon makes some things kind of weird. Though even if the show wasn’t canon this would still be a thing - as thanks to the existence of Langston and some of the show characters appearing in the DS game. Most piñatas in the games act like animals and cannot speak, however in the show and with Langston they are very much as sapient as a human. What causes a piñata of the same species to be sapient or not? Why does no character in the game acknowledge this strange difference? We don’t know.

Magic is real - In the Viva Piñata universe, at least on Piñata Island, magic exists. Seen in the form of Leafos and Jardinero summoning items, Bart transforming items into other things, Seedos and other characters teleporting and both Dastardos and Storkos being able to fly. There are other examples of magic, nobody really explains why magic exists or to what extent it is used or capable of being, but simply something that is commonplace on Piñata Island. If magic exists in other places is unknown.

The DS game - Known as Viva Piñata Pocket Paradise, the DS game came out after both the original game and TiP. It features a mix of piñatas from both the other games, however not all of them, because of the limitations of being on the DS. It is pretty much just another Viva Piñata game where you tend to a garden, now using the touchscreen to use your tools and so on.

How the fuck does the family not recognize Dastardos as Stardos - A strange phenomenon considering at least Jardinero considers Dastardos familiar and so does Leafos to an extent (he is in the "family members" part of the journal after all), but apparently none of the other family members have been able to figure out that Dastardos is in fact Stardos. Whether this is them just being very oblivious or not it’s still sad that they can’t even recognize their own family member after being corrupted. This is also even more strange considering Dastardos lives literally across the garden from his family, how have they not been able to tell by now? Though, if the ghost theory is considered, maybe it’s understandable why they have such a hard time recognizing him.

-Level 4-

Langston taking over the position of authority in piñata central from Jeffe - Apparently Jeffe used to be in charge of the piñata central and was later kicked off his position and replaced by Langston, this is to reflect how Jeffe was originally planned as the head of the piñata central before being replaced by Langston as influenced by the show. Why he was kicked off his position is uncertain, but theorized to be because of the fact that he turned into a piñata or half piñata from ingesting too much candy - though why this would influence him being kicked off i’m not sure. Maybe he abused the central for his own gain?

“They all wear masks, some are just more elaborate than others” - A statement from a developer when asked about the masks worn by the humanoid characters in the games, whether they’re their actual heads or some kinda mask. This was meant to clarify that all the human characters are fully human, however it still leaves some things unanswered - such as if they are masks then why can we not see Fannie Franker’s face inside the mailbox on her head? Or what does that entail for the Ruffians whose bodies are pretty much completely covered in their masks.

Squazzils name debate - A reference to how in game Leafos mentions that the name for the Squazzil was debated before you, the player, arrived at the island. Being apparently called Nonsquirrel as they were trying to figure out a name for the species. Whether this is true or not is uncertain, as Leafos does state untrue rumors sometimes.

The side characters in P-Factor - P-Factor is a minigame in TiP that is you showing off your piñata in a contest against other players or npcs. This minigame features both already existing npcs, such Leafos for example, as well as some made exclusively for the minigames. Some of these npcs include Maxime, Babochka, Nana Urf and more. They also make an appearance in the Great Piñata Paperchase minigame, however they are much more prominently presented in the P-Factor minigame.

Unknown blue flower - There is a blue flower which appears outside of the garden space as a decoration in the original game. This blue flower is not a flower which appears anywhere else, and cannot be planted in the garden either. Most of the flowers and trees found outside the garden space are plants that are available for the player, but this one flower is unique in that it isn’t part of those plants.

Leafos might be a lesbian - As it is very much implied that Leafos is the one who writes the entries for the items, objects, characters and piñatas in the journal one can glean interesting information and thoughts about Leafos. In the entry for the Pink Flutterscotch there is the sentence “A girl (that I may or may not have liked) once told me that the Pink Flutterscotch reminded her of a kiss.” Some people take this as an implication that Leafos may be a lesbian and or bi, which i personally think would be neat.

Viva Piñata Party Animals - A party game that stars the main cast of the tv show, it features a lot of different minigames and a mario kart-like racing minigame, kinda being a mix between mario party and mario kart except piñata themed. It’s very different from the other games in the series and has a lot of locations and items not featured in the other games as well.

Unused piñata concepts - There are plenty of piñatas that never made it into any of the games, as one would expect. Examples of piñatas that never appear in the game but had concepts made for them are a Giraffe, a Platypus that would’ve been acquired by breeding a Quackberry and Sweetooth together, a Hammerhead shark with a sour form and a Kangaroo. A goldfish piñata was also part of concepts, however this piñata does appear in the game - as the fish in the bowl on Miss Petulas head.

Ivor in the wishing well - In TiP Ivor Bargain is strangely missing, with the items he used to sell now being purchasable at Cost’o’lots. Ivor can however be found residing at the bottom of the wishing well object, which you can purchase after playing through the credits sequence. By donating chocolate coins you can get him to speak and throw items from the well depending on what amount you throw in. It is hinted that Lottie was the one who pushed Ivor into the well, likely because she doesn’t want competition selling items to the local gardeners.

-Level 5-

Banjo Kazooie Mountains - One of the rarer (hah) easter eggs to spot in the original game, in the distance across the swamp where Seedos lives one can see a mountain which has Banjo and Kazooie carved into the mountain. This is much easier to see in the Xbox 360 version compared to the PC port, because of the higher resolution textures.

Silent piñatas - Every piñata is voice acted, or are they? One might notice that there are two, well technically eleven, piñatas that are completely silent. The Flutterscotches and Mothdrops are fully silent, not making any noise. Why this is is uncertain, as other bug piñatas do have noises, such as the Taffly and Sweetle. It may be because normally no noise is associated with butterflies or moths in real life, or it may be because these piñatas are meant to be more akin to decorational than a “proper” piñata.

Dragonache flying away glitch - A glitch which is easily done in game, by making the dragonache engage in a fight with another piñata and using the menu to send it off from the garden. By opening the fighting view, which can be accessed to monitor the fight separate from the normal camera view, it will focus in on the two piñatas. The camera will become strange as the Dragonache flies away from the garden, letting you see out of bounds and see details otherwise obscured by things in the background around the garden. I recommend doing this after having done at least one mandatory fight beforehand, as you are forced to watch the first fight that occurs and will unable to do anything till it is finished. Thus if you do this glitch while forced to watch it you will be unable to access the rest of your garden for quite some time.

Giant Zumbug glitch - Not certain if a glitch or hack, there have been reports of a giant Zumbug in TiP which is acquired through unknown means. This giant Zumbug can be sent through the Xbox Live service, but more than that is not known.

Professor Pester is legit evil and fucked up - Even though he’s presented in the show as a bumbling idiot of a villain, he has done a lot of fucked up shit. Not only does he employ Ruffians to mess up other people’s gardens, including Jardinero’s garden, he is also the reason why sour piñatas exist. Making a sour goop which is used for creating sour candy, it is a candy which makes anyone who eats it sick and possibly corrupts them - this is evident in how he corrupted Stardos by giving him sour candy. He may have rather bland goals as a villain, simply wanting complete control of the piñata island and its piñatas, but he’s done some pretty messed up stuff to try and accomplish this goal.

Extra color variants - All piñatas, except for the Flutterscotches, have three color variants that can be acquired by feeding the piñata specific things. However, there are piñatas that have more variants than others, through being caught in the Pinartic or Dessert Desert, and then feeding those the same things. This will cause them to gain a different tint of color compared to their normal counterparts, as thanks to having a different default color because of being from a different region.

Money and Piñata duplication glitch - It is possible to duplicate money and piñatas by abusing the post office, by editing the contents of the boxes being mailed while they are shipped off. This can be used to quickly acquire master romance rewards and cut down on time spent making chocolate coins the normal way. This glitch appears to be the easiest to do in TiP, compared to the first game.

Giant and tiny seeds - You can gain a plethora of things from the mine, which includes seeds. Sometimes when the mine uncovers seeds there is a chance for the seed to either be bigger or smaller than normal, these seeds work exactly like their normal sized versions, but sell for different prices. The size difference can vary wildly, with really big seeds and incredibly tiny seeds that are hard to see.

Ivor has two mouths - Something that may be easily missed, but Ivor Bargain does as a matter of fact have two mouths. One for each “face” he has, for when he’s a beggar and a merchant, he can flip between the two by spinning his head, flipping his head up or down. This is a little freaky, and completely glanced over in game, left unexplained why he has two mouths or can flip his head upside down with no consequences.

Leafos is vegan - A very recent thing which has been observed through the rare cookbook that has been released, which features an array of rare game inspired recipes. Recipes which are vegan or vegan friendly are marked with “Leafos vegan approved”, which implies that Leafos is vegan.

Fudgehog cutscene - On certain days of the month a different cutscene will play during the opening of the first game on Xbox 360 and PC, replacing the normal Horstachio cutscene. Instead it is a Fudgehog being broken to reveal the rare logo, though there is a bug in the PC port that makes the Fudgehog cutscene not play.

Pudgeon romance dance - An oddity among the rest of the romance dances is the Pudgeon romance dance, which is the only piñata to actually wear the required accessories needed for romancing in the romance dance cutscene.

-Level 6-

Mousemallow sounds - The Mousemallow makes interesting noises, which may seem strange for a mouse, as they aren’t squeaks. They go “chu” because the developer voicing them is from Japan, where mice are vocalized as going “chu” instead of squeak.

Cut baby piñatas - Originally piñata babies were meant to look different from their adult counterparts, instead of just being smaller. However because of time constraints this was cut.

Humans can become piñatas rumor - In game this is presented in TiP with Jeffe, which is a human piñata or a half human half piñata, he states “If you eat enough candy and pull a face in the wind you'll become a piñata, I never want to see another piece of candy let alone a piñata full of it.” as part of dialogue during P-Factor. We cannot confirm whether this is actually true or not, but if Jeffe’s statement is true then it would imply that humans can turn into piñatas. This in turn creates a lot of questions, such as why does this happen? Has this happened to people outside of Piñata Island? Is this something exclusive to just the island or candy from the living piñatas? Can this happen with animals as well?

Tamed sour piñatas reverting via mail - A gameplay mechanic which is not commonly seen is the fact that tamed sour piñatas can revert back to a sour state. This occurs when you send a tamed sour piñata to a player which hasn’t unlocked the tamed version of that piñata, when the piñata is taken out of its mailed box it will be the sour version. This happens in all the main games, including Pocket Paradise as well.

Pitch black piñata variants - A once exclusive variant available through Piñata Vision cards, it turns a piñata completely black, even sour piñatas. This can be acquired without the use of cards through things like hacking or modifying the game’s files.

Piñata meat - Something mentioned in the journal and seen in the form of some piñatas attacking projectiles, eating piñatas in the form of eating their “meat” is apparently a normal thing on Piñata Island. Examples of this are the journal entries for Cluckles and Arocknids, which mention eating Cluckle legs, as well as the projectiles of Cluckles and Goobaa being chicken legs and mutton chops. It is also mentioned in in-game dialogue that Storkos eats piñata eggs if unable to deliver them, and other piñatas do consume piñata eggs. Are thus piñatas edible beyond just their candy? Or are the residents on Piñata Island cooking and eating paper mache animal parts and acting like that’s not weird?

Family mode - A mode found in the original game and TiP, which allows two people to play at the same time using two controllers. Simply done by connecting a second controller while playing the game, it’s originally meant for parents to be able to help their kids while they play without having to disturb the gameplay. This mode can be used to give yourself an edge in the early stages of the game in TiP, as the second controller will have the best tools available right away and is capable of things the first controller cannot, like filling a piñatas candiosity by performing tasks.

Dastardos and Seedos special interaction - When you’ve beaten up Seedos and gotten him on his bad side he’ll start to chuck weed seeds into your garden, and has a special interaction with Dastardos if both of them are in the garden while he is in his upset state. When Seedos has thrown a weed seed, the two of them will turn to face each other and do their laughing animation, presumably because both of them enjoy the chaos. Or maybe they have that slight family connection still? It’s rather sad though that Seedos only acknowledges his brother at all when he’s angry and upset.

-Level 7-

Viva Piñata Candy Stash - There are a few piñata games which aren’t widely known, for example this Adobe Flash tower defense game developed and published by 4Kids TV, known as Viva Piñata Candy Stash. This game features Professor Pester trying to steal the player’s candy using Ruffian robots, and to stop him the player builds towers invented by piñata characters from the tv show.

Petting piñatas - Exclusive to Pocket Paradise, you can pet your piñatas which makes them happy. Different piñatas like to be pet differently, and if petted the wrong way it won’t increase their happiness.

No 100% reward in first game - Both Viva Piñata Trouble in Paradise and Viva Piñata Pocket Paradise have a reward / reward screen for completing the game fully, by getting all the available rewards for the piñatas and plants. However, there is no proper completion reward in the original first game, there are rewards for various milestones but none for completing everything.

Piñata mascot suits - As part of promotions and promotional material there exists mascot suits of some piñatas, such as the Horstachio, Pretztail and Fudgehog. Whether these suits are kept in storage somewhere or have been thrown away we do not know.

Ruffians helping Helpers - Unless you mess with your helpers just for fun, you’re unlikely to ever see this happen. When a helper of any kind is stuck because of a fence or being surrounded by objects, they will constantly keep telling you they’re stuck. If you let them stay stuck for long enough a Ruffian will spawn in, no matter if you have a Captain’s Cutlass or not in your garden, that you cannot interact with. They will wander over to the helper and free them by destroying the object that’s in the way. Leafos will then berate you with a notification, saying “Shame on you!” for being such a jerk to your helper, and that the Ruffian and helper are running off; the helper leaving permanently.

Ruffians speaking - Ruffians normally do not speak, only making various grunts, but do have dialogue seen in Pocket Paradise.

-Honorable Mentions-

Miss Petula’s cat eyes - Miss Petula has a strange animation in game where her eyes go from having rounded pupils to having slitted, cat-like pupils. This is likely because of her cat theme, but is still strange considering she’s supposed to be a human.

Rare variant of logo cutscene - There is a version of the rare logo reveal cutscene played when opening the game, that features the rare logo itself exploding with candy. This is played in certain versions of the game, likely because of the fact that both the Fudgehog and Horstachio cutscenes feature a sort of dismemberment via them being smashed into bits which can be seen as inappropriate in certain regions.

All the shops have slot machines - A strange detail is that all the shopping menus are made out of slot machines, which might seem odd since slot machines usually have nothing to do with shops or making purchases, more so being related to gambling.

Unidentified voice actors - A lot of the voices provided for the games go unnamed in the credits, however we do know most of the piñata voices are members of the staff and developers. The missing voice actors for the npcs are listed as “Voices provided by 4Kids” with no names attached.

#viva piñata #viva pinata #vp #iceberg meme #meme #text #yeah i am planning on making a video #i normally don't make videos but considering i've watched a fair share of iceberg explanation videos n have enjoyed them i was like #why not do that too? i'm sure some people would enjoy it #also gives me an excuse to sit down n play the game some :b #unfortunately i won't be able to capture footage for TiP since i don't have a capture card #though maybe one day i'll get one so i can record n stream the game :3 #also if you see anything which is inaccurate on here lemme know! i wanna get things right #also thanks to all the peeps that gave suggestions it helped a lot n got me inspired

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nachohypno · 3 years

Text

Pine’s Football Jocks (Rewritten!) - Ch. 4

The delivery guy finished with the boxes, leaving them next to the lobby’s counter. It was okay, I could take it from there. Got a few muscular guys and they could put those muscles to display.

“You really can take it from here? You look small to move all those boxes” The guy that asked me to sign for the delivery asked. It was nice of him.

“Yeah, no. I’m going to have the guys move them to the storage room, and I thought that could serve as motivation for the non-staff people, to be like ‘Woah, I’d like to be strong like that one day’.” I explained, nodding towards coach Mark spotting a twink-ish guy while he bench pressed.

“Uh, whatever you prefer. All the papers are in order, so… Have a nice day, bud.” The delivery guy counted the ten boxes one last time, before writing some stuff on his clipboard and leaving the sports club.

Now, to get all these boxes inside…

“Mark! Peter! A little help, please?” I shouted, trying to catch their attention over the loud music. And after they finished helping their respective trainees, the coaches ran over to my side.

“Yeah, boss? Need help with these boxes?” Mark asked, pointing at the boxes beside me.

Mark and Peter, the football coaches from my old high school and my current university, respectively. Of course, they have been brainwashed after I met them, and I put them to work under my management as personal trainers during their free times, which is… the only time I can open this place.

“Yeah. Just move it to the storage room and I’ll check them there. They’re supposed to be the new uniforms and the club’s merch, so better check they are exactly as I’ve ordered them.”

I was particularly excited about this. I only ordered one delivery of a couple boxes full of different sized unisex shirts, and I plan on leaving them behind the counter and having the coaches wear them as their new uniform.

Once again, I’m using them as a display. I’ve been researching for a while with my frat friend Aiden, who told me I should make the trainers wear them and that would make the clients want them, somehow. “It’s dumb, but it works. And I expect a percentage of the earnings for my advice.” were his exact words.

“Hey, Mikey!” I called my best friend, who was running on a treadmill a few meters away. “Can you look around and make sure nobody dies while I’m back there? Should only take a few minutes”

“I’ve got your back, bro!” He answered, giving me a thumb up with his healthy arm before turning the treadmill a few levels down to be able to pay attention to his surroundings without flying off the machine.

Great, that covers it. It’s only for a minute or two, so I tried to not overthink it. Mikey is perfectly capable of helping someone, even with a casted arm. I hope, I don’t want to get sued.

He came to make me some company during one of my trips to this place, and because he wanted to put a workout in. Only lower body stuff, so he wouldn’t hurt his arm, but he seemed to love it still.

I followed the coaches to the storage room, as they left a pair of boxes each and went to look for the rest. I grabbed a cutter from the toolbox we have there and opened the box lid.

Grabbed a random tee from the box and pulled it up. ‘Neat’ I thought, admiring the work. It was a green tee, an XL size. Might be perfect for the coaches.

“Mark, take off your shirt and put this one instead.” I ordered, throwing the shirt at him and examining the box again.

“Yeah, boss” Answered the coach, before starting to undress beside me. I took a quick glimpse, sighed, then went back to work. I grabbed another pair of shirts, one would be for Peter and the other one for Mikey. I guessed he would like the little present.

Mark had already changed, and the shirt looked awesome on his muscular body. Fitted, which was great, because it showed off his big pecs and bodybuilder abs. How can a high school football coach have such a great build? I don’t know, I don’t care. Me and my old classmates just assumed he was a real psychopath when it came to physical stuff.

“Looking great there. How does it feel?” I asked, patting one of Mark’s pecs.

“Somewhat tight, but still really good. Not tight enough to hinder my movement, boss.” He smiled after his answer, like he was proud to help. It was nice, I liked to see my boys being happy, no matter which one it is.

“Good, that’s good.” I mumbled, checking out the guy to examine the shirt. It was green, just like I asked. It had a little grey pine tree drawn on the left pec.

And in the middle, around the chest area, there was the words ‘Lumberjack Sports Club’ written in big letters. It was supposed to be a rebrand on the whole place and… Really cheesy, right? I know, it was the best I could think of. Wanted to make something with my name and… lumberjacks cut wood, like pines… Yeah, it’s really, really cheesy.

The words become a bit more prominent if the wearer has big pecs, like coach Mark has. They stick out a bit more due to the big chest, which is awesome!

I finished checking that everything was as planned, then patted the man’s pecs once more. “Done here, you can go back to work.”

“Sure thing, boss” Is it weird having my high school coach calling me boss? Of course it is, but can’t do anything about that.

Now I just needed to wait for Peter and do the same thing with him. The sooner I introduce the new uniforms, the more exposed they’d be and a week or two later, I would be able to sell them as club merch on the reception desk. Once I set this place as self-manageable, I can drop it finally and go back to being number #1 of the class.

The original plan was just to save this place because it was Mike’s preferred workout place, but now it turned out to be a huge time vacuum.

Coach Peter entered, carrying the last two boxes. “Great, I was just waiting for you…” I said, grabbing another XL tee from the box I opened previously.

-----

I took a few minutes examining the other boxes before going back to the main area. I looked around for Mike, hands behind my back trying to hide one of the new t-shirts I wanted to give him. I noticed he already finished with the treadmill.

After he saw me coming out of the storage, the big guy skipped over to my side. “Hey, what’s with the new shirts? They look awesome!” The jock said, admiring how the new uniform looked on the coaches as they went back to work.

“Just a little idea I had! Nice, right? I think I went a bit over the top with it but it’s supposed to increase earnings and… you know, management stuff.” I didn’t like boring Mike with the details of my little hobby/job. It was fun to do, and reminded me of time management games I used to play as a kid. But of course, in a more serious and realistic way.

“They are! Man, they really look good.” He stated, before finally stopping his admiration for the new shirts. Luckily, because I would start feeling weird if he kept admiring those.

“Weeeeeell…” I extended my hands towards him and offered him the tee. “Got one for you!”

“Really?! Awesome!” He snatched it right away, but I didn’t want him changing in the middle of the gym area. It was supposed to be a little secret for now! Just meant to be shown off by the coaches for a few days before they go on sale. Not going to use my best friend for advertising purposes!

“Heyheyhey, wait a second there. I gotta finish with some stuff upstairs before we can go home. Want to come with me and…” Looking around to see that nobody was near to eavesdrop. “Show off a little?”

I tried to wink, but I’m pretty sure it came off awfully. I don’t know how to wink without making a weird face. Luckily for my self-esteem, Mike didn’t point it out. He just nodded, visibly excited to try his gift on.

No more words spoken, we started jogging upstairs quite fast. My ‘office’ was just this room with a couch on the side, a desk with a computer and two chairs around it. One in the front and one way more comfortable behind it.

I barely do stuff there, honestly. I try to not put much thought into the sports club, otherwise I’ll become as invested as I am with the football team and I’d have even less time to breath. Besides keeping my studies up to date, I like to have my time to play videogames.

Also Mike is a veeeery social guy, so he gets bored quite quickly if he doesn’t do stuff with another human being. Anything, let it be working out, play a game, cooking, sex, anything.

While he’s still in contact with his friends and teammates, I’m the guy who’s around him the most, and thus I have the responsibility to make him feel good and loved. It’s not a hard task because he’s naturally loveable, but still quite time consuming!

As soon as we entered, Mikey closed the door with his foot and pulled me in by the shoulder. There, the big guy leaned in and the usual make out session started.

…Yeah, this was another use for the office. That’s why the couch wasn’t out yet. It was pretty inappropriate for an office but very useful for sexy times like this.

I pulled back, though. We could do sexier stuff at our place, rather than risk anyone walking in the manager’s office for any reason. I wanted to head home already too, so I preferred if we were done with it quickly here.

“Wanted to thank you for the gift, bro. Y’know I love surprises.” he said, pointing to the shirt.

“Huh, you won’t love it until you try it! Strip show! Strip show!” I began to encourage him, as he threw the shirt to the couch and reached down to start pulling his sweaty tee up. He tried to do slow movements, and his cast was on the way,

A few seconds later, the old sweaty shirt was off. I wondered if I should tell him to stop and wait until he showered, but he seemed so excited that I decided to keep myself silent.

Mike grabbed the new uniform tee and carefully slid it in, one arm at a time, then the head, and the big guy was ready! “How do I look?” He asked, striking a superhero pose.

“Amazing, I knew it would fit like a glove!” It really looked great on him, and I guess that’s always a granted when you give fitted tees to fit people. The pecs look great; the abs can be admired through the fabric. It was really like he wasn’t wearing anything.

“Hey, once I get this thing off in a week,” he lifted his casted arm “I’m gonna work out like a beast, then we’ll go back home and I’ll give you the best freakin’ show in your life. Got it, bro?”

He had that handsome cocky smile, and I was glad I made him happy. I’m doing a nice job taking care of him, if I dare say so. He barely minded that his arm was broken and just looked forward to having it off. Focusing on his studies (Not intending to brag, but I kind of helped with that…) served as a nice distraction, so the big guy always has something to do.

“Okay, I’ll take your word on it” I answered, offering him my hand to make it seem like a deal. He chuckled and shook my hand, before pulling me in again for another kiss. I wanted to roll my eyes, but this was really nice. I can’t lie and say that I don’t enjoy it, I enjoy when he gets all cheesy and romantic.

“Y’know what we could do? It’s been a while since you’ve read me the… the story…” I think there are very few things that manage to get me from hard to soft, and sadly this was one of them. I’ve been trying to avoid the story for a few weeks, and Mike didn’t seem to notice or he didn’t bring it up.

Until now, of course.

And you know what? I can’t deny it to him, it’s something that happened years ago, and I’m not really upset by it but it’s… kind of uncomfortable to read? I feel like I was such a brat before.

I sighed. “I’ll read you one chapter, if… you cook dinner tonight and, uh…” I’m really bad at coming up with this stuff. It’s funny because I usually have to come up with orders and stuff like that. “Read another chapter for your class? The boring one, so you get over it fast” I’m devilish sometimes.

“Aww, man… Really?”

“Yup, take it or leave it, big guy” I crossed my arms, trying to seem like serious business.

After a bit, Mikey nodded. He didn’t even put up a fight, darn! I lowkey wanted to use mind control to change his mind. It’s okay though, I shouldn’t really try to influence his choices. Only for fun though, hehehe.

“Welp, we’ve got some time here. There’s a couch too, so…” I grabbed my laptop from my bag, feeling a sort of déjà vu as of now. Even when I tried to avoid reading it, it seems like I have to keep going until the end, or Mike won’t be happy.

I sat down on the mentioned couch, and waited for him to lay down beside me, as he rested his head on my lap. I had to leave the laptop beside me to avoid placing it on his head, but whatever.

Let’s see where I left this off…

----

Past Pine’s POV

My day was weird. I still felt a bit hurt by what happened at Mike’s house, but the idea of not having one, but two jocks under my control sort of balanced my mood into a normal state. Not happy, nor sad. I was just a blank sheet of paper waiting for the day ahead to fill me.

And that line is too cheesy, I have to erase it later.

[Huh… I didn’t delete that… I could just… Oh, sorry Mike. Where was I?]

But yeah. I couldn’t take last night’s events out of my mind, and the fact that Mike hadn’t sent me a nightly message may speak for itself. The guy is mad at me now, even though he doesn’t really have a reason to be mad.

Whatever. I thought about messaging Gary this time to have him pick me up and drive me to school, but if I wanted to keep my stuff a secret, then I would have to not be as obvious. I mean, having him not beat me up already on sight is a big improvement, but not being actually able to hang out with him was a pain.

Not like I want to hang out with Garrett, but being able to enjoy my new slaves would be nice. I know I got to play with them yesterday, but there’s still a lot of things to do!

Skimming through my day, nothing interesting happened. Again, I didn’t find Gary until after the first classes were over (Nothing of interest ever happened in my classes, the teachers did a good job on punishing troublemakers… As long as they’re inside the classroom, the corridors are another tale).

I saw him walking down the corridor, and Mike was next to him.

“Like, really, thanks a lot for helpin’ with those loooong words…” Mikey was saying, before they both stopped in front of me. “I dunno why, but that book seems like a biiiig pain in the ass now.”

“Hey, it’s okay. That’s what mates are for, right Mikey?”

“Right, bruh!” Huh, pigs might as well start to fly now because this was unnatural. Mike and Gary are getting along! This, uh… It never happened before.

Let’s see. Mikey is nice and gentle, while Gary is rude and… straight up awful. They never managed to even hit that one point where you text the other person and wish them a happy birthday, because both guys really dislike each other.

Something fishy is going on, definitely.

“Uhm… What’s up?” I asked, looking at one, then the other. I was pretty confused.

“Hey man. Been chatting with Mikey here during Literature class. Dunno what happened after I dropped you there last night, but he’s awesome now!” Gary stated, seeming excited.

“Yuh, been feelin’ pretty light headed since last night, bruh. My brah here helped me with some words I couldn’t understand. Been a hard day, huhuhuh…” Mike’s voice sounded deeper, exactly how they sounded last night after I left.

Fuck.

I did do something to him during our fight. I just didn’t notice. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I had to do something.

First, let’s see what I did to him. “Mike, would you mind telling me… the square root of 16?” That was the simplest one I could think of, because it’s the example they taught us when younger.

“Uh… I dunno, I ain’t a calculator bruh. But hey, we good now, right? You talkin’ to me like we good and that’s awesome! Bro hug!”

“No, wait, there’s no time for-“ I got pulled in for a bro hug anyway. Mike is a tight hugger, and this gave me time to think. I guess I can leave it like this for a while, right?

He certainly seems happier, and it could work as a sort of punishment for outing me. Not really enslaving him, because I have no interest in doing that to my best friend, but still doing something with him.

That makes sense, right?

Mike slowly let go of me, and I patted his shoulder. There was a big smile on his face as he looked down at me. That sealed the deal, he was staying like this at least for a few days.

“Yeah. We good, big guy” I told him, returning the nice smile he was giving me.

…And then he pulled me in for another bro hug.

“Okay, that’s enough” I said, once he let go of me again. Fighting back against him was useless, have you seen this guy? He’s way bigger than me! Rivaling Gary in terms of bigness!

“Sorry, got a lil’ bit excited there. So happy to be bruhs again, bruh!” Mike took a step forward, probably to hug me again, but I did a weird wanna-be karate move and he remained still. Gary laughed at our goofiness.

“So, that was heartwarming!” The guy stated. “C’mon big guy, we should head to practice before coach Mark starts to yell.”

“Oww… I don’t like coach Mark. He mean to me, huhuhuh.” Mike said, still in a deep voice. It was weird, seeing him like this. He’s not the brightest bulb on the box, but he isn’t a dumb jock either. He can be pretty smart if the subject interests him, like with biology and… P.E!

Wait… Coach Mark…

Okay, let’s say that I began to like this thing of controlling jocks with my mind control powers. (Except for Mikey, of course. That was an accident and he’s not going to be enslaved). But, if I were to enslave all of them, one by one…

It’s going to take an eternity, fuck.

But, as the big jocks next to me were chatting about going to practice and how mean the coach is, I thought I could maybe… target him this time? I mean, he is a very mean guy, and he also seems to not care that his football team has been bullying a senior student for a month or so. He definitely should be corrected in his ways…

“Hey, do you guys mind if I follow you to the practice?” The chatter stopped.

“Wut?” Mikey was legit confused. He was dumb, but he still recognized that I just had an awful idea, if I didn’t have any powers with me.

“Why’d you wanna do that?” Gary asked too. He seemed a bit less confused than Mike, but still clearly curious.

“Y’know what I mean by having a word with him, right?” And then, it clicked. Gary let out a ‘Ooooh…’ that made my dumbified best friend even more confused. “I figured that, instead of keeping going for the team’s jocks, I could take down the leader of the group?”

“I dunno what you two got in your hands, but lemme know if you need my help, a’ight? Gonna head to the field already…” Mike stated, but didn’t wait for an answer before leaving. I guess he got bored from not being paid attention? I don’t know, I’m not inside his head.

“Pine, bro, while this sounds great, are you really sure you can do that? I worry about you, bruh” Aww, Gary was a softie! But sadly, I had made up my mind already. I’m going to enslave that coach.

Gary and I walked together towards the football field. We talked about how the plan could go as we walked. I wouldn’t be able to enter the football field zone because that would raise suspicion, but I didn’t care much about that at the moment.

“Well, I need to think about all of this… Go to practice in the meantime, I’ll let you know at the end what my plan is, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll do my best to help you,” Gary leaned in and whispered to my ear “My master…” Then he jumped back and jogged down to the locker room.

I remained inside the school, making time while helping around the people with indoors extracurricular activities. It gave me something to do, and I could also think about the plan with barely any interruptions other than myself asking around in the classrooms if they needed an extra hand for anything.

Not going to lie, I was really tempted to go to the football field, climb on the bleachers and stare at all the jocks training. But it would be best if I stuck to the ‘not get voluntarily near any of the jocks’ for now, because I don’t really know if my powers work on masses of people. Like, so far it worked on two people, Gary and Brent.

I have a theory that people’s will power plays a part on whether they obey or not, and so far both Gary, Mike and Brent did as I said without any complaint. Getting the coach would also let me test if age has anything to do with my powers’ efficiency.

[Hmm… Nothing much happens during these bits… I’ll fast-forward a bit]

------

An hour or so later, football practice was probably over. It kind of depends, it usually only lasts until 5 pm but it can get extended until 6 pm and I hope it didn’t get extended because I’m bored.

I headed to the school yard. The sky was gray, maybe there would rain tonight. Nice, I like rain. I sped up my pace towards the football grounds though, didn’t want to miss the end of the practice.

My plan so far was telling Gary to get the coach’s attention and ask him for a short reunion. I could maybe lie saying that I’m in the school’s newspaper to justify my presence in that reunion. I don’t know, I’ll figure it out once I’m there.

The football ground was just a large chunk of land, decorated with lines to mark the different spots, yards or whatever. Sorry if I don’t seem interested, but I’ve never managed to understand football. On the sides of the field, there were a good chunk of bleachers for when we host a game and the principal invites the whole school, passing it off as a ‘grand event’ when it’s just another high school football game.

‘Suppose it’s got something to do with school spirit, but I’m not feeling any school spirit when I’m being shoved in a locker, thank you very much.

Enough with the bitterness though, got a plan to carry out!

The team players were sitting on the grass, and they looked really sweaty. Some were panting to catch their breaths; others were drinking water. The only thing in common was that they all were staring at the coach as the man spoke.

The coach was just as Gary described him earlier. A very large man with a face of few friends that scared everyone.

“YES, COACH!” The jocks shouted suddenly, breaking my train of thought. I assumed they were having a motivational speech of sorts. Or a cult reunion. You never know!

“LOUDER!” The man in front of the group shouted back, it gave me goosebumps. I don’t like yelling.

“YES, COACH!!” The jocks repeated, then the coach laughed and started speaking in a lower tone again, so I couldn’t hear anything. I was beside the bleachers, so I had no idea if they could see me or not. I didn’t really mind if they saw me, but I didn’t want to interrupt… whatever that was.

Cult meeting or football practice aside, the group started to walk lazily towards the locker room, probably to have a shower before they all returned home.

I noticed Gary split from the team and was walking towards my direction. I leaned back against the bleachers so the rest of the team couldn’t see me. Not that it would really matter, I think, but maybe being a bit careful wouldn’t hurt?

“Saw you spying. What’s up, bro?” Gary asked once he reached me. He was wearing a football jersey on top of the armor. The armor made his already wide shoulders look even bigger, which was certainly impressive.

I stood there for a moment, admiring the look of the guy in front of me. “Woah…” I mumbled, before shaking my head. “Uh… sorry. I wasn’t sure if practice had finished already so I thought I would come over and… take a look. Yeah. That’s it.”

“You’re so lucky the coach didn’t see you, otherwise he would have yelled at you big time.

“I mean; I could also tell him to shut up. It would sell me out, but it would also feel really good” That man. Yells. A LOT.

“Got a point there. Eh, I gotta go back in and take a shower. I’m really smelly, otherwise I’d give ya a bro hug. You… seemed to enjoy the one Mikey gave you this morning” I almost cracked a laugh in front of him. Never thought Gary would get so observant. So glad he’s enslaved to do as I say, otherwise he would have beaten me up by now.

“Yeah… Yeah, you’re pretty smelly. I’ll wait for you here, still planning to get the coach today.” I said, as he took a few steps back.

“Oh yeah, about that. I came up with an idea to help you out. I’ll wait outside the locker room once I’m done and call you when everyone else finishes, ‘kay? Shouldn’t take longer than 15 minutes, and the coach usually stays in to check some stuff in his office.” It sounded like a nice plan, better than mine I guess. Because there was barely a plan on my end.

Go in, enslave, go out. That’s what I managed to think of all day. I don’t really know the coach other than he’s a dick, and I’d like to change that once I get my grip on him, but if I don’t get him first then the later part would be pretty useless.

“Sure, okay. See you in a while, I think.” Never thought I’d be planning how to enslave a coach with Garrett Basch. But hey, I should get used to this, right? I mean, if I plan on keep doing it after a while, that is…

Yeah, I probably will. I don’t know, I have a feeling I can become really good at this with enough practice!

Gary smiled and ran off. I noticed some players walking towards where I was, which made sense since this is the field’s direct exit. I hid under the bleachers next to me and hoped to not be seen. The guys passed by, luckily not noticing me… standing there like some kind of creep.

Well, I just needed to wait now. And hide, just in case someone else decided to leave.

-----

It seemed like forever, but after around 15 minutes of waiting, I received a text from Gary.

Finally! I left my little hideout and was about to make a run towards the locker room’s exit of the field, but instead bumped into someone. Way to go on the ‘stay hidden’ part, huh?

“Oh, hey. Sorry, bruh. Didn’t see you… Uh… Where did you come from?” Mikey said, taking a step forward to see if I was alright, and I could tell he didn’t take a shower and just changed into normal clothes. The after-practice odor wasn’t so strong, but it was still noticeable.

I looked at the big guy and tried to shrug the bump off. “Uhm… Just came from school, thought about having a word with the coach before heading home.” I explained. It wouldn’t hurt to update him with my latest plans, right? I mean, I don’t think he could do something bad to me while he’s a dumb jock.

“Ooooh, you don’t wanna do that, brah. Coach is reaaaaaally pissed today, he’s been taking it out on us all evening. I was really thinking about ditchin’ practice and go home, but that’d probably have been worse than hearin’ him yell and stuff, huhuhuh.” That deep laugh was a bit unsettling.

I nodded. “Thanks for the heads up, I’ll be careful. You’re heading home, right?”

“Yuh-uh”

“Good. Take a shower when you get there, okay?” I don’t know if he planned to not shower at all, but he kind of messed his normal clothes by not showering before changing back to them, so I thought I could slip that one little help for him.

“Got’cha, bruh” I didn’t notice him going all blank and glassy eyed, but I think it worked fine. “Gonna head back now, see ya bruh.” He was about to step in for another bro hug, but I lifted my hands and he ended up bro-slapping them. Nicer than smelling my friend after a practice? Always.

“Oh, wait!” I heard Mikey and stopped in my tracks. Turned around and noticed him smiling at me “Nice glasses you have. Make you look smarter, bruh.”

“Uh… Thanks? They’re the same ones I’ve been wearing for months” Luckily, my glasses never got broken on Garrett’s jock rampage against me. Which is nice, because my prescription is still working fine and glasses aren’t cheap.

“Yeah, but I noticed that if you compliment people, they feel better and I like making people feel better. Discovered this after I com-pli-men-ted-” He counted the syllables with his hand, which was cute. “-this cheerleader earlier today and she seemed really happy afterwards. So yeah, looking great today, bruh! But, uh… No homo, you get what I mean, huhuhuh.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well… Thanks Mikey, you look great too. No homo! Heheh.” I figured I had to add that in at the end too, otherwise he might think I was hitting on him. The big guy gave me a big dumb smile, before nodding and walking away.

After that weird event, I went back to making a run towards the locker rooms. I noticed Gary waiting there, with a kind of annoyed look.

“What took so long?” He asked once I arrived. He seemed more nervous than anything, which was understandable. The coach isn’t really a nice man, but he’s really good at his job. Otherwise I guess he wouldn’t be around?

“Bumped into Mike, and he wanted to chat for a bit. Nothing serious, I’m here now!”

“It’s… okay. You’re the leader here, so I can’t get mad at you. Can’t get mad at you even if I wanted, bro!” He said with a sincere smile. It felt weird, but I shrugged it off. “C’mon, let’s talk to the coach.”

As we were about to go in, the door opened and coach Mark was staring at us, apparently in confusion. Did we catch him on his way out? Oh, fuck.

Coach Mark. A man around his thirties, very muscular too (His body size reminded me of Gary, actually! But older and bigger/taller). He was wearing a fitted tee that looked quite professional while also being ‘made for show-off’-ish, some dark gray leggings and running shoes.

He had sunglasses on, which was weird because it was almost night time already, and a little golden chainlink necklace that ended up hid under the t-shirt. I felt like if I kept examining him, I would die, for some reason.

The man had an expression of not liking… I don’t know, the entire planet. But I’ve heard rumors about him laughing sometimes, whenever he takes a person to detention.

“Heeeey, coach…” Gary said, sounding quite nervous. If he was nervous, I was about to pass out then.

“Yo, Garrett…” Then he looked at me “And… uh… Mr… Cartas?” How rude! Uh, I think. I guess he’s not really forced to learn the student’s names and so. I need to try and go a bit easier on people, I guess.

“Carter, sir… My name is Pine Carter…” I corrected him, but tried to sound respectful.

“Yeah, that. What are… you two doing here? Practice’s over, I’m heading home now” The coach stated, sounding surprisingly calm. Maybe he doesn’t need to sound all baddy and mean if his jocks aren’t around?

“Wait, coach. I really need to talk with you, in private. With my buddy here.” The coach seemed to flinch a bit when Gary called me ‘buddy’, but almost instantly regained composure.

“Sure. Head to my office tomorrow during your free time, and we’ll chat there. Going back home now” The coach put a bit more force on that last sentence, like he really wanted us to leave and stop bothering.

I think this would be a nice time to step in!

“Uh, coach. You’re going to let us in and have a reunion with us. You really want to have this thing now” I stated, trying to sound quite commanding.

Mark’s eyes glazed over for a second, but quickly turned back to normal again. He turned around without saying a word and let us in the locker room. “Come on in, let’s go to my office to talk more comfortably.” He said after starting to walk in.

Gary smiled at me, before letting me go in first and follow me closely behind. The office was just across the locker room, so it was just a few steps away. The coach unlocked the door with his key and let us go in first. The plan was working out! I’m so excited!

The office had a brown desk in the middle, with a computer on top of it and a plaque that read ‘Coach Mark’. In front of it, there were three plastic chairs that seemed pretty uncomfortable. Around the walls were shelves with pictures of teams (Probably the school’s football team across the years? I couldn’t tell).

A pennant with the school’s colors (Red and yellow) was right behind the leather desk chair that was for the coach. I was tempted to command him to exchange chairs with me or something, but decided to not be an asshole. It was enough that I was going to make him obedient to me already.

I sat on one of the chairs in front of the desk, and Gary followed suit. The jock smiled at me, and shook my shoulder a bit. “Hey, you’ll do great” He mouthed (I think), as the coach closed the door and walked around the desk to sit on his chair.

The older man was mumbling a sort of happy tune, which would have made me laugh if I weren’t completely terrified.

“So…” The coach grabbed a few papers on top of his desk, set them aside, and stared at Gary. “What brings you two here?”

Since he was looking at Garrett, I didn’t feel like I actually had any permission to speak on this matter. I assumed this had just turned into a ‘team effort’ kind of thing, and decided to let my jock partner play his card and I would continue afterwards.

“Well, sir…” Gary seemed nervous too, but was handling it way better than me. “It would be nice if you apologized to my friend-o here… I know this may come off as out of nowhere but…” then he looked at me. “Pine, I’m sorry for what I’ve done this last month. I’m truly, very sorry.”

My brain was about to split in half, not because of the surprise but because I didn’t know how to react. For one side, there was a little voice that was like ‘fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck you!’ and in the other side, another voice that went like ‘So cuteeeeee!’.

Since I couldn’t really pick a side, I just nodded. “Yeah, thanks. But why does the coach owe me an apology?” The coach in front of us raised an eyebrow, probably as confused as I was? “…You didn’t tell me why we were coming here in the first place, huh.”

“I’m preeetty sure good old Garrett was just pulling a prank on both of us, kiddo-“ The coach started, but was quickly interrupted by Garrett.

“The coach told me, and the team, that he knew our practices were going to get harder lately. And if we needed to steam off a little, we wouldn’t get in trouble for messing with people in the corridors and stuff… Y’know what I mean.”

I remained silent, and heard very calmly Garrett’s explanation as the coach seemed to have lost faith in this conversation. “And to avoid drawing a lot of attention, the best way would be to focus on one person. This happened around when someone spilled the beans about you being… y’know, gay and all…”

So… if I got everything right… It all started as a sort of chain of events that got intertwined with my outing, and the coach being a REAL asshole. Huh, if you think about it, it doesn’t make any sense.

The coach did a Jim face, looking straight ahead, probably realizing he fucked up big time. I could report him, of course, and I may as well do. But hey, at least I won’t feel bad for doing this.

“Well… In view of this new information, coach, I do now believe that you owe me an apology.” I said, maintaining the composure, and doing my best to not yell ‘and now you’ll be naked! And you’ll be naked!’.

The man moved his hands weirdly, and chuckled. “Sure, why not? I’m sorry. My guys needed a way to rest, and I provided it to them. It may have not been the best one, but it worked fine, right?”

“No, that was not a good apology” Now, this was getting tiring! “Apologize sincerely, okay?” It was weird, but this time I could feel how my words came off as more ‘strict’ than before.

And I did notice the coach’s face going blank, as he started droning “I’m sorry for sending my players out to get someone and that you ended up being that someone.”

“Hmm… No, that doesn’t do the trick” I said, while Gary observed the whole scene playing out. “Repeat after me: ‘What I did was very wrong, unforgivable even, and I deserve a punishment’.”

“What I did was very wrong, unforgivable even, and I deserve a punishment” Coach Mark repeated, his face still blank.

“Coach, as punishment for what you’ve done…” Uh, I feel like I’m sounding like a weird movie’s villain. But it’s impossible to make an enslavement thing good! It’s just weird, I dunno. “You are going to do everything I tell you, with no second thoughts. You want to become a good obedient slave for me, your master. Isn’t that right?”

No answer came out. Was he resisting? I’ve never seen anyone do that so far! Ooooh, this is so excitingggg! Wait, no, I’m mad at him. Fuck, it’s difficult to be mad when you’re taking control of the person you’re mad at.

“You really want to become my happy obedient slave, just like Gary is, don’t you coach?” I tried to smooth his path with some chatter. Garrett smiled at me, nodding like a happy puppy. I smiled back at him, before returning to the blank coach.

“Yeah… I-I want t-to…” Another weird thing was seeing this big muscular man stutter after I said a few words. Makes you think about how this mind control stuff affects people, right? “obedient… slave…?” The man finished, pretty confused as he stared at Garrett beside me.

“Yeah. He’s a really good jockboy,” Now, that was weird. I reached out to Gary and ruffled his hair a bit. He didn’t stop smiling, like he was happy to be there with me as he watched the whole scene play out. “And you reeaally want to be a good obedient jockboy too, don’t you?”

This felt pretty great! I mean, I know I sound like some weird villain guy, but payback does apparently feel really good!

“Y-yeaah… W-Want t-to be… a… g-gooood…” Okay, this was getting slow. If I have to wait for this guy to finish each sentence when I tell him something, I’ll graduate already.

Let’s see… Something to stop him from resisting… I examined the guy, he was exactly as Gary described him back at the corridor. He had a thin chainlink necklace around his neck, that seemed to fall nicely on the spot between his pecs. A

“Coach, stand up.” I ordered, and waited as he shakily got up from his seat and stood at attention. His hands seemed to shake like he was very nervous. Huh, I noticed he had his championship rings on. Normal rings but with like big crests and stuff on the upper part.

“Uh… Hey, Gary?” I looked at the enslaved jock beside me and pointed to the coach’s fingers. “Do you know why he’s wearing those? I thought they were supposed to be trophies, not literal rings…” I was pretty confused, but again, I know nothing about football other than Mike’s position being quarterback, and Gary’s is linebacker.

“They are supposed to be trophies, or some sort of collectible. But some coaches like to wear them for good luck or some shit like that. That’s what the guy told me, at least.” Gary answered, eyeing the coach as he did. For not being so involved now that he revealed the coach’s ‘evil plans’, he seemed to be enjoying the show.

Right… so I’m quite nervous here. Like, I have to deal with a guy resisting my mind control powers. Kind of, because so far he’s doing everything I say without any doubt, but it looks like he’s so tense he may break free in any minute. I had to think of something to break that resistance down…

I mean, imagine if this went wrong and coach Mark told everyone I tried to control him somehow. I may be locked up by the government, or worse!

“Uhm… Let’s see… Tell me what’s the most important thing for you, coach” I tried to find a weak point, something that would allow me to get inside his brain or something. I still don’t know entirely how this works, but… I won’t lose by trying, right?

“Dude, whatcha doing? Need some help to make him a good jockboy or somethin’?” Gary asked, almost whispering. He seemed confused, and I don’t blame him. I don’t have any idea what I’m going for here.

“Sort of, yeah. Just wait there, may need you if he wakes up and things get ugly”

The coach opened his mouth to answer, in a slow monotone voice. “Most important thing for me… my career, of course.” His body seemed to come back to life, but he had a nice smile on his face, like he enjoyed talking about this. “I used to play football in the big leagues before, kiddo. Then I decided to move to coaching with my best bud, and here I am. Won a lot of championships, y’know?”

I looked to his hands and saw the championship rings once again, and on top of the desk I saw this whistle. All the stuff I could use around me suddenly seemed highlighted, and I felt like a videogame character trying to come up with a solution for his dilemma. This just got way more fun.

I grabbed the whistle from the desk. “That sounds awesome, coach! And hey, I see you are a bit tense. Why don’t you go back to that blank state you were in a few moments ago, okay? Do it now, feel yourself relaxing more… and more…”

The smile vanished once again, as he stared straight ahead. “Relax… more and more…” He mumbled.

“Good coach. Extend your hands towards me, okay?” He nodded, and did as told. “We’re going to do a relaxation exercise now. I’m going to take one of your rings at a time, and you are going to feel yourself dropping ten times deeper into this nice relaxing state you’re in, okay?”

He didn’t seem so fond of this idea anymore, but I didn’t care. I was getting him this time! He nodded, shakily.

“Nice. And once all the rings are off, you will be so relaxed that you won’t be able to resist anymore. Your desire to give in to my words will just be so strong, so good to just listening me talk, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah… Nice to hear you…” The shaking went down a bit, but he still was visibly nervous about all of this. Hopefully this’ll work…

I reached out and grabbed one of the championship rings. There were 5 in total. Huh, I guess the guy was the real deal as a coach before? I pulled one out. “Hey, you’ve got a handful of these. Are you really that good of a coach?”

The tension went down a bit more after that first ring was off. I left it at the desk as he spoke. “Yeah… Always push my teams… to the fuckin’ limit…” Oh, he likes to swear. Nice to know.

“I could see that, you could go a little easier on them, you know?” I said, reaching out for the second ring.

“Sure… Go a little easier…” He mumbled. This seemed to be working. He seemed pretty calm now, but there were three more to go!

I kept going as I admired the big man in front of me relaxing more and more as I kept taking his championship rings off. There was one left by now, and the shaking had already stopped fully. His face didn’t show any emotion, only the same blank stare from a few moments ago.

“As soon as I take this last ring, you will become my obedient slave. Always ready to follow my orders, but acting like your old self when I’m not around or in public. You got that?” My fingers were ready to slide the last one out of his hand, but I wanted this one to be the most important one, now that he wasn’t resisting anymore.

“Yes… Become your obedient… slave…” He droned once again. It all seemed so easy now, like all the worries that were haunting me a few moments ago suddenly vanished, and the nice feeling of control washed over, putting me in charge.

“Exactly. You will become my obedient slave, addressing me as your ‘Master’. Once this ring comes off, you’ll belong completely to me. Understood?”

[God, this sounds so awful… Was I really so bad before?]

“Yes… Master…” That was my cue, I pulled off the last ring and left it at the desk. Immediately after, I could tell all resistance was definitely gone from the guy. Coach Mark smiled dumbly, looking down at me now. “How may I serve you, master?”

Behind me, Garrett clapped in awe. “That was AMAZING, master!”

Not going to lie, I felt like I was on top of the world. Like I could do anything!

I jumped a bit as celebration, as Gary clapped his hands in awe. It felt like a huge weight off my shoulders knowing I just managed to enslave coach Mark, one of the most (if not THE most) dickhead persons in the entire town.

“Hey, what’s next now?” My partner in crime asked, and that was a good question. I did wonder what I should do now. My original plan, the one I thought about for like two minutes before almost panicking, was getting to the entire football team (minus Mike).

If I did get to them, what would I do? I can’t just make a whole team get naked in the middle of the field or the locker room, someone could walk in out of nowhere and the whole thing would get shut down. Hell, someone could walk in on us right now and wonder what is going on!

I looked at the dazed coach. “Do you have your office’s key?” Mark nodded lazily. “Great, pass them to Gary”. The coach reached out to the desk, grabbed a long cord with a few keys at the end and threw them to my jock partner.

Garrett grabbed them (Luckily, I didn’t intend to hurt him with that order) and headed to the door, locking it from the inside with the key.

Now, we could have some private fun!

“Take off your shirt, coach” I ordered, kind of impatiently. I knew he had a nice body, I could see it in his frame.

“Yes, master” The guy mumbled, not moving his face again as he started carrying my order. He really seemed so peaceful now. He reached out for his shirt and slowly pulled it upwards, as his muscular torso came to view.

“Heeeeey… I wanna play too!” Gary said, pulling my sleeves to get my attention from behind me. I turned around and tried to think. God, all this thinking ‘what to do when you have a pair of guys under control’ is going to drive me nuts in no time.

“Well, you can take off your shirt too and stand beside the coach here. How does that sound?”

He didn’t wait for me to finish, he just tried to take off his own tee as soon as possible (Which probably made him waste a bit more time), before moving to the coach’s side and beating his nice chest for a second like a gorilla. “Done, master!”

Gotta say it, he really seemed excited, maybe more than I was.

While Gary did that, coach Mark finished taking his shirt off and threw it on the floor. Now both controlled guys were standing next to each other, Mark still with a blank expression while Gary shifted his gaze between me and the slave beside him.

“Anything in your mind, Mark?” I asked, wondering why he wasn’t as lively as Gary was.

“Nothing, master. I want to be a good slave for you, waiting to carry out your orders to make you proud.” Woah, he really was a competitive asshole. Even when it comes to being enslaved, he seemed to want to be the best at being enslaved.

“I’d actually prefer if you acted more… alive, if you get what I mean. Like, still obedient and devoted to me, but maybe have a bit of your old personality shining through?”

He remained silent, before a little smile began forming on his face. “Yeah, master. Anything you want.”

While Mark did seem to have a bit more of personality now, he still stood like a soldier, probably still waiting for commands.

“Alriiiight… First order of today then!” The two guys seemed to listen carefully to what I said. “Turn to face each other and give your fellow slave-bro a good, nice make out.”

Gary seemed a bit disgusted at first, but the coach didn’t waste a second and grabbed his best player. Pulling him in for a kiss that the younger jock didn’t seem to enjoy, but still went with it.

Coach Mark was pretty much bigger than Gary. Mostly because of height thought, and muscle size, yeah. But coach Mark seemed a head taller than Gary or so, which made him look quite bigger than his student.

“C’mon guys, put a bit more into it! Oh, I know! Start feeling up each other’s bodies, that’ll do the trick.” I ordered, sounding quite confident. I liked this, I really liked it.

Gary started feeling up the older man’s abs, while his other hand wandered around his back. Meanwhile, coach Mark apparently wanted to touch as much as possible, having his hands roaming Gary with a sudden intent.

Nice thing both Gary and I are over 18, otherwise this would have been veeeery weird and inappropriate.

I walked around the desk in the meantime and sat on the coach’s chair. It was incredibly comfortable, like lying on a pillow while I watched two hunks make out in front of me.

Noticing the coach’s sunglasses on the desk, I reached out to them and checked them out. “Hey coach! Mind if I try these on?” I kind of didn’t care for his permission at this point, but I was curious to see his answer.

“Nah, master. Take whatever you want, everything I own is yours now-” Gary pulled him back into the kiss, interrupting the coach’s speech.

I chuckled, realizing they were actually tongue-wrestling for control of the kiss, and Garrett just tried a dirty trick to win the battle.

“Okay guys,” I started, leaving the glasses folded on the neck of my tee. “Enough making out for now, let’s move on to the next part now.”

They stopped as I walked over to them, before standing at attention again. “Get naked. And, uh… get hard, too?” I didn’t know if that last one was going to work, but judging by their bulges they weren’t really turned on by the action that just happened.

I did notice their bulges got a bit bigger after I gave them that order, and once the clothing was out of the way, I could see that they were fully hard.

The coach’s cock seemed small. (Not that I have a big one, by any means. But the big muscles made it seem quite small.) Although compared to Gary’s, they both seemed quite average, similar sizes. Huh, weird.

He wouldn’t be using it much today, though. “Now coach, get on all fours and lift that ass a bit. Gary, get behind him once he’s done.”

Mumbling the always nice to hear ‘Yes, master’, both guys obeyed the commands I just gave them. I was already fully hard too, the feeling of control I had over them was too much for me!

The coach got down to his hands and knees, looking up at me. “What now, master?” The older man asked, as I noticed Gary spitting on his hand and rubbing his cock with it. The jock knew what was coming now.

“Weeeell…” I didn’t know how to phrase it. How do you phrase ‘You are getting fucked by your best player’? “You are getting fucked by… none other than Garrett.”

The jock behind the coach was rubbing his hard cock, before he noticed what I was saying and bowed down like some kind of actor.

Mark gulped, realizing that this wouldn’t be as easy for him. “Will…” He sighed “Will it hurt, master?”

I didn’t want to be evil or anything. I mean, he totally deserved it, but I’m better than him! Or I wanted to be, at least!

I tried my best to make it sound like an order rather than a simple answer. “Not at all, in fact, you’ll love being fucked in the ass. Got it?”

Eyes glazing for a bit, he droned a short “Got it…”, before looking back at Gary. “Whenever you’re ready, kiddo”

“Should I shove it in, master?” Gary asked, now stroking. I gave him a nod, and just sat on the desk to enjoy the show. Gary didn’t hold back *at all*, the guy literally shoved his cock in one go and started fucking the coach.

Mark didn’t seem to mind at all, he gave one loud moan when the rough thrust, and then he seemed to try to get himself quiet. His face however showed that he was really enjoying the act.

Gary grabbed the coach by the sides and started going faster. I loved the nice sight, it was all so hot!

“Hey, bro!” Gary called me, and motioned with his head to come closer. “Why don’t you step in the action? I love fucking this ass… but maybe you can get your first blowjob or something. Just sayin’, though. Not ordering you around, you’re the master here.”

He had a point though. I didn’t step in during his encounter with Brent, maybe I could do something now.

I patted his back and nodded, before walking over to the coach’s face. Quickly, I dropped my pants and underwear, leaving my own hard cock free. I’m not a big guy, but maybe I’m on the average side? I don’t know.

“Coach, look at me and open your mouth nice and big...” I ordered, stroking my own cock as I watched how Garrett pounded the man’s ass. Coach Mark obeyed, moaning a soft ‘Yes, master’ as he got fucked by his player.

I slowly slid my cock inside of his mouth. “Suck it, and be careful with the teeth” I really hoped he didn’t break free of the mind control and, I don’t know, bite my cock or something. He started wiggling his tongue around, and it felt quite nice. Not outstanding like how he was having it with Garrett, but quite pleasing.

We remained like that, as I tried the hips thrust motion Gary was doing on the coach’s mouth. It really felt like a victory. Not only my former bully was there, doing what I said, but also the asshole coach that everyone hates!

It wasn’t even 10 minutes that I could feel some warm feeling going through my body, focusing on my dick. I was going to cum!

“Okay guys. When I cum, you’re going to cum too. Got it?”

“Yeah, master!” They answered at unison. Such good boys I had!

I kept thrusting, a bit faster this time, before I took it out and came in the coach’s face. He closed his eyes and mouth shut, probably trying to avoid the semen falling in. I knew I could have made him drink it, but as I came, it was like all my kinky energy just went away. I was pretty much out of ideas about what I should order them to do.

Darn, that’s depressing.

The coach and Gary didn’t disappoint though. As I ordered, they came the exact moment they saw cum coming from my cock, but Gary kept fucking the coach’s ass. “You both can stop that now, you did great.” I panted.

“Thanks, master” “I’m honored, master” Gary and Mark answered, respectively.

I sighed, trying to come up with what to do now. I looked at the coach and suddenly had a little idea. Reaching out for his neck, I grabbed his little chainlink necklace and undid the little lock, before putting it on myself. “You don’t mind if I do that, don’t you coach?”

“Not at all, master” Was his answer, he seemed calm and relaxed. It was weird to see coach Mark like that. Kind of nice, though. He was usually an enraged mess who always yelled.

I reached out to the desk and slid two of his championship rings on my fingers. “And if I do this, coach?”

“No, master. Everything I have is yours, because I want to be your good slave, master” It was both weird but kind of hot how he wanted to be the best even at being enslaved, but I don’t mind at all, like before.

“Ooookay,” I started, grabbing the other rings and placing them in my bag. “Let’s all get dressed up again, and get going home. We’ll meet up again. Would you like that guys?”

“Yeah, master” was their answer. I felt proud, already three slaves under? Awesome.

------

Leaving the coach’s office and the locker room, Gary and I headed for the parking lot in complete silence. It was nighttime already, which made me wonder how much time we spent there. And how much time did I spend hiding under some bleachers.

“I had a lot of fun,” Gary broke the silence, smiling at me. “And you look nice with that stuff on, kinda cute. You’re like a mini-coach or something.” Not going to lie, it felt good.

But weird, this was still Garrett who was saying that to me, but it felt kind of warm.

“Huh, you really like it? I thought it was a bit dumb before…” I chuckled nervously, trying to strike a pose but it felt very embarrassing.

Gary laughed. “Yeah, I really like it. Gonna call you coach bro from now on!” We reached his car and he unlocked his doors. “So, what now?”

Assuming he was talking about what we were doing lately with the mind control stuff, I decided to answer what I had in mind so far. “I’ve got the coach now, so… Time for the team, I guess?” I really hope I can do some weird voice magic and get them all under control in one go. I will die if I have to go through them one by one, as I mentioned before.

He gave me a thumbs up. “Sounds like fun! It’s funny how the few times we’ve hung out to get a new slave-bro, I always end up fucking someone. It’s awesome!” Huh, he didn’t seem to mind he was fucking guys. Oh well, better for me. Leaves me more time to think about getting the team.

“Want me to take you home, right?” I nodded, before going around the car for the co-driver’s seat. Gary didn’t waste a moment either and got in, closing the door behind him.

Before turning the car on, he grabbed my face and pulled me in for a kiss. Unexpected, kind of nice, I decided to kiss back.

It was quite unexpected, and I decided to pull back after what seemed like forever, but it was actually 15 seconds. Huh, seemed like more.

Gary didn’t say a word, he just smiled at me. I nervously smiled back, not knowing what got into him all of a sudden. But hey, at least he’s not aggressive anymore!

The silence took over the car again as the jock drove me home. I was quite happy already, it had been a productive day.

-----

Present Pine’s POV

“So, that’s all for today- Oh, no no no. You didn’t fall asleep again, did you?” Mike was resting on my lap, eyes closed and apparently out like a light!

Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved to leave him there and just caress his hair or something to relax him more. But I wanted to go home!

Lucky for him, he opened his eyes before I started tickling him to move. “Not asleep! Just closed my eyes and started imagining the stuff. Man, that was some good stuff. How much do we have left?”

“Uh…” I looked at the laptop again, still thinking about what I would have done if he fell asleep. “Just another one, the team’s chapter”

“What?! Already the ending? Nooooo, gimme a second season Pineeeee…” He reached up and gave me a little smooch on the lips, before looking at me with puppy eyes. “Please?”

I snorted, shaking my head. “I can’t just… write more chapters, these are my memories! It’s not like I can make up fanfiction about myself. That’d be weird.”

A weird image of me mind controlling… Captain America came to my mind and made me chuckle.

“Yeah, that’s a good point.” He sat back up and stretched for a bit. I like when Mike realizes what he’s talking about. He calms down almost instantly. “Man, you got me all hard with that chapter. Gonna have to hide it somehow, my gym shorts don’t help at all.”

Oh, yeah. That would be a problem. “Well, uh… Get soft.”

Mike stared straight ahead for a few seconds, before answering a nice “Got it, done bruh. Still quite horny, but at least my buddy isn’t ratting me out, heheheh!”

I ruffled his hair and got up. He started talking about the points that interested him the most this time, but I was barely paying attention. I had another idea in mind.

Coach Mark isn’t going to return to Winston for the week, the school he works at is closed due to maintenance (Lots of old pipes that proved to be a danger, apparently.) so he was going to stay with Peter, his friend.

Maaaaaaybe he could stay over at my place after his shift is over… It would definitely be a nice surprise for Mike. I think. I hope so, because I really liked the idea now.

------

Author’s note:

Sorry for the long wait! Darn, I actually wanted to publish this one at the same time I returned with Nate and Dave on Patreon, but didn’t manage to finish the new chapter in time and was so worried about it that I forgot to publish this one. Sorry again for the long wait!

Man, I just love the coaches. I usually pick a guy to give an image to my characters, and I just happened to pic two really big bodybuilders to play the coaches. It may or may have not influenced on how much they appear, but I can’t complain. I just love a big guy 😂

I’ll try to keep the weekly releases coming. Should be okay for this week, I have a new story planned instead of Nate and Dave. Something with superheroes, if everything goes well. Anyway, I’ll stop rambling now. You didn’t see anything 🤫

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thanks so much for reading!

Edit: For public demand, I discovered there was a keep reading feature and I’ll start using it from now on for my long chapters. <3

#PinesJocks #PinesFootballJocks #mind control #straight to gay #gay hypnosis #hypnotized #brainwashing #brainwashed #brainwash

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justanotherblonde23 · 3 years

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You Can’t Please Everyone - A Marcus Moreno Story

Author’s Note: Welcome to Part 3 of my Marcus Moreno and Doctor Iris Moreno one shot series! This wasn’t originally the one I planned on releasing today, but I was going through it last night and @autumnleaves1991-blog suggested that I write my feelings out and let it all pour into my writing. She was right, I felt so much better afterwards. Still no descriptions for what Dr. Moreno looks like, I want you to feel like you can see yourself as her <3 Thank you all for your love and encouragement, I really appreciate it.

Warnings: angst, crying, parental problems, hurt/comfort, pregnancy mentions, language

Let me know what you think, what you’d like me to write next, want to be on a tag list for this series, etc. I want to interact with you all!

Iris opened the front door, trying her best to be quiet; she didn’t want to wake the kids. If Marcus got the timing right, their girls should have just finished their bedtime routine and have settled in for the night. She took her jacket off, hanging it up in the coat closet. All she wanted was to grab a glass of wine and curl up and have a good cry. Unfortunately, being pregnant meant no alcohol, so she would soldier through with a good cry in the shower, maybe.

Her heels clacked on the stairs. She went slowly, her heart and mind weary. Both girls had their doors open a crack, the universal sign that they wanted kisses and to be tucked in by momma, too, even if she came home a bit late. The drowsy kisses and ‘I love yous’ filled her with joy, covering the ache just a little. She knew that no matter what went wrong throughout the day, she would always be coming home to two precious little girls that loved her dearly. At this point, she couldn’t even imagine life without them.

Marcus was right where she expected him to be, in bed curled up with a good book. It still blew her away every time she stopped and realized that he was hers, and she was his. Being his wife, it was bliss in every sense of the word. She hadn’t expected him to propose; how could she when his last marriage ended the way it did? Iris would have been happy to be with him forever in any way that he’d have her, but she had to admit that she had wanted to be his wife. She had changed her name as fast as humanly possible, for the thought of being Dr. Moreno filled her with pride. He had suggested keeping her last name or maybe hyphenating it after he proposed. He knew how hard she had worked to make that name worth something, and he didn’t want to take that away from her. She had appreciated the gesture, but she insisted that her work was her own, no matter her last name. She wanted to share everything with Marcus Moreno, including his last name.

The man in question looked up, giving her one of his earth-shattering smiles, the one that made her feel as if she was the center of his universe. How could she not melt when his soft brown eyes held her gaze, baring his soul to her? She loved this beautiful man with every breath she took.

He frowned when he noticed her eyes had welled with tears, leaving black mascara tracks down her cheeks. Silently, he stood up, gently unzipping her dress for her and helping her into a shirt of his that she loved to wear to bed. He knew that she would talk to him when she was ready. He would wait her out; it was better not to press her. Marcus led her into the bathroom, sitting her up on the counter while he cleaned her face with a warm washcloth and makeup remover. With each tender swipe of the washcloth, more tears fell. He could feel her shaking underneath him, the silent sobs giving way to heaving gasps.

Once he finished washing her face, he cradled her in his arms, carrying her back to their bed. He settled her on his lap, her legs straddling his hips, arms wound around his neck, face tucked in next to his own. The closer he could get to her, the better he knew she’d be able to feel. His hand snaked under the shirt, rubbing soothing circles on her back, fingers pressing patterns into her spine. He whispered words of comfort in his wife’s ear, willing her to hear what he was saying. Darling, I love you. I’m here for you; you’re not alone. Let it all out, baby. It’s okay to cry. Don’t keep it all stuffed inside; just cry it out. Missy loves you, Jules loves you, I love you. He went on and on, pouring his love and adoration into her. Eventually, her tears subsided, and she was ready to talk. She pulled back a bit so that she could look into those kind eyes of his that never judged her or made her feel less than.

“Dinner with my dad was a disaster, Marcus, it was horrible. I should’ve known it would be bad, but I was hoping that this time might be different.”

He nodded sympathetically; her relationship with her father was complicated. That man was manipulative, two-faced, selfish, and frankly a terrible parent. He had never approved of their relationship, blatantly refusing to even come to their wedding, insisting that they’d be getting a divorce at some point anyway. No matter how happy they were together, that man was always finding something to nitpick. If it wasn’t the age gap, it was the fact that Iris had stepped up and filled the spot of mother that the girls had so desperately needed. He hated their jobs, their house, the fact that they were individuals with enhanced abilities. Marcus couldn’t think of a situation where he had ever said anything positive about, well, anything.

Despite all of this, he knew that Iris still loved him, still cared about him, and desperately wanted some type of relationship with him. She was the kindest person that Marcus had ever met. Her passion for people, her ability to truly empathize with others and try to help them heal was inspiring. He had never seen anything like it. He had seen it firsthand with his girls. She poured every ounce of love and devotion into them, treating them as if she had given birth to them herself. She said time and again that there was no difference to her. They were her girls just as much as they were his, and she loved them as such. That love and care extended to her father, too, no matter how many times he hurt her.

“What did he do, honey?” he was hesitant to ask. Marcus knew that he would get mad at her father and have to rein himself in. He hated to see his wife hurting like this, and it made his blood boil. No one should cause her this much turmoil, especially someone that was her parent.

“The whole thing was just a mess from the start. Dad was giving the poor waitress a hard time the second she came to the table. You know when he acts like he’s funny, but actually, he’s just rude? He was playing that game. I tried to talk him off the ledge and get him to bring it back in a bit. You should’ve seen her face, Marcus. She was petrified. Every time she came to the table, I could see the apprehension in her eyes. I tried to make sure that I was as nice to her as humanly possible to make up for him. Jesus Marcus, he should know better. I bartended to help mom with money when she was sick, for goodness sake. I was just like that poor girl all through med school and up until I got hired at Heroics HQ. You’d think he’d be willing to consider that.”

He shook his head, placing a kiss on her forehead, not interrupting her as she spoke. He knew that Iris needed to get it all out before he chimed in.

“Then he realized that I didn’t order any wine and commented on that, and oh fuck Marcus; it just came out. I just blurted out that I wasn’t drinking because we’re having a baby. He fucking laughed at me, told me not to joke about shit like that. When he figured out that I was serious, he was furious. He told me that I made a mistake, that this baby would just tie me down. He told me that this was a sign that it was time to give up my career and commit to being a mother. I just- I can’t believe everything he said. He went on and on about how I was finally having a real kid of my own as if Missy and Jules aren’t mine, and how it was unfortunate that this baby was yours. I thought that maybe he’d be happy that he’d be excited, but it was a shit show. He didn’t ask how far along I was or anything. I don’t know why I even do this anymore, why I even hope for his approval. It’s a battle I’m never going to win, so why even try? And fuck, these pregnancy hormones are making me so goddamn emotional. I couldn’t even make it through the main course. I made up a work emergency and left. I’m hurting, I’m fucking starving, and I just want to curl up and call it a night.”

There was silence for a few moments, Iris once again hiding her face in the crook of Marcus’ shoulder. He wished he could physically take the pain away, that he could take her heart in his hands and cradle it to his chest, protecting it from everything that threatened to break it. It killed him to see her like this, and it wasn’t fair; she didn’t deserve this. It didn’t help that at 12 weeks, her pregnancy was beginning to take a toll on her. It was always tricky for enhanced individuals to carry a child, even more so when the child was also enhanced. It just made everything a bit more complicated. He hadn’t seen it up close himself before. His ex hadn’t had powers. To see Iris suffering and struggling with harsher than average symptoms tore at his heartstrings. They were both so excited to have this little one; it would just be a bit more challenging.

“Baby, I’ll be right back. I’m gonna grab a few things, get comfy okay?”

Marcus hated untangling himself from her, but he knew what might make her feel a bit better. She let out a noncommittal grunt, letting him know that she heard him. He quickly went down to the kitchen, grabbing supplies. He put everything on a tray, double-checking that he had what he needed before going back up to the bedroom. He set the tray on the bed, earning a grin from his darling wife.

“Okay, so you said you were hungry; I thought I’d grab the things you’ve been craving recently. I’ve got a bowl of butter pecan ice cream with strawberry sauce, the whipped cream from a can, and crumbled up potato chips with a side of frozen Reese’s peanut butter cups and that guava juice you started liking last week. Oh, and a grilled cheese that I made earlier and put in the fridge. I know you like them cold right now. I’m not gonna question it. I’m sorry you didn’t even get to eat anything when you went for dinner, but this might be even better.”

He settled into bed next to Iris, putting the tray on her lap. The giggle of delight that left her mouth made him feel warm inside. He watched her dig into the ice cream, telling him about the new developments that she was working on for his katanas, how she wanted to adjust the grips a certain way, and asking for his input. There she was, his wife was crawling back out of the pain and the hurt. He adored her enthusiasm for science and invention. She always had some idea or other to improve his weaponry and armor. He could listen to her passionately explaining her thoughts and ideas for the rest of his life, and he’d never get bored.

By the time she finished, the disaster of a dinner had been wholly forgotten. Marcus got up, placing the tray on the dresser. He’d deal with it in the morning. They spent another hour talking, cuddling, and holding each other tightly. After a while, he noticed that Iris began to nod off, her eyelids struggling to stay open. He adjusted their position so that they were lying down, and his love was wrapped securely in his arms. She fell into sweet slumber to the sound of Marcus murmuring sweet nothings in her ear and his hand rubbing her tummy, holding her and their baby close. She may not be able to please everyone, but she had Marcus, their two girls, and this baby. In the end, that was everything. It was all she needed.

Tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @madness-roses�� @bisexual-space-slut @dindjarindiaries @frannyzooey @cinewhore @revolution-starter @mrschiltoncat @softpedropascal @paniclana @jollyrancher87 @hdlynnslibrary @maybege @corrupt-fvcker @cyaredindjarin @magicsuperheroes @flightlessangelwings @itspdameronthings @fallingoutofthe1975 @thestreamergirl

#marcus moreno #we can be heroes #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno x fem!reader #pedro pascal #marcus moreno fic #marcus moreno story

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hslllot · 3 years

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Part I. Draft Day

fic masterlist | rated: m, mature | word count: 4.6k content/warning: hockey harry, nosey family members, a very brief mention of anxiety, overzealous hockey stans.

DRAFT REPORT: The 411 on Harry Styles by John Michaelson for Sportsnet

There’s this kid named Harry Styles. He plays hockey. Ever heard of him?

At this point there’s not much else to be said about the british Fighting Hawks’ centre, a lock to be the No.1 pick in the 2015 NHL Draft.

Dubbed a generational talent, Styles’ abilities are at a level typically only seen in video games. We all know the Edmonton Oilers will select him with the first overall pick on June 26. In years to come, hockey fans from around the globe (but especially Oilers fans) will be on the edge of their seats, watching to see if the phenom can develop into a future Hockey Hall of Fame talent the way Wayne Gretzky and Mario Lemieux did.

Here’s what you need to know about Harry Styles:

Age on June 26: 19 Birthplace: Redditch, Worcestershire, England Current team: University of North Dakota Fighting Hawks Position: Centre Shoots: Left Height: 6-foot Weight: 190 lbs NHL Central Scouting Rank (North American): 1st

Harry Styles is a franchise-changing player in every sense of the word. He looked like a pro player even before he flew across the pond at a young age to play in the Canadian Hockey League. This has been a long time coming but the future is finally here.

He is talented beyond his years and always has been… Styles has played against older competition his entire career. Growing up in the small village of Holmes Chapel in Cheshire, England, the options for minor hockey teams were limited. Styles struggled to find a team in his age group that matched his talent level and was forced to play with older kids - and even then his talent was unmatched. Like the two other players from the UK currently playing in the NHL, Styles eventually had to leave home and play junior hockey in Canada, where he still had to play up a year against Canadian kids that grew up in a country that eats, sleeps, and breathes the game.

He should have been drafted 1st overall last year… Styles shocked the hockey world in 2013 when, instead of declaring for the 2014 NHL Draft, he announced he would be attending the University of North Dakota and lead the Fighting Hawks to an NCAA Championship. Styles, ever the media-trained athlete, dodged questions about why he chose to go to university for a year before joining the NHL, simply stating “University was always a part of the plan, no matter what happened with hockey.” The hockey community let out a collective sigh of relief when his agent, Jeffrey Azoff (whose father was, coincidentally, Wayne Gretzky’s agent), announced shortly after his championship win that after one year at UND, Styles would be declaring for the 2015 Draft.

His trophy case is full... Harry Styles has won pretty much every individual hockey award he could possibly win in his career so far. During his CHL career with the Vancouver Giants he won Rookie of the Year, multiple MVP awards, the award for most goals, assists, and overall points, and scholastic player of the year. During his short-lived NCAA career with UND, he won Rookie of the Year, the Hobey Baker Award as the top men’s hockey player, and was named to the Academic All-American team. Unfortunately, Great Britain’s ice hockey team will not be qualifying for the Olympics or the World Championships any time soon, so unless Styles applies for Canadian citizenship, international trophies and medals will be difficult to come by. Regardless, I have a feeling that there will be many Stanley Cups in his future.

He really hates underperforming… The kid puts a lot of pressure on himself. As we have seen with many successful athletes, an insatiable inner drive to compete can lead to greatness. Styles has that drive to be great and can be his own worst critic. “When I was growing up, my mum was worried about me because I was a bit of a perfectionist.” Styles told The Hockey News back in December. “When I had a bad game, I would get so upset about it. It’s just how I am and how I think every athlete should be. Good is never enough. It’s important to always keep learning and growing to better yourself.”

He is excited to play for the Oilers… Not that he would have anything bad to say about any of the 30 NHL teams, but the Oilers do hold a special place in Styles’ heart. “It’s a great hockey town with fans that are super passionate about the game.” He told The Hockey News. “They’ve been on a bit of a slide the last couple years but the team has a great history. Not many people watch the NHL where I’m from, but my dad was always interested in it and that’s how I got into the game. He was an Oilers fan during their dynasty years with Gretzky and Messier… So if they do end up drafting me first overall, I’ll feel honored to be a part of the team, and it’ll be a nice tribute to my dad.”

Be sure to catch our live 2015 NHL Draft coverage on June 26 starting at 5pm EST/2pm PT only on Sportsnet.

“With the first overall pick in the 2015 NHL Entry Draft the Edmonton Oilers are proud to select, from Holmes Chapel in England, Harry Styles.”

The room erupted in loud cheers and applause as the Edmonton Oilers drafted the National Hockey League’s newest and most sought after commodity.

Y/N’s closest friends and extended family roamed around her parents’ living room, congratulating one another with hugs and handshakes like one of their own family members was just drafted. That wasn’t the case though, they were all just deeply invested in the hockey team and the boy from England that was meant to turn things around after so many years of losing. They were so invested, in fact, that the family organized a gathering similar to something you might see on a holiday, like Thanksgiving or Christmas.

While it was not a normal holiday, for Y/N’s family it was just as significant. It was Draft Day. And every hockey fan in North America wanted Harry Styles to play for their team.

“That’s quite the suit, isn’t it?” Her uncle Will pointed to the television where the young man is dressed in an ornate red floral suit and black dress shirt. The suit was flashier than what most hockey players would wear, but it’s clear that Harry Styles is not like most hockey players. The camera panned to him as he stood up from his seat and hugged the two brunette women sitting next to him. He stuck out like a sore thumb among a sea of other young hockey players all dressed in variations of black and grey as they patiently waited to be drafted from the stands of the BB&T Centre in Florida. It was clear to Y/N that, much like his hockey skills, Harry Styles’ fashion sense was superior compared to his peers.

There was an air of excitement in the room as the draft party, all clad in blue and orange jerseys, watched the generational talent walk down the stairs of the arena and make his way to the stage. They collectively held their breath, the room becoming silent, when he arrived at the stage where both the owner and general manager of the team were waiting to greet him. Harry shook their hands before they handed him his own blue and orange jersey. As he slipped the jersey over his head and posed for a photograph with the executives, the silence in the room broke and excited conversations and speculations for the upcoming season continued. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a stir in her belly and a sense of anticipation for what the upcoming hockey season would bring.

Her thoughts lingered on the man on the screen, wondering what it might be like to meet him, when her brother pulled her out of her reverie. “Can you believe you’ll be working with the Harry Styles?”

No - she couldn’t quite believe it.

In fact, everything happening in her life right now seemed a bit too good to be true.

Set to start her third year of university in September and having to complete mandatory practicum hours in order to graduate the following year, she somehow managed to secure a placement with her favourite hockey team. The Oilers were only taking three students from the university program and everyone in the program wanted one of those spots.

The application process was incredibly stressful for Y/N. One telephone interview, one in-person interview, and a practical session where she had to demonstrate her athletic therapy skills to the team’s head trainer. She did well with the phone interview, given that they weren’t able to see her. She was able to look down at the talking points she wrote in her notebook and pause to take a couple deep breaths without making it obvious that she was reeling on the inside. Her anxiety got the best of her during the in-person interview though, freezing up when they asked simple questions like “why do you want to work for the team?” and “what experience do you have working with sport teams?”

She left the interview feeling embarrassed, but instead of taking the time to wallow and feel sorry for herself, she went home and spent hours upon hours taping her brothers’ ankles in preparation for the practical session the following day. There was no way she was going to let the opportunity fall through the cracks. Her dream of working for the Oilers was the whole reason she decided to go to school for athletic therapy in the first place. She was never any good at playing hockey but she knew in her heart that, someday, she would work for the team she loved so much. At the end of it all, she reckons her taping skills saved her, so she took her brother out to his favourite restaurant to thank him for letting her use his ankles for practice.

Fast forward a few months and she’s now stood in her parents living room thinking about how in three months she could be taping Harry Styles’ ankles.

At the time of her application, no one knew the Oilers would be picking first in the draft. The aura around the team was a bit negative at the time (because of all the losing) and there were rumours circulating the city that some of the star players were rude to the support staff and liked to party a little too hard at The Ranch (which contributed to said losing).

When she first decided to apply for the position her father warned her, “there’s a saying that you should never meet your heroes. What if they’re all a bunch of assholes and you end up hating the team you’ve loved your whole life?”

Y/N ignored her father’s warning but silently hoped that others would feel that way, narrowing down the applicant pool. However, the rumours circulating the team had no effect on the amount of students applying for the job. The fans were loyal in Edmonton (a city not known by many around the world unless you follow hockey or are compelled to visit North America’s largest shopping mall) and although the team was losing, every kid studying athletic therapy wanted a shot with their favourite team. Y/N knew of at least fifteen students that she beat out for the position.

Now, it’s late June and there is a general hype surrounding the team, as if Harry was about to come in and shine a light on the Decade of Darkness (a term Oilers fans use to characterize the recent years in which their favourite team hadn’t made the playoffs). That’s a lot of pressure to put on one person, but Y/N supposed that he’s been dealing with this kind of pressure since he was sixteen, maybe even younger.

Everyone at her family’s draft party was, yet again, watching the television intently while Harry gave his first interview as an official member of the Edmonton Oilers hockey team. While Y/N normally loved watching these types of interviews, she was a bit zoned out- mesmerized by the look of him. The suit, the wavy chestnut hair, the dimple in his left cheek, the accent. The accent. She had never really been that attracted to hockey players, which many people found hard to believe given that she’s such a fan of the sport. All of the guys from her high school who played minor hockey were rotten and thought they were better than everyone else. She did have favourite players in the NHL, players that she loved and admired, but they were her favourites because she loves how they play the game, not because she wants to fuck them.

There was something different about Harry Styles though. Not necessarily that she wanted to fuck him (especially since she recently signed an employment contract that would forbid it), but she was certainly feeling intrigued by him. He doesn’t look like the boys she went to high school with. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s British, or that he opted for a suit that set him apart from the rest of them, or maybe it was the duality of the way he held himself with unshakeable confidence in his floral suit, his gaze set intensely on the person interviewing him, posture strong and dominant, while simultaneously speaking so softly, his words laced with kindness and gratitude.

“When do you start working with the team, Y/N?” Her uncle Will asked from across the room, prompting everyone to look in her direction waiting for her response.

The news that Y/N would be working for the Oilers this season shook the family. As soon as her dad shared the news with his brother, she started receiving messages expressing congratulations from her many aunts, uncles, and cousins, shortly followed by messages asking if she would be getting free tickets to games.

“Um, mid-September, for training camp.”

“You get to meet Harry Styles?” her 9 year old cousin, Billy, asked.

“I do. I will be one of the team’s trainers.” The young boy held a look of wonder on his face, as if realizing for the first time that that his oldest cousin was actually kind of cool.

“Do you think he’s single?” Her aunt Maria asked with a smirk on her face, turning to the television to look at Harry Styles. Aunt Maria doesn’t care much for hockey but she never failed to mention which players she believed to be handsome. She was also the nosey type of aunt that liked to inquire about Y/N’s dating life. “Maybe you two will hit it off.”

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes at her aunt, waving off her comment. But before she could retort, her father chimed in. “Ha! Yea, right! That’s not going to happen. She’s not allowed to date anyone on the team, it’s the rules. Plus, Y/N knows better than to get involved with any of these guys.”

Her father was right. It is the rules. Y/N thought back to when she went into the Oilers headquarters back in April to sign her employment contract. She asked a lot of questions, making sure she understood everything about the document she was signing.

“Personal relationships? Even friendships are forbidden?” she asked the head trainer, TJ, for clarification.

“It depends. You can be friendly, sure, but I would avoid spending time with the players outside of training and game times. Could be seen as unprofessional.”

Y/N understood why such rules were in place, and she had no issue with it at the time. A woman securing a position on a professional sports team was rare, let alone a woman securing a position with a professional men’s team. She knew when she chose this career path that it would always be an uphill battle and that she’d have to work harder and be more strategic than the men in her field. She wanted- no, needed to excel and prove that she could be a talented athletic therapist and a valuable member of the team, so she had no intention whatsoever of messing that up with any type of personal relationships. She also understood the power dynamic between the professional athletes and the support staff, the different ways in which power can be abused, and how personal relationships could complicate things. It all made sense to her. Plus, she was happy enough with just becoming friends with the other trainers and she probably wouldn’t have a lot of free time, anyways, balancing her practicum and her school work.

Today, however, she couldn’t help the very slight pull on her heartstrings at the thought of not getting to know Harry Styles on a more personal level.

As if he’d even be interested in the first place.

In a hotel restaurant in Sunrise, Florida, a few hours after the draft, Harry Styles sat with his mother Anne, sister Gemma, and agent Jeff, celebrating his newly drafted status over a bottle of champagne. He knew he should be feeling elated, like it was the best day of his life, but all he felt was exhausted. The conversation at the table happened around him while he sat in his own head, unable to think about anything but what it might feel like to be tucked into his bed in his childhood bedroom in Holmes Chapel.

The weeks leading up to the draft were an absolute circus filled with interviews and talking to the media nearly every day (he hates talking to the media), shooting promo for all of his endorsements (he’s thankful for the money they give him but he knows he is an excruciatingly terrible actor), and flying around North America to visit all of the potential cities where he might be drafted (it was a pointless tour because everyone knew where he was going to end up).

He had only tonight to celebrate with his family before it was all set to start again. Him and Jeff will fly off to Edmonton tomorrow morning for a week to speak to the media there, meet the teammate he’ll be living with, and do a surprise skating session with some kids at a summer camp. Meanwhile, his mum and sister will fly back to England.

“Any idea where you’ll live then?” Anne asked her son, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the conversation.

“Hm?” He hadn’t a clue what his mum just asked him but he’d hate to admit that rather than listening to anything the three of them had been talking about for the last hour he’d been thinking about how he’d rather be sleeping “Sorry, I think the champagne’s got to me a bit.”

“The team’s got him living with one of his older teammates and his family.” Jeff stepped in, knowing Harry wasn’t fully paying attention. “They do this with the young guys to get them used to living on their own. Teach ‘em how to cook, do laundry, and keep ‘em in line. He won’t be partying every night and bringing girls back to his place if he lives with the guy’s wife and kids.”

“Oh please,” Gemma chimed in. “Not like any of that would be an issue for Harry. He’s been away from home for years. And he’s hardly got time for partying and dating.”

Harry shot Jeff a look warning him to keep his mouth shut. When Harry found out about the living arrangements the team had planned for him, he was less than pleased. After all, he’d just spent the last year living in a dorm room at the University of North Dakota where he had complete freedom. Gemma was right, he didn’t have much time for partying and dating. But he liked having his own space, and he really liked being able to invite someone over after a game, either to celebrate a win or relieve some stress after a loss.

“You never know, some of these young guys get their first big pay cheque and a taste of the big leagues and it can go off the rails pretty fast.”

“I like to think I raised my baby to know better than to get caught up in a pay cheque.” Anne placed a comforting hand on her son’s shoulder and he quickly reciprocated, reaching up to place his hand over hers.

Not liking where this conversation was going, Harry finally cut in. “You did. And Jeffrey, you know I’m not that kinda guy. Either way, none of this matters if I don’t make it past training camp. For all we know I could be going back to the juniors for the season.”

“Doesn’t matter who you are or what kinda guy you are, H, it’s just what the team does. It’s tradition. And c’mon, I know you like to keep your expectations in check, but the team’s made it pretty clear that you’re gonna be in the starting lineup come October.”

Jeff was right. The team had all but promised that he would make it past training camp. The question wasn’t if he’d make it past training camp, but in what shape he’d be in and how long it would take for the team to start winning games.

“The coach said I’m small and need to bulk up, especially since I’ll be playing against older, more experienced men.” Harry could feel the weight of his mum’s gaze as she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’m not quite where I need to be yet, but I’ll get there.”

Harry and his family were stood in the hotel lobby with Jeff, convening on plans for the morning when he felt a small tug on the hem of his red floral suit jacket. He spun himself around, ready to confront the individual bold enough to touch him without his consent, to find a young girl, no older than five years old staring up at him.

Harry looked at her, a bit taken aback and undoubtedly with a bit of confusion written on his face, and then spotted, a few feet behind her, two individuals who were most likely her parents. Suddenly, he realized that he may have actually had a few too many glasses of champagne and immediately tried to compose himself, standing straighter and trying to will away the exhaustion in his eyes and the haziness in his mind.

“Oh - um, hello there.” He cleared his throat before using the soft voice he reserves for adorable, small children like the one stood before him.

“Are you Harry Styles?” She asked with wide eyes and a small, timid voice.

“I am, sweetheart. What can I do for you?”

A bright smile etched itself onto her face. But instead of answering him, she looked back at the adults standing behind her, motioning for them to help as she was too shy to proceed on her own. The man, who Harry presumed was her father, moved to stand beside her.

“This is Millie. She wanted to say hi to you because she’s a big fan of yours.”

Harry lowered himself in front of the young girl so that he was crouched down and eye-level with her. “Hi Millie, it’s a real pleasure to meet you.” He reached out to shake the young girl’s small hand. “Have you got anything that I could sign? Or I suppose we could take a photo if you’d like?”

The young girl removed her hand from Harry’s, nodding her head eagerly. She began to unzip her jacket, revealing a bright orange Edmonton Oilers jersey underneath.

“Oh? Look at that! You’re an Oilers fan. In Florida?” Harry lifted himself from his crouched position and directed his question toward at the girl’s father.

“Yes, well, we actually travelled here from Edmonton, to watch the draft in person.” Harry raised his eyebrows in shock. He knew that the flight from Edmonton to Florida is long, and likely expensive. The tickets to attend the draft live probably weren’t cheap either. “It’s not every day your favourite team picks first overall! Let alone gets to pick a player like you. We were so excited so we decided to make a family trip out of it. Turn around, Millie, show him the back!” Millie’s father handed Harry a sharpie as Millie turned her back to Harry.

It was at that moment that Harry started to understand the weight of the moment. The name ‘STYLES’ was embroidered on the back of Millie’s Oilers jersey, above the number ‘15’ indicating his draft year. He was speechless. This was, after all, the first time he was seeing his name in the classic Oilers’ orange and blue colours adorned on a fan’s back.

The feeling was different from earlier at the draft when they presented him with his own jersey. This one belonged to someone else. Someone bought his jersey before he’d even ever played a single minute for the team. They flew across the continent, from Edmonton to Florida, just to watch him get drafted. It was a lot for his hazy, champagne-diluted mind to take in.

Realizing he’d just been standing there staring at the jersey, he cleared his throat once again in hopes that he could hide the unknown thoughts and emotions he was trying to reconcile. “Wow, um, I didn’t realize you could get these already.”

Millie’s father laughed, “Man, they’ve been selling these in Edmonton since they announced we’d be picking first in the draft.” Again, the feeling was overwhelming for Harry.

We’d be picking first in the draft.

To this family, and probably others in Edmonton, the Oilers were “we”. They win together, they lose together. If the Oilers pick first in the draft, they all pick first. It was their team. And now he, Harry, was a part of that “we”.

Harry reached down to sign the jersey on Millie’s back, quickly scribbling his autograph on the left side. As he straightened himself, he felt Anne move to stand beside him, apparently having sensed her son’s unease and unconscious need for his mother to join him in this moment.

“Hi, I’m Harry’s mum, Anne. Would you like me to take a picture of the four of you?” Millie’s father eagerly handed his phone to Anne and waved his wife over to be in the photo. Several photos of Harry and the family were taken, followed by a few of just Harry and Millie.

“Would you mind if I took one of Harry and Millie on my phone as well?” Anne asked as she snapped the last photo. “This is the first time Harry’s met a fan wearing his name on an Oilers jersey. We’d like to remember it.”

The family was more than happy to oblige so Anne took a few more photos on her phone, including one where Millie’s back was to the camera and the ‘STYLES’ name in full view.

It was so like his mum to understand how special the moment was and to come in and save him. He couldn’t quite articulate what he was feeling in that moment, as understanding emotions and sentimentality were not his greatest strengths, and he most definitely never would have asked to take a photo to keep for himself had she not done it.

The obvious feelings were joy and gratitude. Every day he was thankful to play the game he loved, to be successful, and to have fans that loved and supported him. It didn’t always make sense that complete strangers paid him so much attention just for playing a game, but he accepted it and always tried to show those strangers kindness in return. However, there was another feeling lingering, one that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Looking at his mum, he knew that she knew what it was. She always knew. And certainly she would make him talk about it later.

As they separated from the family and walked toward the hotel elevators, where Gemma and Jeff were waiting, Anne grabbed onto her son’s arm, holding him close as they walked side by side.

“Do you see that they love you already, my darling?” She asked. Harry raised an eyebrow at his mum, unsure of what she was going on about. “I know you. I know that you care what people think and that you are scared to disappoint them. You just need to step out on the ice and be yourself. Just be Harry. They already love you and this is only just the beginning.”

WOW! OK. I know it’s a bit of a slow start, but I wanted this chapter to be more of an introduction to harry and the mc and to the fan culture that harry is about to experience!! I’ve already started on the next part so that should be up before Christmas! If you’ve made it this far, all I can say is that I love you and appreciate you. If you liked it, please let me know. I debated not posting this so many times (and I might even regret it later) so feedback will certainly ease my troubled mind!! I ALWAYS LOVE YOU, BUT ESPECIALLY TODAY!! xx Shan.

Harry’s Draft Day Look

talk to me about generational | fic masterlist

#wow i'm so nervous to post this #generational #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #hockey harry styles #athlete harry styles

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chameshida · 3 years

Note

Your idea of a LN musical is great! It inspired me and now I’ve got some ideas for the little nightmares musical au/concept you were talking about .

Like I have some ideas for the types of songs Mono and The thin man could sing and I think Six would mostly hum her music box song (maybe before/during the first time she meets Mono) and she would probably accompany/sing along with some of Mono’s songs as they become friends, while the Thin man could sing the opening of the musical with songs similar to “Into the unknown”. “Lullaby in frog land” and “wayward souls” from Over the garden wall.

I imagine Thin man’s songs would get transmitted mostly by and through the TVs and initially his songs would have a very comforting, warm and alluring tone to them at least till the Thin man gets Mono to free him and takes Six, then when he starts chasing Mono then The thin man could sing a more villain-like and/or sinister song until Mono is able to defeats him (something similar to “wayward souls”) and because the mechanic of the game has us/Mono copy the Thin man’s movements during his fight maybe in the musical they could have Mono need to echo/recite the song The thin man is singing for him to be able to defeat him/until he is able to defeat him.

Now with Six I don’t personally think she should get a villain song, I imagine she wouldn’t sing that much on her own except as a support or accompaniment of Mono’s songs who would mostly take the Lead till the end of the musical. Although I’d like to imagine she would be the one to initiate the song they sing when they both meet for the very first time.

Maybe Mono would try to sing a song similar to the one they sang when they first met after rescuing Six from the city tower (maybe about how glad he is that she is Ok and that now everything will get back to normal) yet Six does not follow his song’s lead this time and/or doesn’t respond nor echoes his melody, she would only do that when they are about to reach the exit when she turns back to catch Mono’s hand just like she does the game, then she stops singing and then the betrayal happens and that’s when Six starts humming (just the melody) of her music box once again.

Mono could sing a lament song about the loss of his friend maybe regretting and thinking it was somehow his fault and wondering what he did wrong, then the melody could start taking a darker tone and start sounding like the “villain song” or the “Intro” of the Thin man, till Mono starts to grow up into the Thin man and the last song he sings could be something like “Into the unknown” finishing the song that was featured at the start of the musical to show that all this time they were either the same person and that the story is repeating or that Mono was always meant to take The thin man’s mantle (just like in the game)

If dreams can't come true, then why not pretend?

Oh how the gentle wind

Beckons through the leaves

As autumn colors fall

Dancing in a swirl

Of golden memories

The loveliest lies of all

I can imagine the musical playing with concepts of the TVs, old nostalgic memories and with the music as a form of escapism, by illustrating how the melodies/songs have a great power behind them which are able to affect the people surrounding them, just like in the game in which the TVs and the programs/music were able to hypnotize the viewers.

And because many theorize that the game is a loop, I think the musical could play with this concept by starting the musical with a song similar to “into the unknown” from over the garden wall and then at the end of the musical they could close it by having the intro being completed and/or repeated.

This concept was done with musical of Hadestown in which the story in universe is said to be a very old song/story which is being implied to be sang/repeated over and over with the last notes of the musical being the intro implying it’s gonna start/going to be sung over again.

I really want to try to develop this concept. (It seems great and I like it a lot!) it also seems fun to try to interpret a mostly silent game through other medium.

From my LN musical post

Oh wow that's the long one! It gets me really happy when I get long response like these for my ideas! Sorry it took me a while before I response

Yeah! LN (2 especially) did really remind me of OTGW too!

Having Thin man sing the opening song is the interesting idea, something I haven't considered. It works well if you want the musical to be the perfect loop. Although if it's to capture the OTGW feels of it I also feel like the Eyes would be the good candidate. Regardless, whoever singing the opening number is going to give off the very difference feels. I also kinda still want the kids singing. Maybe like Beauty and the Beast it can happening all at once, The town folks(Kid, establishing the universe) Belle (Mono, I want song) Gaston (Thin man, Villain song)...not as in having the eye/thinman singing like Gaston but as in part of their song being feature in the opening number. Maybe they could be the one to start, the kids being the chorus, Mono juxposition the mood.

I agree that Six wouldn't sing a lot or have her stand alone song in any of the LN2 duration. I can even imagine her voice to not like...how should I put it,...doesn't sound like a singer. She'd only sing along with Mono and it mostly sound more like a talk than a singing (at least at the start. She will get more into it as the story progress) so when she does eventually have her own stand alone song it feels special and people'd grew on her voice. As for the humming, I'd have her hum the same way in game with the scene she's only shown humming in(with exception for the last scene) as in it's isn't really the add in musical element as it is just happen organicly....FOR THE SEQUEL/LN1 however. Imagine if her song has that humming we're so familar as part of it.

(I also should clarify for my original post that Six doesn't have the villain song. at least not in LN2 and even if it's for LN1 it's still arguable if it counts as villain song since she’s the main protagonist in that one. Her last song (or her I want song as I put it) is still being sung together with Mono. I don’t know what’s the musical term for it but it’s kinda like they’re screaming on top of each other until eventually Six’s winning. Kinda like for the first time in forever reprise or Evelyn Evelyn. In this musical version Six would be explicite about the reason of why she drops Mono, a major changes in adaptation)

There are some scene I wasn't sure about like how the musical element is incoperate into the scene I wasn't sure if it should be musical , like when Six and Mono first met. I think for my version I'd like to keep it as it is with them not singing like how it happens in game but the imaginary of Mono bursting into Song at hopes of finding friend then get shove aside by Six is pretty funny to me. I think most of my song, with some exception like the letting go scene all happening in the period that can be extend/expane upon or has extra scene to it like Mono and Six first together song wbeing sing on the raft. Thin man and Mono song though I wasn't sure myself. I think they should have a sing off or song together like you mention but will it happening as Mono is killing Thin man or seperately I wasn't sure. (They could sing right before they fight maybe but the fight itself is mostly action)

(For me the song that most similar to Like ship happens similary to Like ship; the love song happens in the middle of the story)

Oh and now that you point it out For some reason in my version I completely forgot that Mono turned into the Thin man--I mean I didn’t forget that he is thin man but my version it just end without showing him turning into Thin man XD. Maybe that’s why I haven’t consider having him singing the opening number. If we follow the game and keep the scene and play fully into the concept of the loop then yeah your idea is really spot on. I think for mine since it end with him as the kid, the song is only hint in similarity of thin man without the song fully turn into his song. and the concept of loop is more of the musical element of First song and last song being the same song more than he play of actual loop.

But we do have similar idea of having the repeat song even if it happens differently XD Mono singing to Monster Six call back to their early song and Six song as she letting go is the twisted version of that same song too...Mono last song call back to his first song etc.

But yeah our version could be seperate and totally different! That’d be fun to have various intrepetation of how the musical would turn out to be. Mine is very disney-esque and steven universe-y lightheart compare to the original material but yours would be closer to that and Over the garden wall. One thing to keep in mind though is that Animated (movie? series?) with musical element in it and Musical theather is also a very different meduim and my idea is made with animated musical in mind since why I do still want a lot of scene without song in it. If it’s for musical theather then I can totally see Six and Mono sing as they meet or Mono and Thin man sing as they fight. Mybe your idea and my idea will be like the total different version/take on this

You (and anyone else who’d interest) are allow to play and tinker with this concept however you like! I’d love to see it!

#little nightmares #little nightmares 2 spoilers #little nightmares spoilers #ln spoilers #long post

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hwallout · 4 years

Text

quatervois - ljy

summary: “Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

words: 21,7k (this was 38 pages on word im,,,i birthed a monster im so sorry)

genre: assassin!juyeon, assassin!reader, angst, drama, fluff, crack if u use a microscope

warnings: (not explicit) violence, murder, language

early an: holy shit it’s here

The way you got introduced and became a part of such a job wasn’t exactly how one would imagine.

Becoming an assassin hasn’t been a direct wish of yours. As expected, in the beginning, this exact possibility had never crossed your mind. Growing up in an ordinary, middle-class household, it was expected of you to follow the footsteps of many. Never the smartest kid in class, but with a knack for logic and solving thought experiments, you’ve imagined becoming a philosopher of some type. Nothing too spectacular, but interesting enough and different than a usual 9-5 job.

So then, how exactly have you come to holding a knife against a random man’s throat almost daily?

Of course, while young, a person is prone to the effect of the outside world and people surrounding them. Some pupils are lucky enough to live in the best surroundings and are given amazing opportunities; therefore, they grow up into kind, successful people. Then, there are those who thanks to certain circumstances end up walking a different path, all of them hoping for the best possible outcome.

In today’s society, the importance of money was huge. It was expected that every family, containing at least one adult person, was able to deal with constant fluctuation of cash and sudden, unanticipated expenses. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case in many households and those kids had to experience helpless life without enough money, while their parents fought for every coin.

It was incredibly unfortunate that it affected you as well, even so in the worst possible moment – right before university.

Thanks to stupid reasons that could’ve easily been prevented, your family fell into dept, causing both of your parents to find second jobs. Not having enough money to continue with a rather expensive education, you felt obliged to find a job.

And of course, being so young and ambitious, but mostly misfortune driven, you thought that the future of the household was in your hands. It was a must to find something that pays good, fast.

Consequently, the first night was spent scrolling down the endless pages of Google. You searched for something that didn’t require any special education (because of obvious reasons), but would generously help your situation. Seconds extended into minutes, those into hours, days even. Finding a good job with no degree was pretty hard, yet what else could’ve you expected?

The issue had you visiting most irrelevant sites, clicking on shady ads (and installing a thousand viruses, probably), asking strangers in online chatrooms. Lost and unexperienced, you struggled and almost accepted the proposal of being a stripper in a famous strip club downtown.

Almost.

The job you were suddenly introduced to was something seen in movies and video games only. For whichever reason, it appeared in a dream one night. The dream had you play the main character, dressed in all black, doing all the terrifying, dirty work with random weapons, but being paid a huge sum afterwards. It was scandalous enough to have you hesitating for a little while upon waking up, disgusted at the thought of doing it.

Still, remembering the money filled suitcase, you’ve overcome the initial revulsion fast. Unexpectedly intrigued by the idea, you thought a little research couldn’t hurt anyone. Finding a reliable site that offered information on paid assassins only took a couple of minutes. The author of the article was an ex-FBI agent, therefore you thought there couldn’t be data more reliable than this. Upon a quick look, you’ve come to the conclusion that the study was most definitely written with intent of educating people on this topic, rather than motivating them to apply for it. Oh well.

From an objective point of view, it was exactly what you were looking for. It didn’t require any special degree from any university and it paid horrendously well, with small variations on the amount due to different employers. Reading further though, you realized that not just anyone can become an assassin, or hitman, as people liked to call it.

It demanded years of training, hard work and terrifying change. The author described it as “...complete mutation of one’s mind and personality, utter desensitization to almost everything. Those people become machines...”. You didn’t doubt their words, on the contrary, you believed them completely. It was only logical that a person has to get used to blood, extreme violence, emotionless murder, which were no ordinary or acceptable sights and actions. Of course, you were in denial, about to laugh at yourself for even reading the article seriously.

But then your eyes landed on the pay again. The numbers were huge. It would definitely help. Your family needed this. Sacrifices had to be made.

The next day, you bought a burner phone with the last bits of your savings. Entering an empty alley, you immediately dialed a phone number you’ve found at 3am. You didn’t know what was the worst that could happen, seeing as you were dialing a shady number from a shady website with shady intentions. Maybe the phone would blow up – in which case thankfully, it was a burner. But that then meant you wasted money with no reason.

Thankfully, the other side picked up and scheduled a meeting for the next day.

Everything about it was suspicious, from the first to the last moment. From the first meeting with a tall, fat man, wearing an expensive suit and a shiny Rolex on his wrist, to the moment that exact man patted you on the back for good luck on your first mission.

The training was all you’ve expected and more. Tears, sweat and especially blood were shed during that tough period. You were put through complete torture – whether it be emotional or physical. In the beginning, they had you watch videos containing mild abuse of random people, only to progress to horrible violence as time passed by. In times where you wanted to look away, a stern and strong man would yell at you, ordering to stay focused on the task – one that would make you used and nonchalant to seeing such monstrosities.

You were trained to take words, threats and even hits with a straight face, only to return ten times harder. Sometimes you thought that self-defense classes you were offered but never took in the past, would’ve definitely helped with the current situation. Simple pistols were immediately introduced to you, strange looking men always pressuring you into improving the mediocre aim. More complicated guns and snipers were thrown in your direction upon noticeable improvement.

Surprisingly, they began “paying” you from the start. The big boss said it was because he noticed your potential and incredibly fast progress, therefore used the money as constant motivation for further improvement. Unfortunately, the trainees you’ve encountered weren’t so positive about it, saying it was the boss’ way of making sure no one ditches out once they enter (“you’ll have to pay the complete sum back, he basically indebted you”). The money you received wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a good starting position.

In a relatively short period of time, a huge change happened. You’ve transformed from someone whose eyes watered at harsh words, body flinched at sudden movement and hands shook while holding a knife, to a person who had no trouble taking a hit to the face, only to counterattack by slitting throats.

Your knack for logic and solving thought experiments and predicting outcomes came in handy, for they’ve worked on further developing that as well. They created a thousand puzzles, testing possible situations (“you have to run away, which route do you take?", "two witnesses saw you; how do you deal with them without anyone else noticing?”), always questioning your answers (“but then wouldn’t that make you more exposed?”, “what if suddenly your target chose to change their usual route?”) and having you argument them thoroughly.

You were trained to notice even the smallest of similarities between two situations, perceive possible danger/risks, predict where a target would appear next based on their recent roundabouts and analyze certain types of behavior. Basically, they tried recreating situations that would slowly introduce you to the harder part of your future job – the planning, unnoticed execution and escape from the crime scene.

The boss had personally hired personnel to train your selective attention. Everything a normal person would pass by and dismiss, you’d notice. The unusual movement of leaves in the corner of your eyes, a black bird in a flock of dark grey ones, the inconsiderable change in a person’s demeanor, a reoccurring but overlooked detail in everyday situations.

Friends weren't particularly made in such a setting; therefore, like many others, you've been alone through it all. Evidently, you've noticed other people around, mostly teenagers who were just introduced to the whole thing – yet never really bothered or had enough time to go and meet them. Everybody was just as scared and hesitant as you were when it all started. In the end, who knew who you'd have to fight against in the future. “Save yourself a heartbreak”.

Interestingly enough though, there was a boy who caught your eye. You weren’t sure when he was recruited, for he never seemed lost or inexperienced. The boy would walk confidently around the training site, shoot exceedingly well at the shooting range and progress through his endurance training perfectly.

Silently, you watched and admired the handsome boy with attentive eyes. Everything about him was as captivating as ever, further piquing your interest with every passing day. His form and skill were envious, while his mature behavior and breathtaking looks stole your breath away.

Eventually though, the boy disappeared.

Your parents were a sensitive topic. At first, they were told the job you found didn't have fixed hours, which sounded like the only logical explanation for why you never came home at the same time.

When the training became more serious and the changes in your personality and looks became obvious, you stopped seeing them. The place of stay was a motel a couple of miles away from the training site (or the supposed store you lied working at). Despite their constant messages and phone calls, pleads to come back home and stop “overworking” yourself, you stood your ground. The money you were paid was still linked back to them, and after a while you were informed that the debt was no more.

Unfortunately, though, you've come to the point where you didn't want to back out from this horrendous job. And a couple months later, the boss forced you to cut contact with your parents.

Maybe it was for the better, because it wasn't possible to predict if they'd even recognize you. Their daughter built muscle, had a scarred body and went through a drastic change of personality. The desensitization did wonders to young minds. It came to the point where you were able to firstly watch and then execute a certain violent act (on a specialized, human-like doll), without having to look away. The two elders definitely wouldn't want such a person in their household.

Although there really should've been, there was no shame or regret once the trainee period was finished and your feet set out on the first ever mission and first real kill.

Fast forward a few years after the first mission, and you were considered a high valued assassin.

There really was no proper reason, but the flow of the river happened to direct you towards the more infamous customers. Drug dealers, wanted criminals, corrupted politicians, all sorts of people involved with illegality hired you. Over time, you've gotten used to it. Already familiarized with customers, type of targets and forms of execution, switching to work for a different type of people simply stopped crossing your mind.

Your prices weren't low at all. Actually, they were one of the highest for the job, yet with a great reason. Despite the victim count passing hundred, there hasn't been a single case that was ever (properly) solved, the employers always getting away with their work. Not even once have you been suspected or connected to any of the assassinations either, and it was all thanks to your tactics.

One could argue that there weren’t many ways a person could be murdered, but you managed to prove such a statement wrong. Not a lot of executions you've done followed the same path – which only showed how creative but also knowledgeable your mind was.

Because of one simple hair strand, whose color faded a long time ago, they called you Red. The nickname stuck with you ever since those torturous, trainee days, and nowadays, it helped avoid using your real name. You doubted anyone even knew what it was.

An interesting period began during your sixth year. Numerous politicians, usually the ones that heavily opposed the new government, would be found dead around the city. Not just them, but gang and mafia leaders who became too powerful and prominent in the public eye as well – many of those who hired you in the past.

Much like always, this government experienced the lack of trust and satisfaction from citizens. Rightfully so though, the public demanded change after supposed rigged elections, finally having enough of the fake democracy. Heavy and frequent protests blew up the nation, huge crowds of people led by a few brave individuals. Unfortunately, though, a few weeks in, the leaders of those would be found dead after announcing the protest scheme.

The terrifying amount of sudden assassinations were never solved or explained. At least to the public. The huge leap in numbers shouldn’t have been thrown under the mat so easily, yet it just happened. People began living in anger and fear. All the officials had to say about it was a simple “we're looking into it, but it’s not our main priority”, words that only intensified the rage felt by the citizens. That topic would always be dismissed with the same exact answer, occasionally adding that those assassinated already had “worrisome and problematic backgrounds”.

“It was only a matter of time when something as tragic as death would happen to them”

The situations greatly benefitted them; they wouldn't make an effort to explain whatever happened even if they weren't involved. All of those people worked against them, one way or another anyway. Still, the murders weren't spontaneous, and just like many others, you caught onto their sly play.

For a little while, you tried getting some insight and information on the cases. Your intentions weren’t to solve them and serve justice, but rather find whoever was the one hired by the government. It was pure curiosity to know who was the infamous colleague.

The information given to the public (obviously) wasn't much, and you were left connecting all the different cases using simple wide shots and shitty descriptions. The best source of information appeared to be freelancing journalists, who published the most details. Unsurprisingly though, those weren't enough for a proper open case either, for someone evidently prohibited them from posting more.

One thing that had you frowning was the fact that everything was way too clean, perfect and similar to your own way of work.

Closing the laptop after reading yet another empty article, you looked around the dark room. Sighing out in frustration and cracking fingers one by one, you wondered if you're supposed to consider those people your actual colleagues or rather enemies.

The clock ticked eleven and fifteen; just forty-five minutes before midnight. The atmosphere in the tiny apartment was calm, no sound other than your quiet breathing heard. Darkness filling your bedroom was only interrupted by the big moon that greeted you through an open window. Yet, much like any other Friday, the outside world seemed to be bustling with life, getting ready for what's yet to come.

Standing up, you stretched fast and walked towards the entrance door. Picking up a black coat from the hanger, keys and phone from the little table next to it, you headed outside. Tomorrow was yet another mission, this time a man by the name of Lee Baekgon. The reason was usual, another member of a gang who had involved himself with the government, becoming an unfortunate mole.

Thanks to the extensive week-long watch and study you've done on the man you had gotten used to his ethics and everyday habits. The experience you had and the surprisingly uninteresting and bland life of Lee Baekgon allowed you to do so in such little time – which always brought more money. The faster the execution is, the more expensive it is, and of course, you cared about the amount in your pocket.

Now, having everything planned out and prepared, you went out for a relaxing walk – as per usual on the night before. The streets were filled with people, hurrying in all directions, either coming back from their late shifts or going out with their friends.

Setting a regular pace, you camouflaged into the crowd and breathed in heavily. Colorful lights from nearby stores lit up the street in a thousand shades, creating a unique palette out of the usually dull path. Your eyes skimmed over people, not really staying locked on anyone's head or scalp. All of them were plain shapes to you, only looking similar to those who you've had the job of executing. Either way, it was pleasurable to hear the overall sound of people. The voices, laughs, gasps.

Suddenly and surprisingly, as if trained, your eyes locked onto a tall, lean, dark blue haired man walking in the opposite direction. It could’ve been because of his height or hair, but he stuck out of the dense crowd like a sore thumb. The stranger wasn't looking at you, rather ahead of himself, but you immediately scanned his profile. An unfamiliar feeling spread through your body, sending shivers down your spine.

The man carried himself with a certain kind of confidence, his steps calm and collected. He held his head high, looking forward as if staring at an invisible dot, walking towards an unknown destination. His eyes, although dark and hooded, were sharp and focused. The nose bridge of his created a slight shadow over the side of his handsome face.

Unexpectedly, as if sensing your eyes, the man looked back for a short second. Immediately, a familiar image of a teenage boy who exceeded in all training fields flashed before your eyes. Alas, before you knew it the man was taking a sharp turn and straying away from view.

The organ inside of your chest performed one incredibly hard beat, before going back to normal. Someone bumped your shoulder, apologizing right away and breaking the short-lived daze. For another moment, you stood motionless, looking in the direction of the other, the blue strands now long gone.

Shaking your head quickly and picking the pace up again, you tried processing what has just happened.

You'd see the man quite often after laying eyes on him for the first time. He even had a nickname. Blue.

Blue's fashion was quite predictable now, for the man seemed not to prefer colorful clothes. During the day, his wardrobe consisted of simple t-shirts, black jeans and occasional black leather jacket. One thing that changed almost daily though, was the bag that he'd carry. Nonetheless, Blue would always walk as nonchalantly and confidently as ever.

Each time you'd encounter him, the man would remind you of that certain boy. Weirdly enough, Blue never once looked back, no matter how many times or how close you'd pass by. No matter what though, you'd notice the same pair of sharp eyes peeking through thick blue bangs – a feature you very well remember.

The second thing that would have anyone's interest piqued, was that you'd see the man at the shooting field as well. On the days when you decided on visiting and practicing your (already impressive) aim, he would already be there. You'd watch from afar, the last couple of shots he'd take before turning around to leave. The male never once stayed any longer. Blue wouldn't even check on his hits - he'd shoot thrice and leave immediately.

A thing that many would fail to notice, would be the fast movement of his arms as he pushed the gun back into his rucksack.

Over time, you've realized that the number of encounters with Blue was too great for a stranger. The possibility of it not being an accident started bugging you. Eventually, it became worrying.

In the dead time of the night, while walking through forgotten alleyways no one really passes through, you'd see him. On rainy nights, while everyone else ran or hid away as to not get soaked, Blue would walk calmly.

And maybe he had always been there, yet you simply never cared or gave it enough attention up until recently. Or maybe, it was something more serious.

His sight would often be locked onto his feet, hands shoved deep into jean pockets. During the night, Blue would wear all black, a mask and hood frequently covering up his face, yet the dark blue strands never failed to peek out. He'd also wear the same black worn out backpack, the one he never brought out in the daylight.

Although you've met and dealt with many different kinds of people, never once had someone managed to make you feel so curious but anxious at the same time. Neither of those feelings felt good.

Despite your initial pleasant surprise, Blue became someone who you disliked pretty fast. It bugged you how the two worlds happened to overlap at the most unconventional of times. Whether it was when you were spying on someone, following them or coming back to the base with blood on your hands, the man would make his appearance. You suddenly felt as if this stranger had a whole insight of your life and knew all of your secrets. As if he was aware of your job and worked as a spy whose target was you.

Feeling apprehensive was something you never expected to experience, especially while out of work. For the first time ever though, you thought about executing someone who you weren't ordered to take out.

Thanks to instances such as those stated earlier, you've developed a side mission over time. As if in you were in a game and suddenly had to unlock another small part of the main story to progress. There was an undying need to find out if your suspicions were correct and what exactly was so off-putting, upsetting about this man (who seemingly did no real harm to you). And of course, if there was a way to fix it before jumping to the last, desperate solution.

Truthfully, you never got any thrill from the pure act of execution. Taking someone's life was as emotional as raw poetry, but those emotions were never felt by the heart, much less the brain. Sometimes you wondered what your thoughts on everything would've been if you hadn't changed so much.

Taking another deep breath, you grit your teeth and backed the scared man against a wall. With a knife held close to his Adam's apple, the man gulped and winced for the last time. Fat beads of sweat raced each other against his neck. There was no remorse for the other – neither him or the rest of his happy family.

You didn't hear the pleads and wishes of the victim, as the cotton gag filling his mouth prevented any noise from escaping. The thin blade sliced through skin and flesh in a delicate manner, effectively damaging his windpipe. The man gasped for air, but only coughed back blood. White cotton soon changed color. Watching the white material turning red didn't make you feel any different, just like the eyes of the man who struggled in pure agony.

Only when it looked like the blood was about to create a puddle on the ground, did you remove the cotton. The other gasped two, three more times, too exhausted and lightheaded to take any action. With much force, you pulled the body towards an open manhole and dumped it inside, listening to the way it heavily fell into the water.

That's what drug debt does to you.

Closing the manhole up, you stuffed the bloody cotton inside your coat and hid the knife inside of your boot. Taking off black gloves and mask, you pushed them beside the cotton and walked in the opposing direction than the one you came from.

The connected alleyways seemed to go on forever, but they were no unfamiliar place to you. To say that you used them often wasn't a lie, but there was rarely anyone else doing the same. Light steps echoed shortly; the fog that unusually filled the tight space became thicker as you delved deeper. Suddenly, there was yet another echo coming from the other direction. The person was seemingly walking towards you. Unconsciously, you prepared to reach down for the knife.

Through the fog you could faintly make out a silhouette of a man approaching. Every step you took allowed a clearer view of the other, and eventually the full sight of his figure. With an exaggerated eye roll and in pure disbelief, you silently cursed your absolute luck. It once again proved to be just who you expected.

Blue walked with hurried steps, something you haven't seen before. Upon coming close enough to you, he looked up from the ground, pace slowing down and eyes meeting for the first time in a long while. Time seemed to slow down as well for both, one short moment extending to unexpected lengths.

Both were dressed in similar, dark attire, carrying a fake expression of innocence. Yet, the moment their irises met, a certain feeling spread throughout their bodies, as if they quietly confirmed it wasn't a coincidence that they met here at this time.

No words were exchanged, the moment finally ending as you passed by each other. There was a strong urge to look back after the other, but an inner voice whispered quietly, saying it was smarter not to do so. Not even when the man's steps promptly stopped echoing and you felt eyes on your back.

A couple of steps later, you picked up on a sudden, but barely noticeable smell of human blood. For a moment, you were tricked into thinking it was the cotton or knife that were stuffed inside your coat. Still, the closer you got to a certain container leaning against a building wall, you realized it couldn't be it.

Once a foot away from the huge object, you stopped. The smell wasn't at all strong, but still noticeable enough. You didn’t want to interfere with whatever took place, but it didn’t take long to realize someone laid dead in there. In the end, it was the smell you were surrounded with pretty much daily.

Dots were beginning to connect slowly, but you were once again forced into moving. The feeling of being watched was making you feel uneasy, but this time you were tempted enough to turn around.

There was no one standing where you expected them to. He was gone.

Sighing out loud, you turned around, took a quick left and finally walked out of the alleyway. There were almost no people on the streets, and the weird feeling was finally gone. The walk back to the base was just enough time to analyze all the different possibilities that unexpectedly plagued your mind.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that it happened so soon.

A few rather peaceful days have passed since your last encounter with him. Time seemingly fled by, but unlike many other, these days were calm. The missions have come to a stale; therefore, you effectively used your free time to do chores and visit the market. In the end, the fridge wouldn't fill itself up.

The thin paper bag swung side to side as you walked. Cans and bottles made an unrecognizable but even melody as they clashed against each other. Lost in thought, you aimlessly walked forwards, enjoying the cool gust of wind hitting your face.

But then, in the corner of an eye, you picked up on a man running towards you.

He was in his forties, a body of short, strong and somewhat fat build covered by a formal, grey suit. There was little to no hair in the middle of his head, while two thick patches spread on the sides. He wore a panicked expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all but screaming for help. It took him only a few seconds to reach you.

“Miss?” The man panted, immediately bending down to place his hands on his shaking knees. “Miss, I beg for your help”.

Glancing at his face again, you recognized the other as Mr. White - a man who has been barking against the government quite a lot recently. The propaganda he preached was slowly but surely gaining more supporters, and it suddenly clicked for you. This little rat probably had a sudden reason to feel unsafe and afraid of experiencing the same end as many others. What a shame he was brave only on the TV.

For a moment, you were hesitant, unsure if accepting to help was a right thing to do. Especially when such a person was in question. You waited a minute, while the other gathered his thoughts and managed to form coherent words. He must’ve sensed your reluctance, for not another second was wasted before he began explaining.

“I’m sorry, I feel exposed and like I’m being followed and...” Mr. White went on, blabbering something you only hummed along to, while scanning the surroundings. The park he came from wasn’t that crowded, unlike the last time you’ve passed by. There were only a few families playing with their kids and people walking their dogs.

Nothing out of the ordinary, yet a certain man walking a tall Doberman managed to have you interested.

“...that hooded man...”

Lips moving to form a smirk, you almost patted yourself on the back for suspecting the right person. The stranger was rather tall, wearing black fitting jeans and an oversized cherry red hoodie. Despite it being warm outside, a big hood was pulled over his head, and his face was somewhat covered by a cap he wore underneath. A strong hand gripped the chain leash that held a dauntingly big, black Doberman on a trained distance, walking in a calm pace. The dog was huge, with ears pointed up and forwards, steps elegant but threatening. One could swear that it could rip a man’s head off with one bite.

“Why didn’t you take a taxi?” You asked back, cutting off the current ongoing speech.

“I tried... I tried calling for one but... none... none stopped, please help me... stay with me, wait with me” He practically begged, knees bent and hands pressing together as if praying. Passerby watched the scene unfold with surprised expressions, some even mocking the way the male behaved. Frowning at the current situation, you pulled the man up by his bicep, not in the mood for any unnecessary drama. He looked way too pathetic.

Nodding as a reply, you started walking towards the pedestrian crossing not so far away. On the other side, at the designated spot, you’d be able to call for a taxi.

The whole time, you ordered Mr. White to walk in front - as if your smaller form would be any coverage for him. Despite not being strong, the wind was still powerful enough to carry the quiet echo of footsteps behind you. The person walked with the same pace, keeping suspicious distance.

Once at the traffic light, you stopped. The panicked politician didn’t dare move, his limbs stiff and frozen like a paused frame. At the given moment, you weren’t sure if the man was even breathing – his chest wasn’t at all moving. Unfortunately, the wait for the light to turn green was quite long. The steps that used to echo behind you came to a halt as the suspicious man finally caught up. It was then that you turned around to look at him – eyes meeting with a pair that held no emotion inside of them.

Blue looked even more handsome up close and in broad daylight. With fierce eyes and dominant aura, he seemed quite intimidating. While his facial features now resembled a grown man, they once again reminded you of that certain young boy. It was a sudden flash of clear memory, something you’ve only experienced while crossing paths the blue haired man.

Blue attentively caught onto your interested gaze, for his eyebrow rose and lips formed a smirk. Slowly, as if you were supposed to notice, he glanced behind at the motionless politician and then back at you, this time with a wider smirk. Such a bold move.

And of course, it shouldn’t have surprised you that it was him. Coincidence no more; your doubts were crumbling down like a house of cards thanks to the sudden stimuli.

The black dog watched you like prey, hungry eyes tracking every move. Thankfully, it was properly held in its place by the stronger man.

As soon as the light turned green, Blue took off, not sparing any more attention to neither of the two. The Doberman trailed in suit, walking graciously beside its owner, following the exact pace. You let him a few steps ahead, before crossing the street with Mr. White who seemed more relaxed now.

Paying the last bit of attention to the young man, your eyes unconsciously trailed down his leg. Immediately, you noticed the outline of a certain object that strained against the material of his fitting jeans. With a quick analysis, you recognized the weird shape – it was a knife.

That was it; exactly all the additional information you needed. The young boy grew up to be someone you now worked against.

Work, work, work. That’s all your mind was filled with for the past few weeks, and with a good reason. Being an undiscovered assassin often demanded immense amounts of creativity (which really proved to be hard when unmotivated) to avoid similarities between cases. Sometimes, you even had to choose the riskier and more public approach, much like today.

The current mission demanded a month-long preparation and as crazy as it might sound, obtaining explosive was the easiest part of it. You were lucky to have a couple of acquaintances who somehow had the exact stuff you needed, and at a great price as well.

For exactly four weeks, you’ve watched over a certain man, a tall, strong and well-known drug dealer called K. Besides actively selling all sorts of opium and illegal substances, the man led a powerful gang named The Vipers. You’ve never been hired by that gang, but you’ve heard a lot about them through numerous connections and accidental eavesdropping. Sometimes, you thought that assassins were the biggest threat to their employers, thanks to the amount of insider knowledge they pick up on over time.

The Vipers heavily depended on their leaders, brothers K and B. The older sibling, K, as the stronger leader, took most control over their big bites, while B did the other, sporadic and less serious work. Still, they cooperated perfectly, working in sync to create a big, illegal underground market, that the government never spoke about.

Unfortunately, they got themselves into a big fuss with another powerful gang, Weiro, the details never once directly explained to you. There were a couple of things that you could’ve suspected went down, but really, it wasn’t your job and interest. Anyhow, Weiro employed you, with a strict order to kill K in an extravagant way that will have his gang warned properly. Their request had your eyes rolling back; music wishes were never a favorite.

For a whole month, you studied the man, all of his whereabouts and paid attention to the people he interacted with from an unassuming distance. While K probably lived a very stressful and interesting life behind the closed doors of his hideouts and warehouses, his everyday ethics were pretty bland and easy to predict. Of course, you weren’t the one to complain, for it made your job easier.

During that time, you’ve also thought of an extravagant but careful enough way to finish the mission. Thankfully, creativity wasn’t a skill you lacked most of the time.

The plan was simple when broken down. Every third day, at 4pm, K. drives from his home to The Vipers’ main warehouse. He takes the exact same route to reach that destination in the shortest period of time, driving either his black Porsche or B’s red Dodge. Both cars were one of a kind in the area. There are exactly 6 traffic lights he has to stop at before advancing to the highway and leaving the city. With some advanced work, you managed to interfere with them through a tiny device that was set up and connected to a phone. It still didn’t work at command (which you wish it did), but it bought some time by prolonging the red light.

Thankfully, your city had a wide chain of sewers that spread under every single street, numerous manholes leading in and out.

The public town cameras positioned at almost every corner were connected to your phone as well, allowing a great view of the street you’ll be operating on – or underneath, for a better narration. Navigating through the sewers should be relatively easy, thanks to the map you’ve studied numerous times. After interrupting the traffic light, K’s car will (presumably) stop right above a manhole, through which you’d be able to set up a 30-second explosive. The car should explode a street away, killing K.

Surprisingly enough, the plan worked out perfectly. With hurried steps you’ve walked into one of the empty alleyways, immediately running towards an already open manhole. There was a bright yellow warning that indicated a hole in the ground – one that no one closed even after a whole year of the sign just standing there. Looking around for the last time, you slipped in, sprinting away the moment your feet touched the ground.

Steps echoed through the empty tunnel, contact with wet surface only creating loud splashing noises. Currently, the screen of your phone was split, half showing the camera display of the street and half exhibiting a blue button and a frozen counter. A few minutes of fast navigation through the sewers, you looked up, realizing the designated place was there. A quick look up granted proof that the plate was there. K was then taking a turn, only a few hundred meters away from you.

With a quick and forceful tap of the blue circle, you watched the light turn red.

The powerful vehicle driving closer appeared even louder down there. When K stopped and the noisy engine came to a halt, the cameras were there to confirm his perfect position. Hurriedly, you climbed up, working the plate open with a miniature crowbar (that you carried in a backpack, along with the explosive). Then, with calculated and calm movements, the metal cover was carefully moved and the car was right there.

Huge amount of smoke entered through the opening, making you cough. Much like always, time was precious and there were only twenty more seconds. Skillfully, you securely tied the tiny bomb to the underside of K’s vehicle, closing the manhole up and setting the timer off immediately after.

The light turned green and the mighty engine roared for its last time.

Taking a clean jump down, you ran back the same way. Somewhere in the middle, you heard a huge bang, followed by strong vibrations of the ground. Smirking, you nodded in satisfaction because of yet another case well done.

Outside, on the main street, while many panicked about the car currently on fire and a dead man inside, the familiar blue-haired stranger watched with calm in his irises. He was leaned on one of the walls, laughing at the scared pedestrians and their clumsiness. Then, as if programmed, the moment you came out of the alleyway, he turned to face you.

Caught like a deer in headlights, you stopped in tracks. Blue smirked boldly, nodding slightly with a raised eyebrow – as if giving props for the finished job. Once again, an anxious feeling overtook your body, slight goosebumps appearing on soft skin. Gulping, you took a deep breath and walked right past, trying not to look intimidated by his sharp gaze.

Despite the familiarity you felt, Blue never once showed any signs of knowing who you once were or where you came from. Yet, it looked as if he knew exactly who you were and who you worked for currently, which was a worse situation to be in.

Once again, you aimlessly walked through lit up, bustling streets. Unnecessarily, you felt like a part of the normal community during these times. The chilly wind was somewhat relaxing against warm skin, serving as a distraction from overthinking. There were a thousand things that could go wrong every time, and thinking about them wouldn’t make anything easier. In the end, your skill and instincts never failed you, every move already memorized as muscle reflex.

About twenty minutes in, you caught onto a familiar person a few meters ahead. There was a small group of people separating the two of you, therefore they allowed short glimpses. Still, the tall, lean physique and dark blue hair that gleamed under the street light, gave their identity away. It was him.

The man’s posture was something you were already used to – relaxed, with steps long but calculated. His head was bent down lifting up for a second only, before falling down again. With the way his arms were positioned, you supposed the male held a phone or some sort of device in his hands. Not daring to approach, you chose to follow his movements from a safe distance.

A tall, strong man took a quick right turn into one of the side streets, effectively distancing away from the crowd. You wouldn’t have paid any special attention to him, if it weren’t for Blue’s gradual stop as well. Choosing not to blow the cover off, you continued with the same pace for a little while, ignoring the other as you passed right by. After about thirty more steps, you sat on one of the free benches that allowed a clear view of the blue haired man.

He stood on the same place, now leaning against one of the street lamps, phone still in hands. The device lit up Blue’s beautiful features, his stern eyes occasionally looking up and at the direction that man disappeared in. From his actions, you presumed he was the next target, and the assassin was only studying his behavior and roundabouts.

Although you couldn’t see, Blue watched the man enter one of the buildings, then waited for the lights on the 3rd floor to turn on and a window to be opened, much like always. When that happened, he pushed the phone into his jacket and turned around, happy with the final observation. You sneakily watched from afar, admiring the relaxation and carefreeness.

Then unexpectedly, Blue turned his head slowly, eyes meeting with yours. They found you so easily and that’s when you realized there was no cover to begin with. The uneasiness once again itched your skin. It was clear that he was aware of your positioning, hell, he probably even knew when you were behind him. The man’s eyebrow rose in an amused manner, before he looked the other way and walked away.

Something told you to go and follow.

Taking careful and light steps between people, you tried to stay as low-key as possible, although the other probably expected – scratch that, knew – you were behind. His phone rang, an annoying ringtone interrupting the previous atmosphere. Blue picked up quick, talking quietly but laughing loudly at whatever the person on the other end said. Quickening the pace, you were able to get close enough to hear pieces of their conversation – unfortunately it wasn’t anything interesting, rather a casual talk between two friends. You suspected the man used this as a foolish cover.

Suddenly, he turned a corner, disappearing right behind. The phone call was still ongoing, his strong voice echoing through the alleyway for just a short period of time before getting lost in silence. You waited a couple of seconds before advancing.

It was your shadow that first made it around, but it made no effort of warning you about what’s to come. A silent scream left your lips, as the man you’ve been stalking for the past twenty minutes stood right ahead. His body was so incredibly close, minty breath fanning against your face. The corner of his lips formed a teasing smirk.

“Hello, Red” He spoke, voice low, but with a pinch of playfulness in it. His big hand lifted up and reached behind your ear, taking a hold of a certain strand of hair. Noticing the expected color was no more, Blue frowned lightly. “Oh? It’s not red anymore?”

His act evidently surprised you, eyes wide open and lips parted slightly. The fact that he called you Red had only increased the bewilderment. A battle of foreign emotions started inside of your mind and chest. A foreign, bubbly feeling was fueled by pure hope that the other somehow remembered you, while the rational mind suspected the man’s real intentions and knowledge. In the end, Blue had never once interacted with you directly, how would he know about a hidden strand? Who did he hear it from?

“Hello, Blue” You replied, looking him right in the eyes and choosing to ignore his previous question. There was a slight tinge of dominance in your words, something that the other wasn’t quite expecting. “Nice to finally meet you”

“Haven’t you a long time ago, though?” He questioned, the smirk now turning into a light-hearted smile. Something about it had you wanting to wipe it off immediately. Nevertheless, his words once again had a double meaning. They echoed in your mind, replaying like a never-ending mantra. Technically, the two of you were no strangers, but what reason should you give him? Was it thanks to the faith that intertwined your paths or was it the history you’ve indirectly shared?

“Let’s just say I like to make things formal like this” The more you observed the man’s features, the more you grew intrigued. He was just so perfectly sculpted, and it made no sense that someone as breathtaking as him busied himself with such dirty work. Yet, God only knew what had forced the young boy to choose such a path.

“Well then, my name is Juyeon” Blue extended his hand for a handshake, once again showcasing just how big his hands were. Not bothering to take the gloves off, you accepted his greeting, somehow managing to feel the roughness of his palm over the black leather. A quick mutter of your own name was seemingly enough for Juyeon, for he hummed along and repeated it with the same tone. You didn’t miss the smooth flow of the vowels off his tongue.

Tranquility enveloped the small alleyway. Wind blew through it in strong waves, messing up your hair. Two frames stood just a step away, never once breaking eye contact, but prolonging the silence that swallowed every other sound. It was becoming awkward, yet neither knew how to bring up topics that obviously interested both.

“So, want to grab coffee, or?” Juyeon asked, breaking the suffocating atmosphere. His words served as a splash of cold water that brought you back into Reliaty, eyes averting their gaze for the first time. You watched a rat run from one trash can to the other, disappearing behind it in a matter of seconds.

“No, I actually have something more important to do” The truth was, you wanted to go with him out of pure curiosity, but a lot was holding you back. Even after imagining this exact moment a thousand times, you weren’t sure you were ready for it. Apart from that, there was yet another more impulsive reason for the refusal. You’ve been taught that everyone was an enemy when looked at from the right angle, especially in this job. Therefore, you were to deny as a precaution to not allow just anyone to use any information against you.

And what’s the most unfortunate was that Juyeon wasn’t just anyone. He was exactly your type. Which meant that he was both the most dangerous and safest of them all. The worst combination.

“But less important than following me for about...” The male looked down at his watch, an expensive device tightly secured around his wrist, “20 minutes?”. Blue's expression was one of curiosity, probably anticipating the reply to his remark.

“I had time to kill” It wasn’t at all believable, but the other let it slide with a slight chuckle. He glanced at you with an amused look, before speaking.

“Kill huh? Working so late?” Juyeon teased, the chuckle from before now growing into an audible laugh. Truthfully, this exact reply had caught you off guard pretty well and the silence that suddenly spread was a solid proof of it. Fortunately, though, the other allowed time to think of an answer properly, all while having the cheekiest smile spread on his lips.

“Why so surprised? Weren’t you doing the same a little while ago?” Juyeon nodded at your question, shoulders shrugging fast as if to nonchalantly approve of it. You were quite surprised with his quick confirmation that didn’t hold a pinch of hesitance. It felt as if he was perfectly fine with verifying all of your suspicious and letting you know about the trivial things. Logically speaking, it was only fair, considering how much he apparently knew about you.

“Well then... I can’t do anything about your time” Tsking to show fake disappointment, the male pushed his hands into tight jean pockets and gazed down. It was surprising that he wasn’t pushing the proposal, rather accepting the denial. For whichever reason, your pride accepted a decent hit. With one foot, he carelessly kicked a rock on the ground with a heel, making something underneath his shoe cling. The sound didn’t go unnoticed.

“I guess I’ll see you around then” Juyeon added, before turning in the other direction and slipping away. Before you could react, the man was already ten steps ahead, carrying himself in the same relaxed fashion as before. His steps echoed, the soles of his shoes way too hard on the ground. Upon a quick accidental look, you noticed a piece of shiny metal on his heels, reflecting off the light that happened to hit them directly. Huffing was your only reaction to it.

The whole way back, your thoughts were a hectic mess, one that couldn’t be calmed down, for they always wandered towards the blue haired assassin.

You never really liked warehouses, for they were way too open. Thankfully though, the one you were working in today wasn’t empty – crates and boxes filled with unknown substances and materials were scattered all around, as well as machinery that’s used to move them around. Overall, all of those objects allowed much cover and plenty of room to comfortably work around the broad place. Moreover, your steps weren’t going to echo too much in such a setting.

Today’s target was a man named Captain Lee, a case similar to about a hundred others previously assigned – work with government officials. You never cared how many people did what, but you supposed the most died because they hadn't paid their part of the deal or smuggled with the government. Either way, they happened often and you will never run out of work just because of that.

Hidden and on a great distance, you watched Lee and another man (assumed government official) enter the warehouse. Unfortunately, both had a generous number of bodyguards, but luckily, none were allowed inside. The huge door was the only easy entrance option, but since that would immediately ruin the mission, you decided to infiltrate some other way. Working fast and precise, you climbed up set of drainpipes and entered through an open window on the roof. Done in less than three minutes – record time. Dropping down was a more challenging move, but nothing too bad, for you entered far enough from the two men to remain unnoticed.

Your shoes that were two sizes bigger, proved to be a bigger hassle today than ever before. The metal railing was very hard to move over without making any unnecessary sound. The mask on your face helped you breathe properly, the air being way too stale for anyone’s liking. Thankfully, there were no major light sources that would interfere with your cover. Full black attire matched perfectly with the semi-dark surroundings.

The voices of the two males weren’t loud, but in an empty space like this, the echo was immense. It helped you navigate around or between the crates and gigantic shelves in the most accurate manner. The pistol in your hand was already equipped with a silencer, your hand reaching up to stabilize it for the last time. Slowly, you sneaked closer, back pressed against a set of boxes.

Then, unpredictably, something moved in the corner of your eye.

Stopping dead in tracks, your full attention moved to the staircase not so far away. It was protected by one of the huge machines – those you supposed organized all of these crates. Your mind promptly wandered off to the worst scenario – it must’ve been a guard you failed to notice. Gripping the pistol with more force, you aimed at the suspicious area, holding the bullet in, but ready to fire if needed.

Despite the darkness, you noticed a puff of blue hair. Lowering the gun with an inaudible sigh, your eyes rolled back, jaw clenching in frustration. The boy peeked out carefully, irises finding yours in an instant. He nodded in your direction, hand moving slightly in a low wave.

Looks like the day has come when the two sides get to work together.

Juyeon seemed to realize that as well, for he moved closer to the edge of his cover, evidently willing to make a plan of action. For a moment, ego and pride made you think about ditching the offer, why would you ever need help? But on a second thought, he would definitely make everything easier, and who in their right mind would deny that? Shuffling closer, you accepted the silent proposal with a nod.

Although far away, the two succeeded in communicating through short signals, functionally organizing a proper scheme. You’ve got to know the male was equipped with a knife only – which really didn’t make things easier, but it was possible to work around it.

Juyeon got moving quick after ending the discussion, making his way around the warehouse. You watched his steps until he disappeared, readying yourself to fire at Lee and disappear if anything goes wrong. In the end, you weren’t going to risk getting caught because of someone else’s mistake all while already being so close to completing your part of the job.

Once in position, the other assassin threw a coin in another direction, the tiny object immediately serving as a distraction. Exactly then, both of you jumped out of cover, not giving the two men any reaction time before It was too late.

Juyeon grabbed the official from the back and covered his mouth with one hand, the other coming up to slit his throat, while you fired two rounds at Lee’s head. The pistol, although suppressed, made two sets of noises that still sounded through the warehouses.

Experienced, you knew that if the bodyguards had trained ears, they’d pick up on the sound. Therefore, in a hurry and with a wish to get out of there asap, you grabbed Juyeon’s unoccupied hand and took off running. Hurried steps probably made more sound than the shots you were worried about, but thankfully there was still no one that could hear them.

Juyeon diligently followed behind, holding onto the thin blade and occasionally looking back at the entrance door. Fortunately, both of you were able to reach the exit in a matter of few minutes. Just a moment before slipping out, he picked up on a glimpse of two bulky silhouettes entering the warehouse. Pay people to protect you, only to be murdered without witnesses. Bodyguards my ass, Juyeon thought.

Neither spoke until far away from the mission location. Walking through the woods, both tried making as little noise as possible, gripping their weapons tight just in case there was any more danger. In the natural setting, black clothes greatly contrasted the greens, yellows and browns. Nonetheless, the two figures silently walked through with determination.

Only when in complete clear, did the both stuff their weapons inside their attire, taking the hoods and masks off before anyone could notice. More relaxed and less covered up, you’d look like a normal couple taking a walk in the nature. The road you took led towards the center of the city, but it was a long, long walk.

After scanning your emotionless face for a few minutes, Juyeon was the first to break the silence.

“Don’t you feel the smallest bit of remorse? He had a sick wife and year-old twins waiting for him at home” The question was a pure shocker. Instantly stopping in place, you looked the other in the eye with the most baffled expression. Out of everything he could’ve asked, that’s what he chose to say? Was he judging you? Was he expecting you to actually care?

You weren't sure where he was coming from.

“Excuse me? Do you? Are you any better than I am?” You bit back, hoping the pure annoyance that dripped from your words reached the other. Juyeon’s face didn’t change at all though, it remained blank, as if your passive attack hadn’t even touched him. As if you were getting worked up for no reason.

“He didn’t have a family; I don’t sign such things; therefore, I don’t feel that way” The male replied, in a matter of fact tone. His attention wasn’t on you, but an invisible dot in the distance, somewhere between all of the trees and bushes. Still, he could clearly feel you looking at him with a suspicious expression.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes. I have a choice and I choose not to do it, simple as that. Not everyone works for the same people and has the same goals as you”

You wondered how can someone make your blood boil in such a short period of time. Much like you, Juyeon trained for years; it was a fact that he had no empathy for any of his victims – such thing was inevitable. Every assassin in training had to go through the desensitization program, and no one was different than the other when it came to feelings of this kind. So, what exactly was he trying to do with his questions?

Why did it matter if you cared or not? Why did it matter if someone had a family or not? What was the difference? Just because he worked for ‘the good guys’, he got to be the morally right one? What even was it they fought for? Peace, order, harmony in the community as a whole? Or satisfaction, more power of the hungry ones on top by murdering individuals? You had to laugh.

All these years of work and you’ve never once stopped to think about someone’s family or friends, for it simply wouldn’t have changed anything about the final decision. “No hard feelings” was one of the few rules of the whole ordeal. Killing people was your job, the execution of someone didn’t have anything to do with their sick wives or young children.

You stepped forward, pressing a finger into Juyeon’s chest.

“Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

At this point, you were fuming, jaw clenched and eyes boring holes into the other’s forehead. Although your voice was hushed, it was quite authoritative. The boiling blood that flowed through veins quick only fueled your irritated brain. Truthfully, the boy did feel slightly intimidated, but more so intrigued.

“Get your head out of that utopia mindset. “Oh I’m killing because that helps keep our community peaceful”, no! You’re killing to make the rats on the top happy and get paid a fortune! You’re taking a life whoever you’re working for. It does not matter if they have ten starving children, or a sugar baby waiting for them at home. There’s a reason they should be dead and you’re not the one to question it! Much less using family as an argument! That’s pointless!”

Juyeon didn’t try and oppose your thoughts, only watched your annoyed being work itself up with every sentence spoken. The smirk on his lips slowly grew wider, eventually turning into an honest smile. Although not in ideal conditions, you managed to captivate him so much, and the man wanted to know and hear more from you, even if that meant you had to yell at his reasoning.

It was interesting how the tables have turned though. Juyeon suddenly wanted to continue observing and listening to you, admire this smaller being that held so much power and determination. It was only now that the male realized the appeal of doing so, after so many years of wondering just what had you looking at him from a distance for so long. The two of you were so different now, despite being so similar back then. Yet the one thing that hadn't changed, was the beauty of the young girl that had evidently followed her into adulthood.

He’d hardly admit it, but he was glad that faith had done its job at setting the two of you up again.

Thanks to your state, the next fifteen minutes went by without any more words. Juyeon kept a safe distance, a couple of steps behind you, unsure of what to do. The tension was beginning to make him uncomfortable. At one point, the thin blade placed inside of his hoodie moved, and the boy let out a fast yelp. The knife managed to shift in such a way that fortunately didn’t harm, but warned the other of its position.

Juyeon crouched down and pushed one arm underneath his hoodie, moving the weapon and trying to push it deeper into the hidden fluffy pocket. For whatever reason, worried about the lack of presence behind, you turned around and noticed the man crouching down, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Approaching out of pure curiosity, you lowered to be on eye level – not quite expecting Blue’s next move. Just to break the unbearable tension, he thought.

With a quick grasp of your arm, Juyeon pulled you towards him, falling back into the soft grass. The two figures fell down, one of which was smirking wide with hooded eyes and the other wore an astonished expression.

“You see Red, you’re some type of enemy for the regime as well, working for sketchy people and killing unnoticed... Be more careful, otherwise I can make some money off you too” The boy joked, voice calm but low. His sudden change of demeanor had you pleasantly surprised and without much thought, you joined in on the play. Situated on top of him, you lowered yourself down, just a few inches away from his face.

“Oh, you can, but you won’t” You replied back, a smirk of your own bidding its hello.

“What makes you think I won’t?” Juyeon answered, suddenly pressing something sharp against your stomach. In any other instance, the action would have immediately set off your self-defense mechanism, but right now, the man was allowed to have his harmless fun. Somehow, you felt the other wasn’t a threat, and your senses never lied to you.

“Because it’s against your morals, pretty boy. You wouldn’t dare. You kill only when ordered and I highly doubt I was ever on your list” With that, you managed to take home a doubtless checkmate. The man tried ignoring the way you called him for the second time that day. Slowly but surely, you took a hold of Juyeon’s big hand that held the weapon and moved it away to a much safer distance. The other let you, without any protest or fight back.

“Plus... I don’t think I’m working against you; I don’t touch anyone else but the bad guys, remember?”

At such close proximity, it was possible to predict what were the thoughts of both. Unexpectedly though, beside a moment-driven need to press your lips together, there was a hidden feeling of understanding and content. Both remained in the exact position for a little while, breathing the same air and enjoying this unique situation.

Without any special reason, you lifted up and touched Juyeon's nose with a soft finger. The act changed the atmosphere quick and caused both to giggle, pleasantly surprised to experience it recklessly Mindfully, you then hoisted yourself up and off the boy, helping him get on his feet as well.

An imperceptible crack formed inside of your soul, something that was just a beginning of a storm.

The next two weeks passed by without any encounters. You took time off to regain energy before moving onto the next scheduled and fixed mission, while Juyeon busied himself with the usual, easy executions. He’d run around the city, hang about in underground passages throughout the day and sneak through alleyways during the night. His victims weren’t big bites at all, for he had gotten used to simple cases of unprotected individuals.

Juyeon has always been covered by the government, which was to be expected since he did work for them. Every single life the assassin had taken, was never recorded in his dossier, for it remained as clean as ever. The cases he and a few other colleagues worked on were never investigated properly, always thrown under the mat or closed by the court after a few days. It often happened that innocent people were forced to take blame, just so the families of victims felt ‘content’ and ‘justice’ - despite it being far away from that.

The boy had a proper reason for why he chose the path of paid assassination. It's not rare to hear that people who’re born in a violent environment grow up to be violent as well – and unfortunately that was exactly what happened to the blue haired assassin.

Juyeon was only seven when he had lost a dear parent. On an unfortunate night, his father had come home shitface drunk and proceeded to beat up his mother. It was sad to say, but the boy, as well as his younger brother, were used to violence, as it occurred almost daily. Their mother would always usher the two youngsters into their rooms, before she strongly took all of the anger of the older so her kids wouldn’t have to. The man had rarely ever come home sober, and the number of times they listened to the pitiful gasps and cries downstairs was way too great to count.

Still, one night, Juyeon noticed his mother laying on the ground in a pool of red liquid and her mouth parted with eyes fixed on an invisible dot. The father, enraged and unable to process the situation properly, lunged towards him. With extreme amount of luck, Juyeon managed to shield his younger brother for a second, immediately grabbing him by the hand and running out into the open.

Even so young, Juyeon was aware of everything. Raindrops fell in an even, calm rhythm on the pavement while the sky flashed every now and then. He ran almost barefoot, the socks on his feet soaked by the wet pavement. All the time, he held tight onto the younger’s hand, encouraging him to continue running despite everything else. The teddybear his brother carried was dragged along the ground, plastic nose creating a strange noise over asphalt ground.

It took a long time until they were able to find someone on the streets in such weather. One young and reliable looking woman stood under a shop shade, seemingly waiting for the pour to stop. Mindfully though, she ran out of cover to help the same moment they came into view. The woman was shocked and distressed, listening to the heartbreaking story of two young souls who spoke through never-ending tears, their voices breaking with every sob.

Juyeon and his brother were taken into custody quick, and their father was arrested in a matter of one day. Sadly, the siblings were soon separated, both going into different families due to unknown circumstances. They never saw each other again.

Juyeon grew up into a teenager with a never dying urge to get revenge on his father. The picture of his mother lying dead on the ground replayed behind his eyelids every time they closed, it only fueling the hidden fury. He couldn’t fall asleep easily and when it somehow happened, he wouldn’t sleep for long as the image would haunt his young mind even then. Juyeon was unwillingly updated on the state of his father, who he visited not even once.

Either way, Juyeon silently plotted how to get back on the remaining parent, not letting anyone know anything about those plans – which fell apart in the end. The elder died in prison two years later – cause unknown. Juyeon hadn’t bothered to go to the funeral.

The teen ended up without a revenge, nor the justice he thought his mother deserved. Juyeon turned towards bad habits and streets fights, often falling victim to toxic relationships. Everything he did was to ease off the horrible feeling of guilt and anger he simultaneously felt. Secretly, everyone feared him, his sharp words and skills, despite the boy never doing any intentional harm to others without a proper reason. The fights Juyeon got into were only when he felt immoraly wronged, or when someone really pissed him off.

Eventually, the boy was introduced to the job he’d later become a professional at. Young Juyeon thoroughly thought this tough decision over many times, especially when standing before the big, bossy man who immediately offered him a contract. The older said that people like him tend to be perfect for the job, particularly when driven by a certain emotion – something that would drive them on. At first, Juyeon wasn’t sure where he would end up with a “degree” in assassination, therefore hesitance was a reasonable reaction.

Sly as a fox though, the boss used unfortunate history against the rookie. Juyeon was told that if he did well enough, there’s a chance he’d be accepted into the government guard – and it fought for justice and peace.

It was surprising how kids of different backgrounds happen to receive the same treatment and training, only to end up on different places again. One could think that since everyone experienced identical programs, they were meant to work together – when it was the exact opposite. The minor differences in performance and work ethics that could easily be overlooked, were the ones that labeled you a certain position. And unfortunately, it often depended on just what kind of person they turned you into.

Juyeon thought about his time there often. Short pieces of memory flying by and disappearing in an instant. The six years he spent watching different clips of torture and learning how to flawlessly execute a silent murder. All the days his mobility was challenged – running the same course, climbing different heights and crawling through miniature gaps while carrying different weapons.

He thought about all the different people there, all of the kids that he watched get beat up and heard scream – many of those giving up after only days of training.

But she never did.

The little girl that always observed his practices and paid attention to his every move, as if she was trying to remember them as well. He remembered the younger taking everything thrown at her like a complete champion, determination and will for success written over her face in bold letters. Juyeon always wondered just what it was that made her so persistent.

Shivers ran down his spine as the face of the little girl in his head took on familiar lines. They formed a mature and stoic, yet beautiful as ever face. Juyeon sighed loudly, still not processing the fact that faith made it be so their paths crossed again.

How exactly the two of you managed to find each other so fast in a club full of people, was unexplainable. It could’ve been a sixth sense that you’ve developed, for the two pairs of eyes immediately locked the moment you walked in. Thanks to previous experiences and an uninteresting game of guessing, you’ve come to the realization that once again, the playing field was same for both.

Slowly creeping up to the man, you threw your hands around his neck, attempting to dance to whatever song the DJ was remixing. It was an easy way to get blended into the crowd and communicate with the other without raising suspicion. Flashing colorful lights along with the excessive amount of fake mist and sweaty people once again reminded of the reason why you didn’t like clubs. But alas, work had to be done.

Juyeon had caught onto your plan, but the smirk and hooded eyes clearly showed that he was quite amused with your boldness. Carefully, his big hands creeped up to your hips, bringing close to his and swaying them to the beat of the song. With a gasp of surprise, you giggled, turning around in Juyeon’s hold, back pressed flush against his strong chest. The male’s head moved closer, lips lingering just above your ear. Out of pure curiosity, with a swift move, your ass ground against Juyeon’s crotch, eliciting the sweetest gasp in return. Before any remark could be made, you glanced back, speaking in such a volume that no one else heard.

“Who is it tonight?”

“One of the sisters, Yuri” Juyeon replied, voice low and rough, soft lips finally touching your ear. The grip on your hips tightened, as a precaution to not dare pull the same trick twice. Although the colorful tints of flashing lights turned the whole room into hectic mess, Juyeon was thankful for it hid the flush that unknowingly overtook his features.

“Oh, how exciting!” You replied in a sarcastic tone. “I’m here because of Aria!” The answer received a hum of understanding in return.

The two sisters, Aria and Yuri, while not the most influential on the streets, had managed to get themselves involved in quite a few problems with the big ones, for a short period of time. To know that the fall of both happened due to one’s mistakes was slightly disappointing. It was one of those rare cases you were disclosed all details, and simply put, it had your eyes rolling back. Everything could’ve been easily sorted out.

Despite being twins, they were complete opposites. Aria was always the calm, calculated and careful sibling, while Yuri ran around, causing problems, concerning herself with illegal jobs and getting away with it thanks to her connections. Those associates often asked for something in return, and more often than not, it was someone with some type of political power. You guessed that’s why Juyeon was here tonight. Can’t say it wasn’t to be expected.

Aria, although the more mature twin, got dragged into everything thanks to Yuri. Surprisingly enough, she managed to find a place in the community fast. At first, Aria often did the dirty and hard work of finding new druggie customers for her bosses. Eventually, she progressed and ranked up significantly (no one really knows how she did it so fast), finally allowed to deal crack and heroine by herself – while of course having to pay a percentage back to the leader. The semi-autonomy was there in theory.

It all went smooth and well until Yuri found out. To her irrational brain, it only meant free shots of fun every time she needed it. Therefore, like a fool, Yuri started using the drugs her sister had to sell, without giving a coin back. Whatever the reason was, Aria let her.

Debt happened fast, as Aria couldn’t pay back enough money, nor make up a good enough excuse as to where the drugs went. The siblings tried prolonging their (Aria’s) payment date and buying just a tad bit more time to get everything sorted out. Empty promises were spoken through disposable phones as Aria pledged the money will be ready soon.

And as if they were suddenly blind and deaf to the fact of being in debt, the sisters decided to open a nightclub. Apparently, the earnings (they hoped would happen fast) would be used to pay back thousands of dollars they owed.

Unfortunately, being too hopeful was never a good thing. And that’s why you were there on the exact day of the grand opening.

“Well then, can I ask you to be my partner in crime, Miss?” Juyeon whispered, nudging your temple with his nose. Although in the mood to play with the other for a little while longer, you had to get to work first. Once again turning in his hold, you nodded and began bopping along to the new beat that vibrated off the walls. With foreheads pressed together, you tried ignoring Juyeon’ sharp gaze and focusing on discussing a plan of action.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•°

It was unusually easy to get inside of the security room, turn the cameras off and delete all footage of the current night. With a bit of secretive work, two assassins found a blueprint of the whole floor, familiarizing themselves with all important points of the nightclub – first and foremost the security room. Immediately, both got to work.

Thanks to your moderately revealing outfit and Oscar-worthy acting (no sarcasm intended), you worked as a distraction in the first part of the plan. Accidentally walking into a male bathroom, you managed to gain attention of drunk and drugged men. As expected, they followed out like hungry dogs.

In the meantime, Juyeon slipped in and out of the bathroom through an open window. The drain pipes, weird infrastructure and façade of the whole building, allowed him to make his way around and towards the security room. The window was barely open, but with a bit of force, it was lifted up higher and Juyeon jumped in without much sound.

With quick work of skilled fingers, the footage was deleted and all cameras were disabled for the night. Following the same path, the male left, making sure to lower the window into its previous position before returning to the bathroom. Luckily, your charm and flirty words worked well enough to keep other men outside the room until Juyeon came back.

He felt wronged seeing everyone looking you up and down as if you were some type of provocative art piece, hoping to get a feeling with their nasty fingers. Immediately, Juyeon approached the little group and wrapped a protective arm around your shoulder, leading you away. Sounds of disapproval were heard from the rest, but neither paid no mind, already focused on the next piece of the plan.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•°

Keeping up the cover often required creative and interesting measures. You’ve been there, done that many times, yet never once have you made out with someone in public because of it.

At one point of the night, while progressing towards the next point, you’ve noticed a couple of guards paying a little bit more attention than usual. The amount of security surrounding one piece of the corridor was enough information to understand that the sisters (or at least one of them) were in one of those rooms. Trying to play drunk and drugged was so far the best shot at being left alone, but it seemingly didn’t work this time, as one bulky man walked towards you. The sound of his voice was almost silenced by the deafening music playing in the background.

“I’m sorry this is a-”

Suddenly, Juyeon pushed you against a wall. Big hands cupped your face, holding it so delicately, carefully, as if you were a rose made out of glass. Yet, his lips moved against yours with a hungry and lustful feeling, only breaking apart to catch a breath before continuing where interrupted. One of his hands trailed lower, hitching one of your thighs over his hips, earning a rather surprised and breathless gasp in return. Unfortunately, the guard wasn’t willing to cooperate.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave this area” He yelled, voice unexpectedly high for a man his built. Juyeon chose to ignore the other, kisses now trailing underneath your jaw and over the tender skin of your neck, nipping but not strong enough to leave any marks.

Growing impatient and with an obvious pressure from his colleagues that bore holes into his back, the guard grabbed and Juyeon’s bicep, effectively breaking the two apart. It took all of Juyeon’s mind strength not to turn around and break the man’s arm – that much was obvious from the sudden fire in his eyes.

“Leave” The bigger said, pointing back towards the direction you’ve came from. With glassy and hooded eyes, you watched the intimidating man, giving him a wide, forced smile. Pointing between the two guys, you started laughing, occasionally looking away and trying to suppress more giggles from spilling out. Juyeon caught onto the tactic and followed it, his shoulders rising and falling in a fast rhythm.

“I’m sorry~ we’ll goooo” Not wanting to create any unnecessary drama, you grasped Juyeon’s hand, leading the way while fake stumbling and force laughing the whole time. The male tried supporting you, and for a more authentic look, his own steps shortened and uneven.

“Drunk kids... I can’t bel..” Was all you’ve heard from the guard, before his voice blended in and disappeared in great noise that was an EDM beat.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•°

Around one in the morning, when the night was reaching its peak, the two targets came out of their room. Despite other distractions, Juyeon and you spectated from a safe distance, dancing against each other for the nth time that night. As per usual, Yuri appeared high and out of her mind, while Aria dragged her towards a small terrace that overlooked the dance floor. There was a guard that followed behind.

“I guess it’s true that they’re giving a speech tonight... how eventful” With a sarcastic tone, Juyeon whispered in your ear. You looked up towards the terrace and hummed along to signal his words have been heard.

“There’s only one guard following, there must be more up there” He continued, head dipping low and lips caressing the exposed skin of your neck. Following the beat of the song, Juyeon moved one of his legs between yours, interested to see the reaction he’d get. His bold touches and moves intensified the unusual tension and sudden heat you already felt. The mission had to be done fast, since you weren’t sure how much more of this new, pleasurable torture you could take. Both were being pretty unprofessional, evidently forgetting about their main focus at times.This wasn’t at all like either of them.

“Taking them out up there is too risky anyway” You began, leaning your head back into the juncture of Juyeon’s shoulder, before speaking again, this time with a more teasing tone “Can’t guarantee that my idea is safe either, though. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Oh woah, don’t get too cocky on me now, baby” Blue replied, smirking when your head shot up to look him in the eyes. It faded fast, an eyebrow raising in a questionable manner, as if his words weren’t special and deserving of such a reaction. “Tell me. I get to hear the offer first before taking it, right?”

“You’re acting way too unprofessional. We’re here with a reason” You whined, suddenly wanting to distance away from the other, but a tight hold on your hips didn’t allow that.

“Me? Unprofessional? Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t the one grinding down on my thigh” Juyeon bit back with a generous amount of confidence, the one that people carried themselves with when they were aware of being right. The colorful lights hid the immediate flush that overtook your features. A quick look to the right proved the man that his words definitely had an effect.

“So? Are you going to tell me or let a chance slip away?”

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•°

Aria and Yuri laid dead inside a big closet, their necks snapped and heads hanging in an unnatural way. Juyeon and you once again happened to be the most compatible teammates, getting the job done and leaving the club before anyone suspected a thing.

The time between leaving and present passed by in a blur and way too fast. Or maybe it didn’t, maybe it was just the power of Juyeon’s soft touches and hungry kisses that made you forget all about it.

Currently pressed against a cold brick wall a few streets away from the nightclub, you enjoyed the attention the man was offering. It all felt unusual and new, but not in a bad way. The wall temperature greatly contrasted the one of the body pressed against you, creating an unusual but pleasant combination. Juyeon’s lips rarely stayed on yours, often wandering down to your jaw and juncture of shoulder. This time though, he didn’t care about the marks, pink bruises now decorating the expanse of your neck. With hands in his dark blue strands, you pulled Juyeon closer, moving in just the right ways to allow more access to the soft and undamaged skin.

It wasn’t clear why both assassins gave in to the sudden want for each other. There were no evident emotions to back up their actions, just a strong need that had to be fulfilled with no one else but the other. Some could suppose it was the consequence of their blunt actions from before, while others may argue that it was something much more meaningful. A relatively new, exciting state of mind and experience that obviously didn’t have to happen, yet it did. A slipup so to say - or at least both hoped that it was.

“How can you be this hot after just murdering someone?” The man asked breathlessly, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips that formed a slight smile. His sharp eyes looked at yours with a new kind of emotion, something you weren’t able to pinpoint just yet. Juyeon’s deep but quick breaths matched yours, both trying to take in as much air as possible in a short period of time.

“What can I say, I’m a natural at keeping people around my finger” You raised a pinky up, playing along, voice low and seductive. Truly, there were missions that required acting flirty and playing dirty, therefore your charm has developed quite a lot. Still, what you tried implicating at was the situation from earlier that night, when all those men gathered around you. There was no reason to expect a reaction from the other. Juyeon’s expression quickly changed into something that resembled a frown, but it disappeared just as fast, not allowing any time to make any remarks about it.

Suddenly, the thigh that was once again positioned between your legs flexed, making you flinch and unwillingly whine. The man smirked, closing in the distance again, but not enough for yet another kiss.

“Should I be scared to become one of those people, then?” He whispered, irises playing between your eyes and lips that were just a breath away. The intimate proximity that went on for way too long happened to have a negative effect on you. Gradually, a pinch of doubt and hesitance began clouding your mind, scolding it for being too carefree next to the other. They reminded of just who the man was, and that the game currently played was a dangerous one. Without much thought, like a reflex, your hand moved quick, retrieving a pocket knife and pointing the tip at Juyeon’s barely covered stomach.

A gasp of sincere shock left the man’s lips, eyes opening wide, as he scanned your face. With an indifferent voice, but a slightly different mind, you spoke.

“I don’t know, should you?”

It was impressive to see how much effect people had on each other. Despite being busy with constant planning and thinking, there was always space in both heads to think about each other. Occasional pondering about his lips on hers, or her hands in his hair – all intensifying the anticipation for the next time.

Juyeon often found himself rushing missions because he knew the female wasn’t busy at the moment. Whenever passing by the familiar building and a certain room had even the slightest bit of light in it, the boy would invite himself over. It appeared that Juyeon risked much more than the other, and definitely much more than he should’ve.

Just out of pure skepticism that underlined every action, you never directly planned any of the meetings, rather letting the other barge in or set time and date. It was easy to catch onto his habits and when to expect a knock at your entrance door. For added security, weapons were kept in secretive places for quick use if the man ever decided to turn on you. And although fighting a never-ending battle inside of your mind, you grew to anticipate the hidden meetings. His kisses were spreading fire throughout your body, words messing with your mind and touches offering pure euphoria.

There were occasions when the two of you would meet at the rooftop, one always back from a mission while the other waited patiently. Sometimes, Juyeon’s hands still dripped fresh blood, the male not willing to waste any time on cleaning them before rushing towards you. It was a special feeling knowing that the fingers that used to do such horrifying things caressed your skin so delicately.

Slowly but surely, some type of understanding was established between the two. Then, the whole relationship wasn’t purely based on physical connection, and it meant much more than a way to satisfy hormonal human needs. Periodic talks about present worries and bothers, as well as thoughts on current events, allowed them to get to know each other better. Alas, the connection never reached its highest level, as numerous obstacles stopped them from reaching it – biggest being the female's constant hesitation.

Objectively speaking, Juyeon let himself open much more than the other did, always easy on bringing up topics to discuss about and contemplate on. He also shared much more information about himself, many of them being trivial and harmless things, but still something you stoically held back on. Of course, that didn’t mean you were silent during two-way conversations, just pickier about what you wanted to share.

Juyeon understood that, and he appreciated everything you’ve told him. That compassion was the foundation that will slowly build a more trusting and open relationship in the future. You valued his way of acting, enjoying harmless discussions and gradually getting used to having a companion who became a part of your almost daily life.

With a little bit of effort from both sides, everything was going to work, or at least you hoped. You encouraged every passing meeting, every second together, to hit the wall of reluctance with as much force as possible – still, unfortunately, it stood strong.

Blue and Red created purple during their nights together, merging with the beautiful melody of the storm that only grew bigger the closer it got.

Thanks to the impeccable weather, it was slightly challenging to get to the roof this time. However, with master level acting, fake politeness and a little bit of luck, you were able to avoid suspicion from the residents you passed by. Most definitely, and fortunately, not a single soul knew that there was a sniper rifle packed in a rather sizeable guitar bag you carried. Along with its components such as silencer, optical sight, bipod, additional ammunition...

Once on top of the building, you immediately unpacked the bag’s contents. First of was an expensive, albeit small door jammer that was installed straight away, effectively sealing the entrance you just walked through. Trying it a couple of times just to make sure, you deemed it impossible to open. Next was the sniper.

Having done such a thing countless times before, it didn’t take you long to properly set and load the weapon with a set of new bullets. The fresh smell of metal filled the small space around. Hiding behind a pile of rubbish, you set the bipod behind the cornice, muzzle and barrel pointing towards the road your target was supposed to appear on soon.

Then, like a lightning, you immediately withdrew back, sniper pulled way behind and body pressing flush against the ground. There was a sudden feeling of being noticed and even watched, to which you were always quick to react. Keeping low for as long as time allowed, you dismounted the bipod as it only made advancing more difficult. Slowly but surely, you moved around, setting everything up on another corner with tall plants and flowers. The aim wasn’t as clear as before, but it wasn’t too big of a problem. Yet, despite the natural cover doing its job relatively well, the dangerous feeling was still present.

Taking a quick risk, you took off the current optical sight and mounted another, angled one, that allowed you to look around without being too exposed. Since you were on the 11th floor, on the tallest building in the area, there was no way someone could’ve noticed you from the roads down below. Glancing over them quickly just to make sure, the theory was deemed correct – no pedestrians had their heads raised up and looking in this exact direction.

Looking at the sky, you searched for drones or any other objects that could be supervising the area (as that unfortunately, did happen before and they had to be destroyed manually, via a gun). Thankfully, there were none, but instead of making you feel relieved, it only intensified the anxiety previously felt. Where was it coming from?

All you needed to get the desired answer, was an accidental glance over the roof of the building right across from yours. There, behind a pile of wooden planks, metal bars and all other unnecessary trash, you noticed a barely noticeable, but suspicious movement. Locking eyes on the exact spot and rolling the plastic on the sight, you zoomed in, getting a clearer image.

Shockingly enough, there was a barrel peeking right between the two wooden planks, and it was pointed right at you.

And then it quietly fired.

The bullet would’ve missed anyway, but thankfully, you moved down just in time, watching it penetrate the wall behind. Your heart leaped, pumping blood faster and kicking against your chest, almost as if it tried jumping out. Strange type of fear enveloped your body. It wasn’t fright for own life, rather unpleasant surprise that fueled thoughts of being outplayed. At this stage, you knew very little. Was it only one person? Were there more people? Were you cornered?

For whatever reason, the person on the other building continued firing, twice to be exact – yet both bullets hit the exact same spot as the first one. It didn’t make sense at all, but at least ir allowed keeping track of the opponent.

In a quick act, you moved, peeking just enough to expect to be fired at, but it never happened. Moving once again and receiving nothing in return, you positioned the sniper and looked through the sight for the nth time, trying to confirm if they were still on the same location. And that’s when you noticed.

A blue haired man peeking out, head cocked to the side, his sharp eyes and smirk offering a teasing, harmless expression.

Rage, disappointment and distrust overtook your body fast, blood boiling on a temperature higher than before. All emotions served as a strong reality check, a shot through the heart and mind, reminding of just who you were. They helped strengthen the invisible wall you were so desperately trying to weaken, ruining almost all of the progress made. Still, their consequences that will definitely leave a mark were your own fault and no one else’s.

A drastic switch happened. While following Juyeon’s movements through the sight, you unconsciously aligned his head with the red dot in the middle. That person was suddenly someone who made you feel threatened, anxious, alarmed, and not the one who was supposed to help achieve change. You expected so much from him, yet all you currently felt was pure let down and anger. The inner battle was as hectic and loud as ever. A finger creeped up to the trigger, trembling as it came in contact with cold metal.

Before the pull happened, your phone vibrated almost unnoticeably. It apparently did the right, desired trick, as it effectively broke the dangerous, fury-driven daze. With an audible sigh, you remembered who the actual target of the day was, aim moving downwards in a quick motion. Just as predicted and on time, a big black jeep turned the corner, driving into the street underneath you. Getting into a more comfortable position, you trailed the movement of the black vehicle.

First and only to come out of the car was the exact target. His appearance was immediately followed by two quick, (thanks to the silencers, somewhat) muffled gunshots, the bullets hitting just right. With two holes in his big shiny head, the man was sent falling down, momentarily holding onto the open door before faceplanting the cold concrete. Blood seeped out, painting the previously grey ground in a dark red, almost black color.

But the thing was, you only shot once.

Albeit caught off guard with the shocking realization, there was way too little time to get lost, every second more precious than the last one. Hurriedly, you deconstructed the sniper, pushing everything inside the guitar bag in a careless manner. When done, you moved towards the door and took the jammer off in record time before storing it inside the carriage as well.

A quick glance was thrown in Juyeon’s direction, but unfortunately there was no sight of said man. For whatever reason, you were somewhat glad.

In a slow and relaxed manner, with calculated steps, you took the stairs again, making sure to appear just as natural and neutral as before. Thankfully, almost no one occupied the hallways. On the 5th floor, there were two elderly women happily boasting about their children, beside who you passed with a polite bow. You even smiled at them, but the expression was deemed unseen thanks to the black mask that covered your face.

Luckily, another semi-smooth mission was done with. You were out of the building and away from the scene in a couple of minutes, with no doubts about being seen or suspected. The only bothersome thing was the sudden change of feelings towards the blue haired man. A dangerous and slightly embarrassing switch could’ve had a very tragic outcome.

And of course, it wasn't worth missing out on the fact that for the first time, both had the same target.

You agreed on further meetings, although they were much different than those in the past. A drastic change in atmosphere was present from the first second, yet neither really wanted to comment on it. Despite being close physically, Juyeon didn’t feel warmth coming from you anymore, or at least not in the same amount as before. The male felt your body shiver under a cold gust of wind, but your skin didn’t feel any colder underneath his fingertips. When he tried offering you a jacket to cover up, you denied with a half-hearted smile.

It was unreasonably late, around three in the morning, which meant the city was at its calmest. There were less people on the streets than fingers on both hands and almost no apartments had their lights on. The moon was the most trustful source of light, its soft hues illuminating everything and making it more beautiful.

Nowadays, fewer words were exchanged as well. Silence was common, both bodies quietly cherishing what was left of a cracked relationship rather than trying to fix (or ruin?) it with meaningless talk. Leaned against the male’s shoulder, you tried forcefully letting go of tension to feel a piece of that carelessness that once existed between you. Truthfully, there was a willpower to continue fighting and experiencing the strange kind of joy, but there were so, so many obstacles. And most of them were created by you.

Neither had the explanation as to why this was still an ongoing thing, why neither gave up despite the little flame burning its last few seconds. No matter how long you searched for the answer, it just didn’t appear. A deep sigh resonated in a small bubble of space.

The biggest and constant bother was that invisible wall, still standing proud. Apparently, it grew taller and stronger every time you remembered the unfortunate event from two weeks ago. As time passed by, you became more skeptical, giving time and attention to thoughts you weren’t fond of. They whispered and laughed at a poor being for daring to experience something it wasn’t supposed to in the first place.

You didn’t even look Juyeon in the eyes anymore, always finding a nearby rock or wall crack a more attractive sight. Why? The fear of looking up and seeing no emotion in the man’s eyes was a fearful thought, mighty enough to forbid you from even trying. And why was it affecting you so much, why were you still holding onto it? You didn’t know.

Hell, your fucked-up mind was daring you to kill the man and he didn’t even know about it.

Juyeon, much like always, put more evident effort into the whole thing. It looked as if the male was aware of the trigger for this sudden stumble (not fall!), and was ready to give it his all to fix everything. Immense guilt was evident on his face, and if you looked up just once, you’d be able to read it off his beautiful features.

Despite your mental distancing and defiance, he never gave up transparently trying. You being there with him every night was all the hope Juyeon needed to continue. Even if you weren’t as willing to see him the next day, Juyeon would knock on your door. Even if you weren’t in the mood to talk, he’d ask a question about one of your favorite topics. The assassin wasn’t religious (and truthfully, how could he be?), but every night he’d pray for this tough period to end already. If for nothing else, then to have your eyes lock with his one last time.

Overall, these last few nights were a weird type of battlefield. Juyeon’s hand moved up to your shoulder, occasionally rubbing down your arm, hoping to feel just a bit of warmth there. You’d allow it, sighing and leaning into his hold, trying to, for the nth time, force a bit of feeling back.

Either way, the two waited for a beautiful sunrise before disappearing in two different directions.

You should’ve believed the tension that thickened with each word the other said. You should’ve refused and backed out from this exact job when not even one person in the room appeared familiar. But it didn’t happen.

For the first time in an incredibly long time, the employers weren’t a part of a mafia or drug dealing gang. That much was disclosed, with a rude comment that it wasn’t your job to know anything more about them, anyway. It had your blood boiling and eyes squinting suspiciously, irises locking down every of the five men present.

Their detailing about the job that had to be done was just as, if not more, brief. Not believing that someone expected you to work properly with just three sentences of information, you asked a couple of times to have them repeated. Every time, the leader of the group sighed louder, eyes rolling back in an over-exaggerated manner, before turning around and giving a knowing look to the man beside. Were they joking around with you?

When asked about the basis behind this assassination, in hope of getting at least a little bit of early lead on who you’re dealing with, the man offered nothing useful in return. Instead of giving a proper reason, or at least putting effort into making a believable story up, he threw something senseless right at your face. Upon asking how you’re supposed to work without knowing how the target looks like, they replied with:

“They’ll be the only ones there, guaranteed. It's just a little game of hide and seek... with a twist. Isn’t that exciting?”

You were spared the detail that the target was just as (if not more,) experienced than you at these “murder plays”, and they demanded huge amounts of caution. Three main points were specified, the address, time and the fact that this was an extremely dangerous mission. The legitimacy of that information remained unknown, as they once again failed to give a coherent explanation. Despite the last point serving as a warning, you suddenly weren’t given a chance to back out.

“Excuse me?” You said, disbelief all but dripping from those two simple words. “You’re sending me against another assassin, did I connect the dots correctly?”

“You’re a smart one”

“I don’t want to work on this case” You denied, getting ready to leave, when the other cleared his throat.

“We want this person taken out at any cost, and we particularly chose you for it. In the end, we did hear quite a lot of positive reviews... therefore you seem to be the right person, no?” The man tried flattering you, but his voice was laced with venom, lips moving slowly to form an unnatural, wicked grin. He wasn’t looking at you with fake friendliness anymore, rather an emotion that could soon turn dangerous.

“That doesn’t matter to me, I have the right to not accept the job. My signature is not yet written on the papers” A small pile of documents resting on the table was pointed at, endless rows of black text only missing a simple name written in ballpoint pen. The other chuckled lightly, gaze turning threatening in a blink time as he lifted a blue pen and spun it around his thick fingers.

“That’s easily dealt with” The weight of his words hit immediately, a shocking situation that you’re dealing with for the first time. There was no training for this and lack of experience was making you a nervous mess.

Shuffling body mass from one leg to the other, your eyes remained on the ground, hands anxiously intertwining. There was nothing that came to mind that would help the current position, and you wondered what all of this was about. No one has ever forced you into working for them, much less threatened to sign the contract in your name.

The man chuckled once again, saying nothing but thinking a lot. This was it, they had you.

“Don’t you want this?” Another male spoke, his frame moving from the doorway and opening a black suitcase on the table. The carriage itself probably cost a fortune, as it was made of expensive leather, and the mouth-watering amount of money inside was as alluring as ever. It would probably be the best paid work ever. Still, you managed to look up from the bills and into the leader’s eyes with strong confidence.

“Does it even matter? You’re forcing me to do it anyway” The words barely made it past your tongue, their weight way too heavy. The freedom you had while working was something greatly cherished (for a lack of better words), and it was suddenly taken away. It almost felt as if nothing was in your power anymore. Fearful shivers ran down your spine.

“Well then, glad we got that behind ourselves. Sign here”

The whole process of sealing the deal was done in a matter of seconds. Your signature was scribbled in the ugliest way possible, and the pen was thrown to the other side of the room as a form of protest. The weak plastic broke due to the force of impact, the ink painting a patch of white wall blue. Turning around to leave, you stomped with heavy steps, glaring at each and every male in the room for the last time. Then, one step away from the doorway, you heard it.

Your name. Your real name.

The one no one ever used.

“Good luck, you’ll need it”

The door closed behind in a loud thud, not allowing you enough time to properly react. Just once your face hit the fresh air, did the heaviness of the decision fall upon your body. What have you done? Who were those people and why did they refuse to introduce themselves?

Doubts filled your head – were your employers suddenly against you? Were they suddenly hyperaware of your knowledge, or scared that you’ll turn to the other side, become their enemy? Was this actually a ploy made to get you out of the game? The thought made you gulp audibly; wondering if but knowing that it was too late to turn around and tear the contract paper into thousands of pieces.

There’s also no way ditching the mission came into discussion. With the way they acted, god only knew if each and every step of yours was watched on. Holy shit.

The walk home was a long one, not particularly because time passed by slow, but because you purposely chose the longer path. Eyes filling with tears, your reaction was one of pity. Reaching up to brush the watery substance away from the corner of your eyes, you looked at the shiny finger. This was the first time in a long while that something managed to bribe out the emotion of grief. And for the first time ever, it was for no one else but yourself.

Tiny rocks sounded under your shoes just quietly enough to not ruin the perfect sneak up. The sky was grey, thin but overlapping clouds blocking sun from coming your way. Luckily, it meant you could move with more freedom, not having to worry about unnecessary shadows and their power to ruin cover.

The first abandoned building you were heading towards was huge, with main walls almost completely ruined. Chunks of concrete, bricks and other unnecessary trash created stable cover that you’d usually be thankful for, yet now dreaded.

This was the exact address you were given, but the trick was that it happened to be a whole wide field with two abandoned buildings. On top of that, the opponent’s identity was still unknown, therefore you had no knowledge of who to look for and where. For all you knew, they could already be in position and aiming right at your head. “It’s just a little game of hide and seek, with a twist”. Instinctively, you ducked behind the nearest tree, feeling the heart strengthen its beats. Carefully and in calculated pace, the advance towards the entrance was continued.

There was a huge hole in the ceiling of every floor. It reached all the way up to the destroyed rooftop, almost as if something heavy fell from above and demolished the concrete surface. With back pressed flush against a piece of wall that still stood strong, you took a deep breath and reached down for a favorite of weapons, your trusted knife.

Suddenly, there was a strange type of noise coming from an unknown direction, resonating throughout the whole building. In the midst of a less careful and more panicked moment, while trying to retrieve the blade, it sliced through the delicate flesh of your calf. A quietly yelp of pain escaped your lips, hand immediately stretching to press on the wound. The feeling of blood running down your leg was accompanied by burning pain, and you tried ignoring it while climbing up the stairs.

Thanks to the special soft soles of the boots, your steps weren’t heard over the hard ground. They also didn’t put much force on your calf, therefore the advance to the 1st and 2nd floor went by almost without a problem. Occasionally, due to a bad step, the wound would reopen, another flow of blood quick to rush out along with a thousand silent curses.

The doorways on both floors were as demolished as the rest of the building, preventing anyone from walking through and forcing you to move up to the 3rd. Dodging and crouching down at places where you’d be exposed to the outside, you all but crawled up.

The third floor seemed different; way less disintegrated than the rest. Once there, you looked around and through the now available doorway. The corridor was very long, filled with wooden planks that once resembled doors leading to empty rooms. On the other side, about fifty meters away, there was another stairway, much like the one you took just now.

Alas, despite the burn in your calf, there was suddenly that alarming feeling of being watched.

Immediately ducking behind cover, you gripped the knife tight and took a few deep but quick breaths, planning the next move. Someone was definitely in there, and the rapid heartbeat was making sure you were constantly aware of it.

The feeling gradually subdued the more time passed by. You looked around attentively, once again taking notice of the still gaping hole on the ceiling. There was no one watching you through it though, so the trigger must’ve been from either outside or down the hallway. Remembering the noise from earlier, you completely crossed out the possibility of them being outside.

Which of course, wasn’t in your favor at all.

Peeking out just so the top of the head showed, you tried bribing out shots or any kind of attack from the other – something that would indicate where they were located. Receiving nothing in return was slightly confusing, but it also offered a pinch of hope. Maybe they moved, which meant you had a chance to sneak up behind them, or maybe they’re just hiding, which meant it could all go down very fast.

With a hurt leg that was slowly growing numb, there wasn’t a lot of time you had left before retreat was necessary. And never once did that happen. Therefore, trying to protect pride and get this done just to never see those nasty men again, you tried winging it. Pressing the wound one last time, you whispered a prayer before taking off through the open doorway.

There was just enough cover to move around in semi-safety, back turned towards one of the walls. Your eyes perceptively scanned every corner, every pile of rocks which could offer any type of protection. Occasionally, ignoring the pain, you’d jump inside one of the rooms to your right, hoping to catch the other off guard. The knife in your hands was gripped tight, leather handle shining slightly due to a thin layer of sweat coating it.

Tension was as high as ever, air becoming thick to an almost suffocating degree. For the first time, you felt undoubtedly scared. Your mind was clouded with a thousand racing thoughts, all of which only intensified the sensation of panic. The more time passed, the more your eyes aimlessly wandered around empty spaces, growing more tired and unable to notice possibly important details.

The amount of blood you lost was probably in the red zone, moving around becoming more challenging with every step. Still, doing the best possible job was always a requirement, therefore you used last spurts of strength to enter the 2nd to last room in the long hallway.

Once again met with a different terrain, you immediately noticed a demolished doorway, connecting the room to the one right beside. Upon quickly deeming the current room safe, you crouched down, sneaking towards the linking point. As if sensing danger, you patiently waited a couple of moments, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. If not for the protective leather handle, the blade would’ve sliced through your hand due to the impossibly strong grip.

Someone on the other side coughed. A curse followed right after.

Both moved rapidly, reaching out for the other through the doorway.

You were held at gunpoint, jaw feeling the pressure of a cold muzzle on it, while a strong hand grabbed your hair, pulling it back. Your own hands grabbed the other’s collar, tugging down while holding the thin, sharp blade against their most sensitive point, Adam’s apple.

Neither moved.

Blue watched Red with surprised eyes, irises playing inside the broad space of dark brown. Your gaze tried locking the man down, scanning those beautiful features while still avoiding his sharp eyes. Unexpectedly, a weak wave of emotion hit, bringing back a piece of what you wanted for a very long time. There was a slight urge to reach out and caringly caress his sharp cheeks, cup his jaw and kiss his lips.

But there was a gun pressed against your skin, and a knife against his.

And neither moved.

The war started. Horrid battles began and ripped your heart piece by piece. Everything was on the line and an indecisive mind was as dangerous as ever. The realization that this man, despite everything that happened, was the last person you wanted to harm, hurt the most. It was the quick moment of reminisce about the old times, when everything was just starting. He was the only one who gauged new, thrilling, pleasant emotions and made them feel like they’re exactly what you needed. And it was the truth.

But the weight of the weapon on your jaw reminded of the not-so-bright moments as well. A flashback of the day you were teasingly shot at sent shivers down your spine, feelings of pure anxiety and fear coming back in an instant. Rightfully so, they were strong and rivaled the positive ones, trying to outweigh them and take control over your next actions. The man was still someone who dared pull the trigger on you, dared taking that type of unpredictable risk.

If he dared pull it again, you dared slit his flawless, soft skin. But embarrassingly enough, you’d never have enough strength to be the first one, no matter how impulse-driven. Harming him definitely was your last wish. The thought of it even being a possibility made your eyes water, tears welling up and falling like never before, straining your soft cheeks.

Juyeon’s heart ached as well. Sadly, it opposed two separate and strong thunders. The first one hit hard, touching the intimate topic of his feelings towards you. It wasn’t a secret that you’ve changed him as well. In a word of gloom, blood and violence, you made everything disappear and instead of war, brought peace to his mind. Most of the time, it was enough for Juyeon to know that you were there, and every worry would fade away. The mutual understanding was then something he grew accustomed to and happy for. The male didn’t feel like he didn’t deserve attention anymore.

But what hit even harder was the fact that Juyeon was aware of your current thought process, and the guilt once again ate him away, bite by bite.

Carefully, the grip on your hair was released, gloved hand reaching up, thumb wiping a falling tear. Rough material nearly scraped your skin, a frown appearing on the other’s face almost immediately. Juyeon bit down on the glove, taking it off before placing his hand back on your warm cheek. The act made your eyes water even more, lips trembling and throat constricting to stop loud whimpers from escaping.

Still, the weapons didn’t move.

“Juyeon” You suddenly whined, finally finding strength to say his name. Lightheadedness was slowly overtaking your whole body, vision blurring fast. The pain in your leg although still present was long forgotten. Every letter carried huge weight, every taken breath felt like the last and you wondered if taking that bullet hurt any less. Unconsciously, your hand began shaking, resulting in the thin blade moving against the man’s delicate skin. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but Juyeon visibly and audibly gulped under the metal.

“They... they set us up to kill each other, Juyeon” The realization hurt like a sudden kick to the gut. It was supposed to happen sooner or later. All suspicions you weren’t willing to think about came out to be true and the terror spread through your body in a strong wave. Everything made sense – why those men weren’t willing to introduce themselves, why refusal wasn't an option and why no proper explanation was given to you. They were aware that if you knew even one of those things, you wouldn’t have dared to show up in the first place.

Or would you? Would they be able to push just the right buttons and play with your mind as they were right now?

You were set to break apart.

Do it. Don’t do it. Do. Don’t. Past and present were clashing together, habits and new found emotions. For the first time in a while, you felt somewhat disgusted with your job. Yet, the wheels were turning, reminding that you’ve been doing this for years and now was no time to give up under the pressure. It was so, so easy to end this all, much like hundred times before. Swallow down the hard feeling and contractions of your heart, cut through like you’re used to. Emotions were just an accident, an error in the system of a machine.

All this time though, Juyeon’s hand remained on your cheek, and only now was it only noticeable that he wasn’t holding you in place. The muzzle of the gun wasn’t as strong on your jaw as it was before. Juyeon wasn’t going to actively fight or harm you either, that much was clear. This had to end somehow, and the male was about to use his last possible chance.

“Look at me” The voice he said it with was soft, but underlined with a certain type of authority. For whatever reason, as if under a spell, your eyelids opened, irises immediately locking on his.

And then it all crashed down.

All the doubts and hesitation were immediately gone. Your hand moved, putting pressure on the weapon for just a quick moment before letting go completely. Heavy blade fell onto the ground with a loud and high-pitched noise, one that echoed throughout the whole building. The invisible wall was no more.

At the same time, Juyeon released the gun, hefty metal hitting concrete with just as loud of a thud. When the pressure disappeared and the current situation processed properly, your body went numb. Legs giving out, you almost collapsed on the ground. Luckily, Juyeon managed to catch you just in time. The male lowered the smaller body onto the ground, holding it carefully.

Your head hung low; eyes wandering all around the room, but not focusing on one spot. This was the first mission you’ve ever failed and the fear of possible consequences was scary.

Juyeon’s hands enveloped your face, just holding it firmly. Neither had an obvious cheerful expression, but there was a lack of certain something that made both seem more at ease. He caressed the soft skin, examining your face that was blank of any emotion. It was the moment of complete calm.

Upon focusing on the man, you noticed a clear red line just underneath his Adam’s apple. Instinctively, you reached out, running a smooth finger over it and listening to Juyeon’s strained hiss. A new wave of tears welled up in your eyes, yet the other was quick to wipe it away.

“Can you listen to me?” He questioned, with a gaze that suddenly turned more serious, albeit none the less caring. The breathing rhythm was slow and deep, almost as if he was trying to calm down in the fastest way possible. With a slight nod, you replied, hoping to keep enough consciousness to listen until the end.

“Let’s escape this hell” You would’ve definitely reacted greatly to the proposition, if it weren’t for the lack of energy in your body. Instead, the reply was a simple, perplexed look, a result of not quite processing what was talked about.

“Escape, disappear, perish, they’ll never know. They’ll never find us because... because they’ll think we’re dead. Isn’t that what they wanted? To wipe us off the list?” The tone Juyeon used was a hopeful one, as if the man already had everything planned and was ready to go right this second. And maybe, just maybe, that was the case.

“We’ll move countries and get new identities – I have a couple of friends that could and will help us with that. We’ll start a new life away from... away from all of this, because we can’t stay” Gradually, his words became more rushed, too many thoughts and too little time to wrap them up. “We can’t go back. They’ll kill us themselves, you know that, right?”

Juyeon was right. In the planned scenario, one of you was supposed to die today, while the other would’ve been finished off upon reporting the case. You’ve thought about it many times, making up scenarios and trying to find a way to get out of them. No one has ever trained you in that field or shown any ways of dealing with it, and there was an exact, fucked-up reason for it.

“Or we could just...” His eyes wandered off to the two weapons lying on the ground, tears welling up fast. There’s no way that was the only other option, yet...

For a moment, you glanced at the objects as well, not out of interest, but pure disgust. Just a mere thought of what could happen made your stomach twirl and heart hurt. Turning around to look at the other, you noticed a teardrop that made it down his jaw. Wiping it off gently, you smiled, speaking in a low and calm whisper.

“No... no. Let’s... let’s go. Let’s disappear together, wherever that takes us, Juyeon” The mind finally accepted the sudden feelings that were no longer confined and hidden. The imaginary, but nonetheless strong, cage and restrictions were no more. You finally felt proper euphoria of freedom.

Speechless, but immensely happy, that’s what Juyeon was in that exact moment. His chest abruptly wasn’t enough space for the organ that beat at an incredible pace, with new-found strength. Tightening his hold, the male pulled you towards his chest, into a first, proper hug. Your hands sneaked around his body, trying to squeeze as hard as possible and relish the beautiful moment. In such an intimate position, it was possible to feel that exact excited heartbeat of the male.

After a long period of comfortable silence, you quietly spoke into his chest, “Please piggyback me... wherever... I don’t think I can walk”

“Oh my god, you’re hurt?!” Juyeon noted in an alarming tone, eyes immediately scanning your body and finally noticing a streak of red liquid on the concrete underneath your leg. He loudly cursed at himself for not seeing it earlier, hand reaching down to press on the wound. Although not fresh, it still gushed out more blood, earning another hiss from you.

“Yeah, no shit mister... fuck be careful! I wouldn’t go all baby... and soft on you if I... I didn’t feel like fainting. You were lucky today” You bit back jokingly, trying to keep the light atmosphere that was slowly coming down its high. Juyeon’s head shook at that, a quiet ‘you’re not in position to speak like that’ passing through his barely parted lips. A pair of hands worked fast on tying a thin jacket around your calf to stop further bleeding.

“How?” He asked, confused but curious at the same time.

“I’d rather not talk about it” Your head turned away from the other, irises locking onto one of many holes on the wall. The male chuckled at that, checking the knot before standing up with knees half bent. He helped you stand up and climb up on his back, strong arms instantly gripping the back of your thighs.

“Bet you hurt yourself, clumsy”

“Yeah, bet”

With a loud, content sigh, your head lowered onto Juyeon’s back, eyes closing as you finally drifted off to sleep. There, on the closed, but broad battlefield, the two warriors accepted their faith. They made up their minds for a different future, something neither were sure how to approach, but were more than ready to experience together. A future that didn’t revolve around blood, murder and secrecy, one that would allow both to heal and live their lives breathing properly.

Quatervois, a heavy change no one expected. A decision made fast, but a result of long, aimless thought and experience. And some may say this was deemed to happen sooner or later, but was it? If things were just slightly different...

Guess we would never know.

AN: well... here it is? truthfully speaking, i’m very satisfied with this work, and i love every piece of it, but it has been giving me so much stress oh my god... writing has taken me so much time because i tried so hard to make it perfect and i really hope reading almost 22k of this was worth it, and that you’ve enjoyed it. at some parts, i’ve maybe focused on the main female character too much, but i think that to understand her character, it’s important to have an in-depth point of view. i’d really appreciate it (to the moon and back) if you guys could leave feedback for this one. thank you so so so much for reading, have a good day <3

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