#((me coming this a month late forgetting what my original reply was gonna be. What if hand real-)) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

artificialqueens · 2 years ago

Text

[WIP] The Miracle of Living - Lita

A/N: So - picture it, Sicily, 1934. Many many moons ago I wrote a ludicrous/devastating Bitney AU based on the San Junipero episode of Black Mirror that I never bothered my arse posting the conclusion of. Veronica specifically was obsessed with this AU, and has been pestering me to upload the rest of it almost incessantly for literally years. Cut to last year, myself and V met up IRL and turns out spending three days in a hotel with the bitch gives her a lot of time to peer-pressure you into restarting writing projects that you originally started when you were still in high school. The original AU is…fine, but there were plot holes and unaddressed issues that have been bothering me for years, so because I’m me, I’ve decided to just totally restart the whole gd thing with more backstory, more tragedy, and more bullshit.

This has been a long, long time in the works, and I have no ETA for the first completed chapter, but you’ll get it eventually. So, now I’m here - again, under duress by V, but here regardless. Since I’m a good daughter, here’s the first snippet of the prologue to the main story (because I inexplicably decided it needed a prologue.) Enjoy, divas xoxo

Los Angeles, California

“BEN!”

Bianca’s furious voice rings out through the small apartment. She’s sitting on the toilet with her pajama pants and underwear around her ankles, willing the second blue line to disappear. If anything, it’s getting darker.

“Uh…yeah?” The tentative reply comes from the other side of the bathroom door..

“I thought you said you wore a fucking condom!”

“I did!” Ben protests from the other side of the bathroom door. Then, meek and cautious: “��It might have split.”

“It might have what?”

Two and a half months ago, Bianca and Ben had gone out drinking to commiserate the ends of their respective relationships - Ben had found out about his long-term boyfriend’s secret Grindr profile and dumped him, then Bianca’s longest-lasting FWB had called it quits with her less than a week later. When they got home, drunk and dumb and miserable, they’d started making out with each other on the couch - as a joke, just for something to do. And then, since they were shitfaced and apparently didn’t know any better, one ‘joke’ led to another, and they’d woken up naked in Ben’s bed. They had laughed it off the morning after, hunched at the kitchen table over alka-seltzer and black coffee - too much liquor, too many emotions. Shit happens.

And then tonight, Bianca had mentioned offhand that she was incredibly overdue her period, and suggested going out to buy a test half as a joke. Ben had gone along with it a little too willingly, and he’d been overly-energised and super fucking weird on the walk to the drugstore. Really, Bianca should have known something was up when he’d detoured via the liquor store across the street, and came back with two bottles of tequila.

“Ben, are you fucking kidding me?” Bianca says through her teeth.

“I was gonna tell you,” Ben replies, sounding flustered. “Is the door locked? Can I come in?”

Bianca wants to say no, but it was Ben’s curiosity about her vagina that got them here in the first place, so who cares about whether or not he sees her now? She reaches over to turn the lock. Ben shuffles into the room in his leopard-print boxers and an oversized pajama shirt, and perches on the edge of the bathtub, looking at the floor.

Part of Bianca wants to burst into tears - another part of her wants to scream until she throws up. Not now. Not fucking now - not like this. She’s twenty-two; Bianca doesn’t even know that she wants a goddamn kid at all, forget about one fathered by her gay best friend.

“Look, I didn’t notice until after we were done. And I didn’t want to freak you out - I figured it would probably be nothing, and then there was never a good time, and then you told me you were late and I…”

“You’re a faggot, we were hammered, we fucked because we thought it would be funny - if you knew that there was anychance whatsoever that you’d knocked me up, you should have fucking told me!��

“So, you’re pregnant?”

“Yeah - no shit, Sherlock.”

“Do you think you should take another one? To make sure or whatever?” Ben asks. Bianca presses the heel of her hand to her temple, still not breaking eye contact with the pregnancy test.

“Nope - that looks pretty positive to me,” Bianca shows it to him, wiping the mist of stress-sweat from her brow. Ben pulls a vaguely disgusted face. There’s a moment of pause - Bianca bites her lip, struggling to make sense of the messy cocktail of emotions swirling around inside her head.

“Are you okay?” Ben tries to take Bianca’s hand. It feels weirdly violating to have someone touching her while she’s sitting on the toilet. She swats him away, chuckling and shaking her head.

“I think so. I need a little time to get my head around…everything,” Bianca sighs, still staring at the test. “I really didn’t see being a single mom in my life plan.”

“Who says you have to be a single mom?” Ben tilts his head.

Bianca scoffs.

“What? No- Ben, I really don’t want to date you - one night was bad enough.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. But like…if you’re gonna go through with this, I’m not just leaving you by yourself to do it. Both of us did something dumb, and now we’re here - so, both of us should have to parent the consequence.” There’s a quiet, sympathetic smile on Ben’s face. Bianca still wants to fucking kill him.

“You’re just saying that so I stop being mad at you.”

“No! Anyway, I can’t let you raise it by yourself - I love you, but the world really, really doesn’t need two of you.”

“Ha-ha, go suck a dick,” Bianca rolls her eyes. She can’t help but crack a smile.

“If this is what happens when I try to go outside my comfort zone, then yeah, that’s what I’m sticking to.”

****

Sydney, Australia

“So…what the fuck do we do now?”

“Get ratarsed?” Vanity offers, lifting a bottle to her lips with a grin.

The Louboutins she’d insisted on dropping a bomb on for graduation had barely stayed on the whole way through the ceremony; her bare feet are resting in the grass, her dirty-blonde hair glowing golden in the sunset. Her red lipstick is smudged and her foundation has half-sweated off, and she looks beautiful.

“I mean beyond that,” Courtney says, lying back on the hard ground and stifling a burp. “Like…how the fuck do we doanything? I don’t wanna be an adult.”

There was only so much formality that the two of them had been able to stomach. Vanity has the attention span of a toddler, and Courtney didn’t know anyone else well enough to give a shit about socialising with them. She had Vanity; she’d been there since they were in kindergarten, and she was all that she needed. So, they’d stolen two bottles of cheap champagne from the boring, stuffy grad afterparty and escaped to watch the sunset in the park - the endeavour was more killing time pre-drinking and waiting for the clubs to open than trying to do anything cute or memorable, but Courtney couldn’t lie and say she didn’t love it a little bit. Calm moments with Vanity didn’t happen very often - she herself was the storm.

Four years of university for…this. Life seemed so vast and confusing. Courtney had expected to come out prepared to face it; but if anything, she just feels smaller and less ready for the next fifty or sixty years she had left to screw around on the planet. She doesn’t know how to entertain herself for that long. Sucks to be her, she guesses - the journalism degree she’d pursued felt useless. After spending last summer interning at a newspaper, she’d learned that the career choice that seemed chic and fun when she was seventeen was mostly sitting around in an office being bored, when she wasn’t being sent on coffee runs.

At least she wasn’t in Vanity’s boat - passing her major by the skin of her teeth and with the assistance of a stack of mitigating circumstance forms, with an attendance rate of 17%, two spates of alcohol poisoning, and one arrest for pissing in the street under her belt. She’d viewed higher education more as an opportunity to party for four years. But they’d made it - both of them had.

“Tough shit,” Vanity shrugs. “Nobody ever fucking knows what they’re doing, they just pretend to. You’ve got like, forever to figure it out.”

“Are you really someone I should be taking life advice from?” Courtney tilts her head.

“What do you mean? I’m a fucking delight.”

“You did skip a month’s rent to pay for those shoes,” Courtney observes - Vanity elbowing her in the shoulder with a playful laugh.

“That’s not irresponsible, it’s self-expression - fucking transphobe,” she scoffs. “I’ve got twenty years worth of masculine posturing to get out of my system, let me have my expensive shiny shit.”

“You think you were masculine? Like, ever?” Courtney laughs. Vanity nods in a way that indicates a little too much sincerity. “Vanity, I’ve known you since we were six - I’m still convinced that the only reason we’re friends is because my parents let you play with my Barbies.”

“It was originally, but I learned to like you too,” she shrugs. Courtney grins.

Last year, after a particularly messy night in the club, they’d stumbled home - Vanity a dozen drinks and two lines of white miscellanea deep, Courtney not far behind her - and congregated in the cramped bathroom of their shared apartment. It had become a ritual. Getting home as the sun was coming up, parking themselves on the tiled floor, or in the empty bath, or kneeling in front of the loo if they’d really overdone it - exhausted and sweaty and coming down, but unable to accept that the party was over. Like most nights, Vanity started crying. Usually it was about a boy, or her parents, or her general ennui. The bitch had a lot of fucking demons. But this time it was heavier. And she wouldn’t tell Courtney what the fuck the matter was. Eventually, the confession had tumbled out of her mouth in between breathless sobs, as she slumped against the wall with a half-finished bottle of wine in her hand; Courtney sat on the toilet, mid-piss and unsure what to do with herself.

So, that was it. Vanity was a woman. And left to her own devices, she would have been all too content to keep pretending that she wasn’t - with the help of a steady stream of one-night stands and whatever mind-altering substance she could get her hands on. Can’t acknowledge your problems if you’re not sober enough to remember what they are. Courtney hadn’t so much helped her come out of the closet as she had dragged her out of it kicking and screaming.

Vanity had always been the one who knew what she was doing - louder, more confident, even when they were kids. Growing up, Courtney really hadn’t had friends; Vanity had friends who let Courtney hang out with them. Courtney adored the bitch - someone had to - but she had always felt a little pinch of jealousy towards her too. She shrunk in comparison to her best friend.

And now here she was; Vanity was staggering blind into this new phase of her life, with Courtney - who at that point had been accomplishing womanhood to relative success for twenty-one years - by her side, ready and willing to teach her whatever she needed to know. She’d had all of these cute little fantasies about shopping trips and manicures, being the one to school Vanity in femininity.

Annoying thing was, once Vanity had finally admitted that the ongoing gender crisis she’d been ignoring since her mid-teens wasn’t going away any time soon, she’d just blossomed into herself. Everything seemed to come so naturally to her; she hadn’t needed any of Courtney’s help, except from borrowing a lipstick here and there. So, the jealousy remained - she’d only been doing it for eleven months, and Vanity was better at being a girl than Court was too, on top of everything else.

But Courtney didn’t really give a shit. Whatever saccharine big-sister daydream she’d had about her role in Vanity’s ‘new’ way of being didn’t really fucking matter. Vanity was…actually happy, arguably for the first time ever.

“Do you think we should start thinking about making a move? That three-for-two happy hour thing at Ginger’s finishes in a bit,” Vanity ponders, swallowing back the dregs of her champagne.

“Can we just chill here for a bit longer? Let me finish my existential crisis before you start thinking about where your next drink is coming from,” Courtney scoffs.

“You can sweat over the futility of your sad little life any time you like, do you have to do it right now?” she huffs, picking at her chipping nail polish.

“Please,” Courtney says, looking up at her with plaintive doe-eyes and reaching for her hand.

“Fine - you’re such a fucking loser,” Vanity grins.

She lies back in the grass, resting her head on Courtney’s shoulder and playing around with a lock of her hair. The last sliver of sunlight is still glowing dusky orange, and Courtney is pleasantly tipsy and, for all her internal stress and bullshit, she feels this air of calm washing over her. Panicking about what she was going to do with the rest of her life could wait until tomorrow, at least.

Vanity slips her hand into Courtney’s. Her presence feels warm and safe and familiar - she smells like cheap vanilla perfume and hairspray, and it’s overbearing but Courtney adores it anyway.

#rpdr fanfiction #wip wednesday #bianca del rio #bendelacreme #courtney act #vanity faire #bitney #san junipero au #lesbian au #lita #v are you fucking happy now #(YES!!!!!!!! never so happy to have bullied you! xxxxx! -v)

4 notes · View notes

planetkiimchi · 11 months ago

Text

the language of flowers | l.jn

featuring: film director!jeno x artist!reader (no gendered terms), jaemin, chenle and jisung cameos

summary — jeno doesn't speak of his affection in words. instead, he teaches you that the letter "L", in his love language of flowers, is for lavender lozenges, lily of the valleys, lockets and love.

author's note: damn the stars rlly aligned for me to post this one... originally was just gonna let it rot in my drafts but here i am posting it for @strxbrymochi 's bday. happy belated bday ki !! muah ily. also, this is part of the “and they were roommates” universe.

You should have been prepared for Jeno to be constantly busy when you started dating him four months ago. But it still comes as a shock to you when Jeno sits you down on a Saturday afternoon, a plate of violet cookies placed in front of you.

"I'm sorry," he begins. The moment the words escape his lips, you know what this is all about. Even so, you keep quiet, allowing him to continue with the apology he's prepared.

"I've been signed on to do a short film, and they want us to do the shooting overseas."

Although you knew it was coming, it still comes as a punch to your gut. Being away from Jeno is hard for you, and you don’t want to let him go.

"Where to?" you ask, the words coming out before you can stop them. It's too late now to tell him to stay, and you curse your brain for being two steps behind your stupid, ever-running mouth.

"London. It's a Victorian era film, they said, about flowers."

You permit yourself a small smile. "You love flowers."

Jeno looks down, nodding once. "Yep."

You reach over, tilting his chin up. "Look at me."

He does, eyes quivering anxiously while he waits for you to speak. You’re always the one talking—rambling—and now that you’re silent, it must scare him. You touch your forehead to his, and you feel him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Don't be sorry. Go, and enjoy yourself. Pour your soul into it. I'll wait for you to come back, okay? Don't forget me when you're busy working with everyone else."

Jeno lifts up his hand, and you press your palm against his, fingers interlocking with his. "Won't forget you," Jeno mumbles. "I couldn't ever forget you."

You grin, kissing his nose. "I know you wouldn't, silly boy."

—

As Jeno wheels his luggage over the smooth airport floor, he turns to look over at you, shuffling your feet and staring at the ground. He leans over, whispering in your ear, "Blue salvia."

Think of me. It's one of the first flowers that Jeno gave you before you started dating, a secret confession you only learnt about when he finally told you what it meant. Now, it serves as encouragement for you, something to accompany you when Jeno can't.

You smile at him, eyes wide and pensive. "Have a safe flight."

Jeno wraps you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. He doesn't know when he'll get to see you again, and he's not sure if he can survive these months without you. But for both of your sakes, he'll try.

"See you later, alligator."

"In a while, crocodile," you reply, the familiar words a promise between the two of you to weather this storm together.

—

Jeno sits in his seat, flipping his phone in his hand as he waits impatiently for the plane to take off. He tries his best not to look at the time, trying not to count down the seconds in his mind, trying not to keep track of how long it's been since he last saw your face.

An announcement starts to play, asking all passengers on the flight to turn their attention to the flight attendants as they begin the safety briefing. Jeno looks at the flight attendant, but doesn't process the words he's hearing, his mind too focused on the thought of you.

He slips his hand into his pocket, his fingers finding purchase. The plastic crinkles in his palm as he draws the object out, realising that it's a sweet. You told him once that you always have to bring sweets when you’re flying, to suck on in order to prevent your ears from getting blocked.

Jeno has packed the mints you asked him to, but they're in his bag. He swiped the lavender lozenges from your stash that morning, a keepsake to remember you by on the trip. As the pilot announces that the plane is taking off, Jeno pops the sweet into his mouth, the taste of sugar and lavender dissolving on his tongue.

He misses you.

—

Jeno is rudely awakened from his sleep by Jaemin shaking his shoulder. "Good morning," the elder says in a singsong voice, and Jeno's eyes spring open. He casts Jaemin a dirty look, but the latter just grins back at him.

Jeno sighs irritably, getting to his feet and hauling himself out of the bed. His heart's not in it—not in this trip, and maybe not even in the film—and Jaemin knows it.

However, it's not like either of them has a choice. Jaemin liked the script for this film, and Jeno did too. He had plenty of ideas for the film. Despite it being a small project, Jeno believes it can turn out much better than people are expecting it to.

The only issue is that it's not in Korea. It's far away from you, and Jeno needs you in more ways than one. You are his source of comfort and his pillar of strength, but most importantly, you are his muse. Without you, he finds himself unable to function, not knowing which step to take next. Because all he wants to do is find the path that leads back to you, even if it's the worst or stupidest decision he could possibly make.

Longing gnaws at him every day, carving a giant you-sized hole in his chest. He snatches his copy of the script off the table, and Jaemin takes a sweeping glance over the room.

"You've surprisingly tidy for someone who looks like he has zero motivation to keep things organised."

"That's because all of my shit is in my suitcase, so I'm prepared to go back at the shortest notice."

Jaemin rolls his eyes at Jeno's retort, clapping his hands together. "Alright, smartass. Get moving so you won't be the last one to arrive again."

Jeno tugs on his shoes, slipping his hands into his coat and taking an umbrella before getting out of the door.

—

Your takeout arrives earlier than expected, and you suddenly recall that you haven’t checked your mailbox in almost a week. Usually, Jeno's the one who does it, collecting mail while waiting for the elevator to arrive. When Jeno had just left, you had made a conscious effort to check the mailbox every day, but now that it's been almost a month, you’re starting to forget again.

You pick up the takeout box and place the food on the table before exiting again and heading downstairs to check the mailbox.

As per usual, the mailbox is full of bills, although usually the number of letters is much fewer. You mindlessly flip through the envelopes, not paying much attention, until one of the letters catches your eye.

It's sealed with wax, which strikes you as odd—who even uses wax to seal envelopes in this day and age?—and you place it on top of the other letters to examine later.

Upstairs, you neatly place the letters on the dining table for you to settle later on. Then, you turn your attention back to the sleek, cream-coloured envelope, intrigued.

You take a closer look at the wax seal, realising that it's a stamp of a flower bouquet. Could it be from Jeno? you wonder.

It doesn't seem very likely, however. Jeno has never been one for dramatic flair, and the simple yet elegant letter practically screams dramatic. There's only one person you knows that's this dramatic, and it's…

"Donghyuck," you breathe out. One of Jeno's college friends, Donghyuck is the definition of dramatic. He loves to exaggerate and make a big fuss out of everything, and it's entertaining to say the least. Donghyuck is also chattier than most, similar to yourself, and the two of you had hit it off when you first met at one of Jeno's college roommate's place.

Donghyuck is essentially your key to Jeno's past. Jeno has been a solitary creature for all the time you’ve known him, and he doesn't talk much about his life before he met you. Besides Jaemin and Donghyuck, Jeno doesn't initiate much interaction with his old friends either. His friends respect that, so you don’t know much about what Jeno was like in the past.

However, Donghyuck is different. He loves to bring up embarrassing memories, inside jokes, and tell people old stories about his friends. You have always loved to listen to Donghyuck talk about Jeno in college, or even his first impression of Jeno when he saw him around in high school.

If it weren't for Donghyuck, you might not even have known about Jeno's friends' whereabouts now, nor have gotten to know about them.

Remembering the letter in your hand, you hurriedly get a hairdryer to heat up the seal, gingerly removing it and opening up the letter.

Dear Jeno and Y/n, you are cordially invited to Lee Donghyuck and Ha Yeon-seok's wedding...

Wait, what? You read the first line again, your heart stopping when you see the word “wedding”. Wedding? It takes you a few seconds to remember that you’re 24 now, which is almost a reasonable age to get married at. Since neither you nor Jeno had dated anyone for a while before you got together, sometimes you forget that other people have been dating for years now.

You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, and continue reading.

The wedding is to be held in London, and it briefly crosses your mind that Yean-seok is half British. Once you’ve processed that information, you do a double take and check the date. It's in six months from now, and you have to get presentable clothes that fit the colour scheme within that time period.

While you’re wondering now to get the clothes in time, your phone dings.

jeno: hey, y/n you: hello jeno: i have... news.

Jeno calls to inform you that, regrettably, there has been a complication with some of the scenes. For one scene in particular, they had arranged for a horse carriage to be used during the filming. However, due to a miscommunication, the horse has been sold to someone else instead.

The screenwriter insists on having the horse be a specific breed for stylistic reasons, but the budget for the project makes it infeasible for the team to find a suitable horse in a short span of time.

Jaemin wants to postpone the project so he can discuss the details with the screenwriter, and clarify everything to ensure there will be no more hiccups in the production. The rest of the team will either fly back to Korea, or stay in London, whichever is more convenient for them. Since editing can be done remotely, there is little incentive for them to all have to renew their visas.

However, Jaemin has asked Jeno to stay in London so all of the important members of the team can be physically present, to ensure everybody is on the same page.

When you ask Jeno when he will return, he shrugs and says, "In two months, or half a year—I have no clue."

Although you’re upset and annoyed with his lack of a reaction, you understand that Jeno is upset too. He's suppressing his emotions, which is a bad habit of his. But you aren’t going to lash out and make him feel more demoralised, so you just mutter a quick "love you" and hang up.

After hanging up, you belatedly realise you haven’t told him about the wedding invitation yet. Still reeling from his indifferent attitude, you decide to tell him after both of you have cooled down.

—

Days turn into weeks, that turn into months, and somehow you haven’t been able to address the issue of Donghyuck's wedding. You have been through your closet countless times, and after rummaging and filtering through both of your clothes, you’ve prepared a suitable ensemble for both of them.

You’ve sent an RSVP to Donghyuck to let him know that you and Jeno would be attending, and an excited Donghyuck had sent you a video of Yeon-seok and himself clapping happily.

You have also booked a flight for a week before the date of the wedding, to give yourself time to adjust to the time difference, and you plan to stay after the wedding to spend time with your and Jeno's friends as well.

Despite having settled almost everything, you’ve left one very important detail out—you haven’t discussed it with Jeno yet.

Jeno knows that there's a wedding, of course. Donghyuck had announced it in the group chat when he and Yeon-seok first got engaged, and Yeon-seok had sent an update once the details of the wedding were confirmed.

When Jeno told you about the wedding, you told him about the invitation, and you both laughed over how excessive it was.

But if you said any more about the wedding, you’d have to bring up the elephant in the room and ask if Jeno would still be working on "Chamomile Tea" during the time period, if he'd be busy, or if he'd return to Korea before that. And that, even after all the time that had passed, remained a sore spot for both of you.

So even as the date loomed closer, your conversations with Jeno never went too far in the direction of the wedding. Instead, you tiptoed around the upcoming event like shattered glass was sprinkled over it, and you didn't know what the consequences of stepping on it would be.

Arriving in London is a dream. It always has been, since you learnt that their universities look like castles and their winter consists of dreary, rainy mornings that are perfect for staying in and cuddling while cheesy rom-coms play on the TV. But it's never been your dream to land in London alone, with no one to pick you up from the airport, standing starstruck in the middle of the polished floors while people hurry by.

Some lady you don't recognise waves at you. When you frown, squinting to see if it's a familiar face, the lady walks up to you and grins, "Hi! I'm Soyeon."

You cock your head in contusion.

"I'm the screenwriter for 'Chamomile Tea', the short film Jaemin's overseeing. He wasn't able to come because he's busy trying to keep Jeno out of trouble, he said."

You let out a short laugh. That does, in fact, sound like Jaemin's job most of the time. Soyeon hands you a ticket, folding your fingers around it before you can protest.

"Jeno wanted all three of us to go to an art museum to get inspiration, but I've already finished my part for this project. All that's left for me is to give input, not come up with more ideas. Jaemin suggested that I give my ticket to you, so here it is." Taking a closer look at the ticket, you realise that it's an exhibition meant to celebrate the changing of season from summer to autumn.

"Leaves turning brown," you read aloud. "Petals fall and colours fade, yet many are enraptured by the cooling season that is autumn. Artist Hwang Yeji explores textures, colours and more in this vibrant display."

Soyeon smiles encouragingly at you. "I've known Jeno only for a few months, and he's always been extremely cold towards everyone, but his face lights up whenever he receives a text from you. And when you order takeout for him? That's the only time I see him enjoy his meals."

Your lips tremble as Soyeon continues, "Jeno's mind is a complex place. I'd hate for all that creative potential to be wasted just because he's busy moping. That's why I offered to pick you up instead of Jaemin—I was interested to know who could be the only one to make Jeno truly smile."

You close the distance between yourself and Soyeon, wrapping your arms around the latter. Even if you have only just met her, Soyeon seems so sweet and genuine. Her honest words caught you off guard, but you are touched that she dared to say them.

Soyeon pats your hair comfortingly. "Let me know if you need any more help."

You discreetly blink back tears, ignoring the stinging sensation in your nose, and force a smile. "Thanks, Soyeon."

"You're very welcome."

—

You climb out of the taxi with a sunflower in hand and your suitcase in the other. The exhibition is held in a building with windows as wide as you are tall, the stained glass illuminated by the sunlight.

The lady at the entrance scans your ticket and waves you through with a smile, and you return it before heading on inside.

Panels upon panels of stained glass line the corridors, angled in a way that pictures of light are projected on the ground, weaving between the paintings, casting an angelic glow on each artwork.

Jaemin catches your eye before you can get stuck at any of the paintings, and shushes you with a finger on his lips as you speed up.

"Hi, jagiya," he says lowly, wrapping you in a quick hug. "Jeno's busy and I didn't tell him you were coming, so the rest is up to you. I'll leave the two of you alone, okay? Call me if you need me."

You nod, squeezing his shoulder gratefully.

—

You tuck your sunflower behind your back and wheel your suitcase to the side, silently approaching Jeno. He's completely absorbed in studying the details of the painting, so you gently rest your chin on his shoulder.

"Hey, baby." Jeno turns, coming face-to-face with you. Your noses touch, and from the corners of your eyes, you see Jeno's cheeks flush red-hot. You raise your hand to cool his cheek, but he grabs your wrist first, eyes locked on your face. His pupils dart from side to side, scouring your face as if he's afraid you’re just a figment of his imagination.

You stay in that position, Jeno’s fingers curled around your wrist, until he's convinced that you’re real, at which point his face floods with exhaustion and relief.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into the space between your chin and collarbone. His hands come to rest naturally around your waist, and his hand brushes against the sunflower.

He moves back suddenly, surprised, and you awkwardly manoeuvre your arms around him. This allows you to present the sunflower you bought at a nearby florist to your boyfriend, and you’re delighted by the grin spreading across his lips.

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" He asks.

"No, but you've given me red camellias, and I think that’s basically the same thìng."

Jeno chuckles. "Basically.”

Jeno reaches for your suitcase, holding tightly onto the sunflower you’ve just given him. He turns to you, raising his eyebrows expectantly. "Well? I'll take you back to her hotel."

You frown, pulling back in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

"Aren't you tired?"

You wave his concern off flippantly. "I'll be just fine. I'll crash later, and the jetlag will hit me like a truck, but I've already allocated a week for getting used to it."

Jeno snorts. "As expected."

You wave your ticket. "Hey, Soyeon's already passed up her chance to see this exhibition so I could go, okay? I'm not planning to waste it."

Jeno nods hastily in an attempt to placate you. "Okay! Let's go then."

He trails behind you obediently until you see a piece that catches your fancy, stopping to take a look. The painting depicts several lilies of the valley in a vase. Behind the vase, there are two mountains painted in grey, but the small patch of grass that the lilies sit on is several vibrant shades of green.

You stay in front of that painting for a while, impressed by the details and texture on the canvas. A shutter sound catches your attention, and you blink a few times before turning to see Jeno holding up his camera and smiling sheepishly.

He rubs the back of his neck and says, "Sorry, I couldn't help myself. You looked too good standing there, I just had to get a shot of you."

"It's okay." You look back at the canvas, eyebrows knitting together.

"Don't you think the art style looks familiar?"

"I don't know much about paintings, so I can't say... " Jeno's reply dies on his lips, and he, too, stares at the painting with interest. "You're right, it does look familiar."

The two of you hum in concentration, Jeno resting his chin on top of your head while you wrack your brain for an answer. You tilt your head this way and that, and then it hits you.

"Park Jisung," you say at the same time Jeno does. "How did you–"

Jeno points at a small square of text. "It says right here. Park Jisung, 24, oil on canvas." You mentally slap your forehead. How could you forget that museums put up a description of each artwork and its artist? You must be too tired from the flight.

"That's right, " you say. "That's why it looks so familiar. Contrasting colours was one of the most defining aspects of his style."

You met Jisung at a kids' art camp when you were in university, and the two of you had learnt a lot from each other while teaching the kids. You were surprised to find out that he was two years your senior in a different university, despite being the same age as you.

You lost contact with him after that, and were very, very shocked to see him at Jeno's college reunion. Although you don't speak much to Jisung now, the things you learnt from him at that one camp will stick with you forever.

"That kid's insane," Jeno muses. "He skipped a year in elementary, lived with hyungs he barely knew in university, and did side jobs because he hadn't gotten a scholarship to pay for his tuition fees, unlike Yeon-seok."

You shrug. "Maybe not 'insane'. Just determined."

Jeno nods. "And he's not much of a kid anymore, is he?"

You shake your head with a smile. "Not anymore."

—

As you wander around with Jeno, stopping at paintings to admire them, a sense of melancholy threatens to overwhelm you, slipping between your eyelids like a mass of black water, a receding wave preparing to crash upon the shore of your eyelashes.

You blink back thoughts of insecurity, trying to focus on the artworks and not your feelings, but it’s no use. You can’t escape from the thoughts running wild in your head, and it gets the better of you, a lone tear managing to get past your barriers, trailing slowly down your cheek.

You subtly wipe it away, but Jeno notices immediately, and he stops short.

He turns towards you, concern emanating off his being, and it offers you some comfort. He holds you carefully, like he’s not sure if you’ll break apart in his hands. His body shields you from anything else in the museum, encasing you in a bubble of protection and silence.

You breathe in deeply; once, then twice. You feel the heat behind your eyes slowly fading to a simple stinging sensation, one that doesn’t make you feel completely helpless.

Jeno’s hands tighten around you, and you instinctively lean in towards him. He doesn’t speak, allowing you to unravel the spool of thread wrapped around your lungs, prying apart the anxiety that prevents you from breathing.

When you can think straight again, you look at Jeno, and he knows.

Without words, understanding passes between you, and Jeno knows everything that’s running through your mind.

He nudges you, gently. Are you okay? his eyebrows ask, raising so high they almost disappear into his fringe.

You can lie about a lot of things, like why you came to the museum in the first place or how you feel staring at the art on the walls or whether you’re okay right now, but you don’t. Because you know that regardless of what you say, Jeno will see right through you like you’re a ghost. You’ll never understand if it’s because it’s you, or if everyone’s feelings are transparent to him. You don’t think you care.

It’s enough to just stand there, weightless. You’re completely supported by Jeno, whose embrace is so tight it’s practically lifting you off the ground, and you;re not complaining.

If he could lift your burdens off your mind the same way he’s lifting your feet from the ground right now, he would. And you would want him to.

“I feel like my art’s worth nothing if it can’t be shown to the world.” You speak slowly, uncertainly, knowing you might cry if you let everything out too quickly. Jeno wants to stop you before you get caught up in the flow of you words, but he knows it’s better if you let it all out.

Opening a bottle of carbonated soda that’s just been shaken is dangerous, but if he leaves it alone, the bottle might just explode.

“I know I don’t make art to be seen. I make it for myself. But at the same time, can any artist say that their craft is not made for the eyes of man? We all long for approval and praise, and that is partly what we make art for.”

Your lips tremble, and Jeno finds himself forced to stare at your quivering eyelashes and the sheen of tears you’re barely holding back. Still, you steel yourself, digging your heels into the ground to steady yourself.

“I wonder, sometimes. If my art isn’t seen, is it even art anymore?”

That’s the minefield, the question Jeno can’t answer without speaking baseless comfort. He has no answer to it, only empty words that he knows will fail to put you at ease.

You, however, don’t expect an answer. You look curiously at Jeno, waiting for a response, but the response doesn’t have to be a satisfactory answer.

Jeno leans in, tucking your head between his chin and his collarbone, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

He holds you there until you’ve stopped trembling. Then, one hand still firmly in yours, he takes you back to the hotel, sitting on the edge of your single bed while you sit and stare into nothingness.

When you make no move to get changed, he stands, and brings you to the bathroom. He peels the clothes from your body, helping to scrub your skin until it’s a rosy shade of pink, then wraps you in a towel and moves your arms to dry your body.

After he’s showered, the two of you sit on the bed, Jeno on top of the covers, while you’re tucked underneath them. Jeno has no change of clothes, no money, only his phone and both of your tickets to the museum.

In his street clothes, he refuses to get under the blanket and dirty the bed, but you are content with his presence.

You lie on the bed with your arms wrapped around Jeno’s waist, and when the shock has faded, you cry yourself to sleep.

Jeno is there throughout it, a beaming light in the whirlwind of emotions you’re experiencing, a constant presence that grounds you. He allows you to breathe between sobs, until they slowly fade away and your eyes close, motionless.

The next day, you find a wreath of galaxes on your bedside table, along with a glass of water, and it feels like a great weight has finally been removed from your shoulders.

The day of Donghyuck’s wedding comes earlier than you were expecting. Between taking you out to dinner and going on bike rides around the city, Jeno has kept you busy. Busy enough to forget your troubles, or at least for you to be able to cope with them in a relatively healthy manner.

You hear three knocks on the door, and as you go to open it, you see Jeno standing there, in the emerald green tuxedo you picked for him and the matching tie. His shirt is a pale green, so pale it can be mistaken for white, and gel gives his hair a wet gleam.

He smiles innocently, and it outshines all the charm his outfit has.

You fell in love with all of Jeno, after all, not just his appearance.

Your sage green dress flows past your ankles, and it would drag on the floor if you weren't wearing heels. They’re tall, but even with them on, you are still only the same height as Jeno. He grins at you, and carries you, bridal-style, into the lift lobby.

“Leave some room for the grooms later, stop trying to one-up them,” you joke, but Jeno only hoists you up into a more comfortable position.

“No can do,” Jeno says cheekily.

You don't pursue it.

—

A surprise awaits you in the car. As you open the door to the passenger side, you find that it’s filled—and so is the driver’s seat. Your heart skips a beat, thinking you must’ve gone to the wrong car, but the sight of the driver’s face makes you do a double take.

“Jisung?”

Jisung offers you a shy grin. “Yep, it’s me.”

“Is it really you? I thought… I never thought I’d see you again! How–” your words come out from your mouth before you can think them through, your rapid-fire Korean faltering in your confusion.

“Donghyuck and I are friends, remember?” You don't really, but if Jeno and Jisung are friends from college, it makes sense that Donghyuck would know them both too.

You clap a hand over your mouth, mind reeling. “So… you were invited to the wedding too?”

Jisung nods. Then, he gestures towards the lady in the driver’s seat. “I also have to introduce her to you. Y/n, meet Yeji. Yeji, Y/n.”

Yeji offers her hand for you to shake, and you take it, wondering where you’ve heard the name before. Yeji, Yeji, Yeji… Ah. You’ve got it. “Hwang Yeji?”

She’s the artist who organised the exhibition Soyeon had given you tickets to view. It was there, at the museum, that you saw Jisung’s art. If she really is Hwang Yeji, then everything will make sense.

Yeji nods. “Pleasure to meet you.”

She picks up a small bouquet of pink peonies, orange tulips and heather, presenting it to you. “Jisung showed me a few of your pieces, mostly older ones,” she says by way of explanation. “They had the potential to become something more. I heard from Jeno that you’d seen my exhibition, so I know you probably like flowers, and you know that I like them too. So this bouquet is an invitation for you to work with me some time, for us to perhaps collaborate on another exhibition in future.”

You are taken aback by the sudden offer, but you’re not an idiot. You remember the way you had collapsed into Jeno the week before, scared that you would never be able to get your art out there. Now, your chance is right in front of you.

You take it.

Gratefully receiving the bouquet, you don’t miss the symbolism of the flowers, the goodwill the arrangement holds. You know it is intentional.

“Thank you for your offer. I look forward to working with you.”

Yeji shakes your hand heartily, and you and Jeno get into the backseat.

After settling in, you rest the bouquet on your lap, and you turn to see Jeno holding a white rose. You frown, wondering where he could’ve conjured it from, and lock eyes with Jisung in the driver’s mirror. You raise your eyebrows in question, and he shrugs innocently.

You roll your eyes at the conspirators, but turn your attention back to Jeno. Jeno carefully slips the white rose into the side of the bouquet, managing to prevent it from looking uneven. You play with the petals of the rose, its symbolism clear in your head.

Used to congratulate people on career successes, your mind supplies helpfully. The only career success you can think of right now is also the most recent one, Yeji’s offer to you. But there’s no way Jeno could have known that Yeji would put that offer out. Unless…

“Did you know?” You ask, tone accusing. You doesn’t have to finish the question; Jeno understands what you’re talking about.

“No, I didn’t know if Yeji would offer to work with you for an exhibition. Jisung only told me that he had shown Yeji your art, and I had faith in your abilities. I knew that after witnessing the extent of your talents, Yeji would have something good to offer you, career-wise.”

You can’t argue with that. The logic is sound, and the flowers are cohesively pretty. You continue to play with the petals, a small smile dancing on your lips.

The smile doesn’t escape Jeno’s attention, and he smiles too.

—

It starts to drizzle as soon as you reach the wedding place. Jeno is quick to procure a clear umbrella, holding it for both of you. He knows you wouldn’t want to get your clothes wet.

Jaemin is there too, one hand tucked into the pocket of his trousers, standing by the side. Donghyuck’s wedding is a loud, chaotic one, with many guests you don't recognise all talking with each other. Jaemin hovers at the vague edge of the crowd, as much of an introvert as Jeno, and you tug Jeno over.

“Hi, jagiya.” Jaemin envelopes you in a warm hug, and he smells like home.

Jeno opens his hands for a hug too, but Jaemin only laughs and swats his hand away. Jeno slings one hand over Jaemin’s shoulder, and you snatch his umbrella away, going off to find Donghyuck.

The two men stand side by side, Jaemin still holding the umbrella, watching you disappear into the hordes of people.

—

The rain gets heavier, and you try to occupy as little space as possible, not letting a single part of your body protrude from under the umbrella. Droplets of rain splash onto your shoes and your face, and you wipes them from your face with the back of your hand.

Jisung stands beside Donghyuck and Yeon-seok, with Chenle, Jaemin’s old roommate, and a couple of other men you can’t remember the names of. Donghyuck and Yeon-seok’s roommates from university, you think, because you remember seeing them at the reunion.

You congratulate the grooms, and move to stand next to Yeji and Jisung. The small circle are the only people that have gotten a chance to speak with Donghyuck and Yeon-seok, and by the looks of it, their conversation isn’t going to end anytime soon.

Yeji makes small talk with you, and you laugh about a few shared experiences, before you notice the crowd starting to disperse, and the officiator announces that the wedding is beginning.

You move back to where Jeno is, and he leaves Jaemin with his umbrella, ducking under your umbrella to join you.

The wedding is simple and sweet, and there are tears all around as the two bridegrooms say their vows.

“...to love and to cherish, until death does us part.” Jeno’s fingers suddenly falter, and the golden locket he’s been fidgeting with throughout the wedding slips through his fingers. He lunges to catch it, and you finally notice what he’s been doing with his hands.

Resting one hand on his left knee to calm him down, you nuzzle into his neck, and nudge his hand open with your index finger.

“What’re you holding?” you ask under your breath.

“Nothing.” You briefly register the officiator allowing Yeon-seok and Donghyuck to kiss, and you look up at them just in time.

“Open your hand,” you command.

Obediently, Jeno uncurls his fingers, and you take the locket from him. You fumble with the clasp, but it springs open, and there’s a picture inside. Squinting, you realise that it’s a picture of you and Jeno, taken when you weren’t paying attention. Your hand is shielding your eyes from the sun, and Jeno’s firm hand is wrapped around your waist, pulling you close.

Your grip on Jeno’s knee tightens.

“How long have you been carrying this around for?” You ask, voice slightly hoarse.

Jeno looks away. “Since we took the picture. It’s been, what, two years?”

You feel your throat seizing up, and you force yourself to take a few deep breaths. Jeno has been carrying the locket around for two years. Almost the same length of time that you’ve been dating for. He’s loved you enough for the whole span of that time to carry a picture of you around wherever he goes.

You can’t breathe. “You’ve been carrying this around for two years?”

Jeno shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, like a soldier going off to war,” he quips. Somehow, you’ve switched to Korean, but you don't quite register it. It just feels right, better, to speak in your native language.

It fits, the same way your body fits into the cracks of Jeno’s body, the way his arms wrap around you and fit into every nook and cranny of yours. Your scars line up against each other’s, and Jeno is the puzzle piece that makes you whole.

“So you love me.” It might seem strange, after all they’ve been through, to doubt it. But it hasn’t been long, and you hate to give yourself away, to love somebody else. Every day, you wonder if you’ve crossed the line from like to love, or if you’ve fallen out of like with each other.

“Yes.” You never knew one word could turn your world upside down. The rain has eased, but it feels like there’s water rushing in your ears, heart pounding.

Then, “Are you okay?”

You hear it from your other side, your left side, and you see Yeji there, concern in her eyes. You turn your attention back to the proceedings, and see Donghyuck taking the wedding bouquet from Yeon-seok, preparing to toss it in the air.

“Yes,” you say, determinedly. Jeno guides your hand to tilt the umbrella backwards, giving both of you a better view of the grooms, and the water continues to flow off the umbrella.

Neither of them makes a move to take it, leaving the more eager guests to rush towards Donghyuck, surrounding him. He turns his back towards them, Yeon-seok moderating the crowd, and tosses the bouquet into the air.

It arcs towards the middle of the crowd, and a lone carnation falls out. Jeno reflexively reaches out for it before it can fall on the soaked grass, and he tucks the yellow carnation behind your ear.

His face is right next to yours, his breathing fast and rapid, and you hear the pulsing of his heart when you place a hand on his chest.

Jeno leans his forehead on yours, the umbrella creating a bubble of silence and tranquility amidst the loud cheers and celebration outside of it. A tear rolls down his cheek, and he smiles, the tear caught on the upside of his upper lip.

You watch as he licks it away, and brush the pad of your thumb against the trail of the tear.

“Are you crying?” you ask softly.

“No,” Jeno says, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “It’s just the rain.”

You wrap your arm around his neck, nose bridge aligned with his, waiting quietly.

“I know you don’t want to get married now,” Jeno says. “But please, take this carnation as a promise that I will never let you have your heart broken.”

You have heard false promises fall from Jeno’s lips before. You’ve faced his broken promises, seen through his lies, accepted his empty praise. This time, however, it’s different. You know it in your heart, can hear the dogged beating of his heart, refusing to hurt you again.

You smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll take that promise.”

—

floriography

violet: a declaration to always be true

blue salvia / azure blue sage: harbours sentiments of missing and thinking of someone.

peppermint: warmth of feeling

lavender: purity, devotion, serenity, grace and calmness.

sunflower: adoration and loyalty, long life and lasting happiness.

chrysanthemum: longevity, fidelity, joy and optimism.

red camellia: you’re a flame in my heart.

galaxes: encouragement.

pink peonies: good luck, prosperity and success

orange tulips: joy, enthusiasm and excitement

heather: admiration and support

white roses: symbolises innocence and purity. used to congratulate people on career successes.

carnations: symbolise pride and love for someone in a supportive way. used to tailor bouquets to one’s favourite colour due to their ease of dyeing.

#nct #nct dream #k-labels #🪁 — my works #jeno #nct fic #nct dream fic #jeno x reader #jeno x y/n #nct dream x reader #fic: the language of flowers

129 notes · View notes

dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Lucky in Love

Pairing: poly!Dream Team x gn!reader

Summary: [Soulmate!AU] It’s one thing to meet your soulmate in a lottery, and another to have more than just one. But when you end up winning Dream’s Minecraft Manhunt raffle, you find your world turning upside down in ways you least expect.

Word Count: 9.9k

A/N: behold, my first commissioned story! this story has been altered from it’s original form so everyone can read it, but the majority of the plot and writing remain the same. i had a lot of fun writing it, and i hope you all like it! <3

You stumbled into your bedroom with a yelp, your thumb flying across your phone screen to the home button and pressing gently. With a gleam, the time flashed back at you, and your eyes shot wide open.

You were going to be late.

Leaning forward on one leg, you pushed the door behind you shut with your foot, bouncing forward as soon as you heard it click shut. Your eyes swept across the room, your gaze catching on a swath of black cloth sitting at the foot of your bed. With a quirk of your lips, you tugged the shirt off the mattress before turning on your heel. Darting to the other side of the room, you easily settled back into your desk chair and let the shirt drop onto your thighs.

Grabbing your mouse, you moved your cursor to the YouTube bookmark at the top of your screen, your computer screen instantaneously flooding with light. You scrolled over to the left side of your screen, your mouse hovering over a familiar green icon before clicking, a new box popping into view.

Stream starting in 60... 59... 58... 57...

You felt your lungs tighten within your rib cage, your toes curling ever so slightly into the floor. It had been a nerve-wracking month of waiting and pacing, crossing each day off the calendar with an anxious grin. You almost couldn’t believe that the day had finally arrived. Letting out one last breath, you leaned forward, the t-shirt feeling heavy in your lap.

3... 2... 1...

All of a sudden, the screen went dark. Your reflection stared back at you from the dim screen, your excited eyes peering back at yourself with a curious glint. Reaching up, you brush an unkempt lock of hair away from your forehead, just in time for two familiar faces and a lime green icon to appear.

The Dream Team.

“Hey, guys!” Dream said, his voice sounding like a breath of fresh air. “How are you all doing?”

A flurry of hearts flew across the live chat screen, the lines moving by so quickly that you couldn’t tell when one message ended and another started. Practically bouncing in your seat, you couldn’t help the smile that skittered across your cheeks.

“Good,” you whispered aloud to yourself in the quiet of your room. You knew that they couldn’t hear you when you talked like that, that they wouldn’t know you had even replied at all, but it made their streams feel a little more lively nonetheless.

After a brief pause, Dream’s voice filtered through the air once more, just as bright and eager as it was earlier. “Good? I hope the answer is good.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart flipping in your chest as your fingers curled into the shirt in your lap. That sort of thing happened sometimes: a streamer would say something and your verbal response almost made it feel like they were actually holding a conversation, like they were actually with you right now. These sorts of things were always a coincidence, but when everything in your world was connected by fate, sometimes you let yourself be a little hopeful, let yourself imagine that maybe it wasn’t dumb luck—that maybe it actually meant something.

Hell, maybe it meant you could be soulmates.

Soulmates were a tricky thing to think about, really, even if everyone knew they existed and that one day, they would meet theirs. No one could pinpoint when exactly soulmates came to be, but no one rejected their presence either way. It wasn’t like they wanted to, anyways. To have a person who was perfect for you linked to you by the universe—it was no wonder people were more than pleased to discover they weren’t just some old lover’s tale.

But even then, some were skeptics. How would you really know when you had found your soulmate? What if you missed them by accident? For you at least, you already knew what it would feel like. You couldn’t count just how many times you had asked your mother that very question, but you could practically rattle off her words by heart.

“You’ll know exactly when it happens, I promise, sweetie,” she would murmur, stroking your head with a gentle hum and soft eyes. “When you first touch, it feels like... like you’ve been struck by lightning, and you’ll be tingly all over. Something inside you just sort of clicks when you look at them, and you’ll just—you’ll feel it right here.” She tapped her finger over your heart, a wistful expression settling across her face. “It’s... it’s magical, and you’ll never forget that feeling—not for the rest of your life.”

The smile that would tug on your mother’s lips made you all the more hopeful, a heavy yearning settling deep into the crevices of your heart as the years went by. Even now, as you sat watching Sapnap and George bicker with each other while Dream chimed in with a snarky remark, you felt that same fleeting hope rising up in your chest, warm and soft.

Maybe—just maybe—they might be your soulmates.

Not that they actually were, of course. You knew better than to get your hopes too high.

But as you watched Sapnap’s lean a little closer to his camera and listened to George’s breathy laugh, you felt your heart swell the tiniest bit.

Connected by fate or not, these boys were special to you, even if you had never met.

Sapnap blinked as his eyes darted across his monitor, raising his eyebrows with surprise as he let out a short whistle. “Oh, wow, we’re pulling... holy crap—over seven hundred thousand viewers, right now.” You could vaguely hear the scrolling of his mouse, his lips twitching. “Everyone sounds so excited in chat, too.”

George’s eyebrow quirked. “I mean, of course they are. Manhunts are loads of fun—who wouldn’t want to be a part of them?”

Sapnap’s face split into a teasing grin, and he leaned back in his chair. “Ooh, you sure sound cocky, George.”

George blinked once, then scowled. “Wha—shut up, it’s true! Why else would there be so many people here?”

A devilish gleam flickered across Sapnap’s gaze. “To see your pretty face, maybe.”

George’s frown deepened, his eyebrows knitting together into a glower. “Sapnap, you—”

“Look, look,” he cried, wagging his finger at his monitor, “even chat agrees!” His lips curled up into a smirk, mischievous and amused all at once. “You’re not gonna say chat is wrong, are you, Gogy?”

You could have sworn a hint of rose flushed across George’s cheeks as he averted his gaze from his camera, his voice coming out softer than before. “W-Well, I—”

“Boys, boys,” Dream suddenly cut in, George’s words trailing off in an instant. Despite the firmness of his words, there was an amused lilt to his tone, the smile evident in his voice. “You’re both pretty, alright, but can we please move on? I bet everyone’s dying to know who won.”

George opened his mouth, then let out a sigh, shaking his head with a hint of a smile gracing his lips. “You know what, Dream’s right. Let’s move on.”

Sapnap snickered on his side of the screen, still grinning widely. “You just can’t handle the truth.”

George groaned, deadpanning into the camera. “We are not starting this, again.”

Sapnap smiled, but didn’t get to speak before Dream cut him off. “You’re right,” he said, sounding a tad more hurried than before, “we’re not, because I’ve got the results, right here.”

You suddenly sat up, your heart stuttering. That same spark of hope fluttered up between your lungs, and you found yourself shuffling your chair forward, squinting in anticipation. Curiosity quivered around the edges of your mind, a certain eagerness pawing at your side as you watched a white pop-up fill the stream.

Everybody had an equal chance of winning—you knew that. That everyone may include you, but it also included every other person who bought one of those shirts. It didn’t take a genius to know that you weren't going to win. After all, not everything was guaranteed like having a soulmate was.

“And,” Dream began, dramatic and slow, “our winner is...”

You squeezed your hands, clasping your palms together with a feeling you couldn’t quite name.

“...shirt number 267815!”

You blinked, your brows furrowing together. That number sounded... oddly familiar. Your eyes flickered down to the shirt in your lap, the white tag peeking back up at you.

It couldn’t be.

All of a sudden, Dream’s voice rang through the air once more, sounding even clearer than ever before.

“Oh, and the name connected to the shirt is... [Y/N]!”

Your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest, your eyes shooting wide open as your jaw dropped.

I... won?

You gaped at your screen, only half-registering the sight of Sapnap and George clapping. The chat had become a blur of words you couldn’t bring yourself to read, your vision growing hazy and unfocused with shock. I must look crazy right now, you thought to yourself distantly, rubbing at your face. This can’t be real.

George’s gaze locked directly onto the camera, and for a second, it almost felt like he was speaking directly to you. “Congratulations, [Y/N]!” He wrinkled his nose with an apologetic smile. “I hope I’m saying that, right. If I’m wrong, please tell me.”

Sapnap chuckled, shooting him a devious grin. “Knowing George, he’s probably wrong.”

Your lips twitched at the frown that flitted across George’s face before Dream took over again. “Ignore them—they’re being dumb.” Before either of them could protest, he quickly added, “Anyways, welcome to Minecraft Manhunt! We’re looking forward to meeting you. We’ll send you an email soon, and you can give us some more info there.”

You nodded at your monitor, your lips still parted in surprise. “We’ll be ending the stream now,” Dream continued, “but thanks so much for everyone else who participated. Your love and support mean the world to us!”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, and it sent a rush of warmth shooting down your spine. “[Y/N],” he murmured, suddenly sounding soft, “we’ll see you soon.”

As George and Sapnap waved one last time at their cameras with excited grins, you swallowed. Your heart rattled in your chest as the screen faded back to black, and you found yourself sitting face-to-face with your reflection once more.

You were right—you looked just as dumbfounded as you felt.

Slowly, you closed your mouth, lowering your gaze to the shirt in your lap. The axe that was laid out across your thighs somehow seemed brighter than it did before, almost as if someone had painted over it with a newer, shinier layer of white.

Lifting the shirt to your chest, you felt a wide grin tug at your lips—wider than any grin you had ever smiled before.

Maybe you were luckier than you thought.

Your finger hovered over the left button of your mouse, your breaths coming out shaky and short as they pumped through your lungs. The Discord call already had three icons waiting for you, and all you had to do was click to join them.

Breathe, [Y/N]. You’re only about to talk to three of your favourite content creators on the planet. It’ll be easy.

You paused, listening to the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’m not fooling anyone.

A groan rose in the back of your throat, and you hung your head in your hands for a long moment. “C’mon,” you whispered to yourself. “You can’t keep them waiting forever.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, then lifted your head, nodding once, then twice. Yes, okay—calm. I can be calm. Your finger twitched. Let’s do this.

Your hand reached back for your mouse, the cool plastic melding against your skin as your cursor hovered back over the call. Squeezing your eyes shut for just a second, you let your finger press down, a familiar ping echoing through your headphones. There was a beat of silence. Then, someone spoke.

“Hi! Hello!”

You jumped at that sound of Dream’s voice, your heart skipping a beat as you quickly reoriented yourself again. “H-Hi, there,” you said as calmly as you could muster.

“It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]! I’m Dream.” There was a slight pause, then he added hesitantly, “Did I say that right, by the way? Your name, I mean.”

Your lips curled up into a smile, and you felt the tension seep out of your shoulders. “Yes, you got it right.”

You could almost imagine him grinning to himself triumphantly. “Perfect.”

A new voice suddenly jumped in, just as eager as Dream’s. “Don’t steal the spotlight already, Dream,” Sapnap whined, his icon flashing green. “There’s three of us, not just you.” Ignoring Dream’s quiet apology, he quickly moved on. “I’m Sapnap—it’s great to have you here.”

“And I’m George,” another voice added, his prominent accent sounding like honey in your ears.

Every ounce of anxiety you had been feeling earlier felt so far away now, their voices carrying your worries off over the horizon. “It’s nice to meet you all, too. My name’s [Y/N], but you already know who I am, don’t you?”

“Well,” George said, drawing out the vowel, “we may know a few things about you, but we don’t really know who you are—that’s something we want to hear from you.”

Sapnap made a noise of confirmation, his mouth moving at lightning speed as he suddenly began to fire off question after question. “Yeah, like, what’s your favourite flower? Or season? Which one of us do you think is the most handsome? Ooh, what about—”

“Woah, woah,” Dream cut in, wheezing ever so slightly, “one thing at a time, to start. Let them breathe, at least!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the hints of laughter tinting his voice. “It’s okay!” you said, your lips splitting into a crooked grin. “Although I don’t know if I can answer those questions.”

George let out a confused noise. “No? Why not?”

You hummed, swinging your legs around your chair. “Like for my favourite flower, I think they’re all really pretty and look nice, in their own little ways. Same thing for seasons.” You chuckled. “I’m too indecisive to pick just one.”

“But who do you think is the most handsome out of the three of us?” Sapnap prodded, excitement seeping into his tone. “It’s definitely me, right? Come on.”

“Hey,” George suddenly quipped, rushing through his words, “no flirting yet! We only just met!”

There was a brief second of silence. “I mean, isn’t that technically the best time to start flirting?”

“Sapnap.”

“Fine,” Sapnap sighed. You could practically hear him roll his eyes. “Friends first, flirting later.” You were about to breathe a sigh of relief when he added, “Carry on, though. I still want to hear your answer.”

Chewing on your lip, you stiffened, drumming your fingers against the side of your keyboard. “I’m telling you,” you sighed after a long moment, “I really don’t think I can pick. As a matter of fact,” you pointed out, raising a finger. “I don’t even know what one of you looks like.”

Now, it was Dream’s turn to speak up. “Then, talk about attractiveness, in general. It doesn’t just have to be about looks.”

You froze, your posture going rigid. Attractiveness in general…?

How could you possibly encapsulate their attractiveness just like that? Dream was so incredibly clever, and you loved to hear him talk about his passions. George was smarter than he let on, and you could see it in the way he coded their videos, working relentlessly to make them work. Sapnap was beyond affectionate, and just hearing him share his affection with those around him made your stomach melt. They were just handing you a recipe for disaster with a question like this, you knew it.

“This question is impossible,” you blurted, a gentle panic seeping into your tone. Narrowing your eyes, you leaned closer to your mic, adding with a teasing lilt, “Are you trying to torture me?”

“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t,” Dream hummed, chuckling at the small whine that escaped your lips. “Either way, it’s cute to hear you struggle.”

Your breath suddenly hitched in your throat, but Sapnap was quick to leap forward. “Hey, what did we say about no flirting?”

Another beat of silence. “Killjoy.”

“Okay, moving on from that,” George said, quickly diverting topics, “how are you feeling, [Y/N]? Are you looking forward to the manhunt?”

You looked back at the call, your eyes locking onto the three Discord icons sitting next to your own. “Yes,” you admitted, “but I’m also very, very nervous.”

“Nervous?” Dream repeated slowly.

“Nervous,” you said again, “but a good kind of nervous.” You opened your mouth, then closed it. “Actually, I think excited is a better word to use. You guys always just seem like you have so much fun when you’re around each other, and I’m just...” You waved your hands in front of yourself, feeling your heart beat faster and faster while your face grew hot once more. “I’m just really excited to film with you all and play Minecraft together.”

Silence washed over the call, and your cheeks felt like they were about to burn right off your face. “Sorry,” you mumbled embarrassedly. “That—that probably sounds really dumb.”

“It doesn’t,” Sapnap said suddenly, making your gaze grow wide, “not at all.”

“Yeah,” George added with a joyful hum. “I dunno about those two, but I’m also excited to play with you, [Y/N].”

Dream guffawed, a scoff escaping his lips. “What do you mean you don’t know about us? Of course we’re excited! [Y/N] is great!”

You nearly fell out of your chair. “H-Huh?”

Dream’s voice was suddenly soft again, both parts soothing and cheerful all at once. “We might have only known each other for a little while, but I’m telling you, we’re beyond happy to have you here, and we want you to have a good time, too.”

“Oh, a thousand percent,” George said straight-facedly into his mic. “I’d trade you for both of these nerds in a heartbeat.”

Just like that, Sapnap was yelling as you heard Dream smack his desk. “George, what?! How could you say that?”

Giggling, you sank into your desk chair with a relieved smile, pressing a hand over your eager heart. “Thank you,” you murmured, only hoping they could hear the sincerity in your words. “I hope I don’t let you guys down.”

Their raucous bickering suddenly died down at the softness in your tone, and three voices spoke at the same time—each one sounding more honest than the last.

“You could never.”

You leaned forward in your desk chair, your eyes glued to your screen as you watched Dream’s avatar stand as still as a rock, frozen and entirely unmoving. Your finger hovered over your W key, waiting for the perfect moment to strike as your tongue darted out to flick over your bottom lip.

Manhunts may be stressful, but you were more than ready to tackle this one headfirst.

It happened so quickly that you nearly missed it. In one moment, Dream was standing in front of you, stock still as you stared him down. In the next, he was darting off in the opposite direction, already a whopping ten blocks away.

Sapnap’s voice shot through your headset like a bullet as he shouted, “After him!”

He didn’t need to say it again before the group was already dashing across the grassy field, boosting each other forward every other block. You clicked frantically at George’s backside, your lips twitching in glee as he shot the slightest bit closer to Dream. With each passing second, they ran further and further, Dream lying just a few steps out of reach. All of a sudden, he leapt off the side of a cliff, vanishing from sight in an instant. Coming to a screeching halt atop the hill, you watched as Bad peered over the forest, Sapnap and George hot on his heels.

“Where’d he go?” George muttered, confusion clouding his voice.

You shifted your mouse left and right as your gaze darted across your screen, scanning every pixel for even the tiniest hint of neon green. Just then, a gasp flew from your lips, and you caught Sapnap jolting in your direction at the sound.

“Look!” you cried, clicking to point over at the greenery. “He’s on the right—on top of the trees!”

Without missing a beat, everyone was leaping off the hill and barreling across the trees, ignoring their fall damage as they jumped over small gaps. “What is he,” George grumbled under his breath, “a monkey?”

You let out a tiny giggle at the genuine annoyance in his tone, but didn’t stop chasing after Dream’s running figure. Suddenly, he just barely missed his jump, bouncing twice on the same leaf block. He had only stalled for a brief second, but that was more than enough time for you to spam click your mouse. In a flash, Dream was tumbling off the tree, with you trailing right after him.

“I hit him off!” you shouted in glee, elation making every one of your syllables soar in your throat. “He’s on the ground.”

“Nice one, [Y/N]!” Sapnap chuckled with delight. “Now, don’t let him get away!”

The praise made the triumphant feeling that had unfurled beneath your ribs spread even farther under your skin, warming you from head to toe. Pushing forward, you nodded and slammed your thumb down on your space bar.

You had no plans of letting him escape.

You pulled your water bottle from your lips with a gasp, quickly screwing the cap back on before setting it down on your desk. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you turned back to your monitor, your gaze focused on the anvil a few blocks away. To your left sat the portal, and to your right was a wall of obsidian.

You were four hours into filming now, but you still weren't tired. How could you be, when you were so close to the end?

Clicking on the anvil, you dragged the diamond axe in your inventory into the first slot before reaching for the enchanted book sitting just beside it. Forty-two levels—you would need forty-two levels to enchant your axe with Sharpness IV.

You glanced down at the space above your hotbar and grinned.

Luckily for you, you had forty-three.

Clicking once more, clanging echoed through your ears, and you placed your newly enchanted axe in your hotbar with a proud smile. It was an absolute pain having to kill as many mobs and loot as many desert temples as you did, but for this, it was absolutely worth it. Now, it was time for the rest of the plan.

“I have no idea how you came up with this,” George said earnestly, his character facing yours, “but I love it.”

You grinned, opening up your inventory and removing your amour. “I just got really, really lucky.”

Grabbing an invisibility potion, you suddenly paused, a hint of uneasiness sinking in your gut. If Dream noticed any particles, you would be dead in an instant, and your plan would be blown to smithereens. You would have to move quickly to make it work—almost ridiculously quickly.

Swallowing, you opened your mouth. “Do you guys think we can really pull this thing off?”

Sapnap let out an easygoing chuckle, your shoulders relaxing in an instant. “Oh, I know we can.”

Letting Sapnap’s confidence run through you, you held down your mouse’s right key, downing the invisibility potion in one go before turning to rush out of the portal room. Through your headphones, you heard Dream let out an inquisitive hum, curiosity flickering through his tone. “Just what are you guys up to?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” Sapnap fired back without missing a beat, his voice swimming with mischief.

While George let out a wheeze and you giggled at Sapnap’s sharp quip, Dream sighed, muttering, “So much for asking.”

Huffing out one last quiet laugh, the smile fell from your face, your eyes narrowing as your expression grew serious. You moved ever so carefully through the stronghold, weaving in and out of the labyrinthine halls like a snake on the hunt. Your gaze darted back and forth between the compass in your hotbar and your screen. With each sharp swing of the compass hand, you held your breath, turning until it was pointed forward again. You had been searching for a few minutes when suddenly, you spotted it.

A glimpse of green.

Dressed head to toe in enchanted iron armour, Dream’s avatar stood in front of a wall of furnaces, smelting away as he turned from one to the next. On the same wall was a crafting table and a chest. He was planning something, you just knew it, but you didn’t have the time to question what. After all, he was facing the wall opposite from you, completely unaware of your presence.

This was the perfect chance, and you weren’t going to waste it worrying.

Creeping forward, you stopped only when you stood just a single block away from him, switching from your empty hand to the enchanted diamond axe in your hotbar. With Sharpness IV, it would only take three critical hits for you to take him down.

For a second, all was still.

Then, you were pressing down on your space bar and clicking your mouse a half second later, watching with bated breath as Dream’s avatar twitched from your attack. One.

He had barely managed to turn around before you had already landed another hit on him. Two.

By the time he had pulled out his own axe and began scanning the seemingly empty air in front of him, you were slamming your finger down one last time. Three.

With a shout, Dream dropped dead before you, his inventory exploding into a mess on the floor at your feet. You blinked once. Twice.

Then, the call burst into a mess of screams and shouts.

Dream’s yell rang through your ears as George and Sapnap hooted in delight, Bad and Antfrost following with their own victory cheers. “What the heck?!” he cried, shock filling his every word. “[Y/N], was that you? Oh my god, where did you even come from?”

Practically gasping for breath, you nearly collapsed on top of your keyboard, the adrenaline slowly wearing off as you smiled triumphantly to yourself. “[Y/N], you did it!” Sapnap shouted, just as loud as before. “You—you just—holy crap!”

“I was so stressed,” you breathed, sagging against the back of your chair with a breathless laugh. “You have no idea.”

“You were awesome, so awesome,” George managed between giggles, his own voice sounding giddy and positively overjoyed. “I knew you could do it.”

Your cheeks half-felt like they were about to start hurting from how hard you were smiling, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as Dream’s tired laugh filled your ears.

“Congratulations, [Y/N],” he murmured fondly. “You won.”

Just a week and a half later, you couldn’t believe your eyes as you scrolled through the comments section of the new video.

[y/n] was so funny omg

They made this manhunt feel so much more special

Their chemistry as a group was so good wtf!!!??!

please bring [y/n] back I am in LOVE

[Y/N] SUPREMACY

With each new comment you scrolled past, you felt your heart swell more and more in your chest with a mixture of joy and pride. You didn’t expect people to respond so positively to the video—to you.

You had barely made even a dent in the hordes of comments about you when a Discord notification popped up on your laptop screen. In a flash, you were pulling up Discord, quickly clicking on the appropriately named group chat, [Y/N] KILLED DREAM!!

Sapnap: hey

Sapnap: hey did you read the comments

[Y/N]: i did! people were so positive!!

[Y/N]: i wasn’t expecting it

George: You weren’t?

You furrowed your brows, reading George’s question twice before typing once again.

[Y/N]: of course not??? i’m just some person

[Y/N]: you guys are the dream team

George: Don’t put yourself down like that

Sapnap: yeah everyone liked the video because they liked you

Dream: well then

Dream: how do you feel about coming back to film again?

You stared at your screen in awe, something hopeful and weightless rising in the expanse of your chest. Filming another video? With them?

You didn’t even have to think before your fingers were typing out a response.

[Y/N]: i would love to

Peals of laughter tumbled from your lips as you rolled over on your bed, your phone perched beside your head on your pillow. A split second later, a loud whine echoed from your phone speaker, and you found yourself laughing even harder, your lungs gasping harder and harder for breath with each giggle that was pulled from your throat.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have guessed that you would be here.

It had been nearly a year since the fateful day that brought you and the Dream Team together and a little over ten months since you had first filmed together. Now, three videos and countless streams later, you were closer than ever before, cracking jokes and pushing each other’s buttons like you had known each other their whole lives—maybe even longer than that. It took some prodding, but you even called Dream by his real name, now. As much as you liked the name Dream, Clay sounded much nicer, in your opinion. Texting daily was practically a sacred ritual now, and you couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t get spammed by their texts at least four times a week. Even now, as you lay on your bed with your phone connected to Discord at your side, you were chatting with them, grinning as wide as ever. It was a comfortably pleasant lull you had fallen into, the four of you—one that you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life sinking into.

It was comfortable indeed, but even as complete as you felt now, you felt like there was something missing—like there was a hollow cavern in your chest just waiting to be filled.

Yet another shout suddenly pulled you out of your thoughts, the noise sounding even more astounded than it had before. “How was I supposed to know that that was Russia?”

The sheer amount of shock in George’s voice immediately made you burst into another fit of giggles, throwing your head back. “There was Russian on the sign!” you managed between breaths. “It was so obvious!”

He sputtered at the sound of your laughter, sounding absolutely appalled by your reaction. “You can’t just expect me to be able to read Russian!”

You grinned, your voice dropping the tiniest fraction. “You act as if you don’t know how to say a few things in Russian.”

There was a moment of silence. Then, Sapnap whistled. “Touché, [Y/N]. You’ve got him there.”

While George groaned, surely smacking his palm into his forehead, Clay spoke up with a teasing hum. “You should play some GeoGuessr with us more often. You’re way better at this than George.”

“This is bullying,” came a distant complaint from George, his voice coming out muffled through his mic.

“It’s the truth,” you corrected with a cheeky grin. “You cannot deny that.”

There came a snort, followed by Sapnap’s gentle laugh. “Look at you, [Y/N], being so mean all of a sudden.”

You smiled lopsidedly, trying to push back the shiver that ran down your spine at the way his low voice made your insides melt. “You know you guys love it.”

“We do.” Clay’s voice almost sounded far away, muffled and hazy. “We really, really do.”

Your heart leapt into your throat as a soft silence washed over the four of you, your chuckles dying down and fading into the quietness of your bedroom. Sighing deeply, you picked at your nail, silently begging your heart to calm down again. It was right then when George softly piped up.

“Hey, [Y/N],” he said quietly. When you let out a small noise, he continued. “We… you would call us close to you, right?”

You laughed at the hesitancy in his tone. For a second, he almost sounded shy, and it sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach. “Do you even have to ask? We’ve been friends for months—of course we are!”

You could make out the faint sound of shuffling from Clay’s end, his icon flashing green. “Are—” He coughed. “Does that mean we’re close enough to ask you a… somewhat private question?”

You raised an eyebrow at his tone, your curiosity piquing. “Go for it,” you said gently, letting your eyelids flutter comfortably shut.

“Have you met your soulmate yet?”

In an instant, your eyes shot wide open again, and you lay frozen in your bed. In all the time you had known each other, not once had you brought up the topic of soulmates. It was almost as though you had simply skirted around it, too shy to press on about. But right now, with the topic lying right in front of your face, you couldn’t just avoid the topic.

Your fingers twitched as your mouth fell open. “N-No,” you stammered, the butterflies in your stomach going oddly still. “I, um, I haven’t. Have any of you?”

There was a pause. “No, none of us.”

You thought for a moment, your heart mulling over those four little words. Then, you exhaled and let your shoulders relax against the mattress, your nails curling into your palm. “I’m sure you guys have nothing to worry about,” you murmured almost hazily. “There are probably thousands and thousands of people who would love to be any one of your soulmates.” You chuckled, but it tasted bittersweet on your tongue. “Heck, there’s probably at least half a million fans who would be dying to take my place, right now.”

On the other end of the line, you were met with silence, but it was fleeting. “What about you?” Clay suddenly asked.

You blinked, your palm going slack. “Me?”

“You,” Clay affirmed, sounding more serious than before. “If you were one of our soulmates, how would you feel?”

The words left your lips before you could stop them. “Happy,” you blurted, suddenly feeling breathless. “So, so happy. I—”

You suddenly slapped your hand over your mouth, cutting yourself off with wide eyes. Realization struck you like a lightning bolt, and you could feel your blood run cold in your neck. I did not just say that.

“What—” George stopped. Then, a second later, he continued. “Which one of us would you want it to be? To be your soulmate?”

With trembling fingers, you moved your hand away from your mouth, your voice coming out small. “Are you asking me who I like most?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

You almost felt your heart drop, bolting upright until you were sitting atop your sheets. Wrapping your hand around your phone, you balanced it on your lap, uncertainty springing up in your gut.

Who... I like most?

Dream, George, and Sapnap. Sapnap, Dream, and George.

To think that just a year ago, you had never spoken to them—had only ever known them as three strangers through a screen. Yet here you were now, their voices soft against your ear and your heart aching at the sound of their laughter. They made you smile beyond belief, and you wouldn’t miss a call with them for the world, even if it was three in the morning and you were dead asleep. Although you had spent time with each of them individually, just as friends did, you loved spending time with all three of them together far more, and you didn’t want to imagine having them any other way.

George, Sapnap, and Dream.

Who did you like most?

You swallowed, then opened your mouth. “I,” you choked out, “I don’t—I wouldn’t—”

You stopped, your heart pounding like a drum between your lungs. You could feel them waiting for you, as patient and caring as ever. The thought made you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Screwing your eyes shut, you sucked in a deep breath and whispered.

“I don’t think I could ever pick just one of you.”

The silence that filled the air as you closed your mouth was tense. A million unspoken words ricocheted off the insides of your mind, your heart racing within the confines of your chest. The air suddenly felt too hot, and you kicked the covers off your legs, curling your knees closer to your chest and resting your burning cheeks on top of them.

“Maybe this is a sudden thing to say,” Sapnap whispered abruptly, his words coming out slurred as he broke the silence, “but I really, really want to know what you look like right now, [Y/N].”

You felt your arms go limp around your legs. “Me, too,” George added, thoughtful and faint. “I bet you’re beautiful.”

Resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands, you ran your finger along the edge of your phone screen, the glass pressing against your hot skin. “I—um,” you began shakily, “you’ll see when we meet, okay? This way, two of us can stay a mystery.”

Clay’s soft chuckle rippled through your bedroom once more, bouncing off the walls and making your chest ache even more. “Alright.”

You felt your chest constrict with heat, feeling like you were almost about to burst at the seams from the way they were speaking. “W-Well,” you laughed, trying not to sound as panicked as you felt, “on that note, I think I’m gonna go to sleep now.” You opened your mouth to continue when a yawn cut you off, eliciting a string of laughs from your phone speaker. “I’m feeling pretty tired.”

“Sweet dreams, [Y/N],” George murmured tenderly. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed with your heart battering against your ribs. “Goodnight!”

Reaching over, you pressed your thumb over your phone screen, exiting the call just as swiftly as you had joined. That had been hours ago now, and while you were tired, you couldn’t shake the churning sensation in the pit of your stomach—twisting and turning as you laid back on your bed. You slipped your phone onto your nightstand, plugging it in in a forlorn haze before lying back once more. Staring up at the lonesome ceiling, you frowned, your heart suddenly feeling like an anchor in your chest.

Without even an inch of doubt, you knew: you liked them—all three of them.

And it was going to be the end of you.

Having a crush was a dangerous thing in a world full of soulmates, especially if they were online—even more so if you had multiple. You could only ever find out if someone was your soulmate if you met them in person, and you had heard far too many stories of couples meeting in person, only to learn that they weren’t fated to be. Combining that with multiple soulmate bonds slimmed the chances even further. Multiple soulmate bonds weren’t exactly unheard of, but they were rare. You had never met anyone who had one, and you doubted that you would be the first you’d know to have one.

You suddenly felt it—that familiar spark of hope you felt all those months ago when you sat at your desk chair with a shirt on your lap. The hope that drew you to them now was the very same hope that connected you in the first place. Your heart leapt, lapping up every last droplet like a man dying of thirst, yet with each new spark that rained down in your chest, the thought clawing at the back of your mind loomed larger and larger.

Just what exactly were the chances all four of you would be soulmates? It had to be next to nothing if it wasn’t zero already.

This wasn’t like the manhunt raffle—lady luck could only be so generous.

Rolling onto your side, you felt something deep inside you reach its hands up and wrap around your lungs, squeezing as tightly as it could. The ache that shot through your insides stung like a hot coal, but you knew there was nothing you could do to soothe its hungry flames. Unshed tears pricked the back of your eyelids like silver needles, and you squeezed your eyes shut, choking back a muffled whine. Your bedroom suddenly felt too big, your bed too empty.

Hope could be beautiful, but it could also destroy you from the inside out.

“Do not leave the call.”

Clay’s chuckle sent a frown skittering across your face, and you let out a small whine as you leaned forward in your desk chair. “Aww,” he crooned, teasing and light, “are you jealous, Georgie?”

“N-No, what?” George sputtered, and you could almost envision the way his cheeks would flush a pretty shade of baby pink. “Just—just don’t hang up.”

“I’m telling you,” Sapnap laughed with a sly lilt, his voice sounding a little more distant than Clay’s, “he’s jealous.” You vaguely could make out the sound of his signal light from inside his car, a muffled car horn echoing from outside. “Or at least if he isn’t, [Y/N] is.”

At that, you whipped your head up, blinking wide as you shot a glare at Sapnap’s Discord icon on the side of your monitor screen. “Well, [Y/N]?” Clay drawled, a flicker of mischief dancing in his tone. “What do you have to say about that?”

You curled your fingers into your hands, a small pout settling onto your features as heat shot across your face. “I—I am!” you said, your voice coming out a fraction louder than you intended. When the other line went quiet, you shuffled back in your seat, your cheeks burning even hotter. “I am jealous, okay? It’s... it’s just not fair that you two get to meet before we do.”

There was a brief moment of silence. You were being childish, you knew, but at least you were being honest. Suddenly, Clay spoke. “We know, sweetheart,” he said gently, not at all realizing how your heart skipped a beat at the pet name. “But you’ll be able to meet us soon. Just wait a bit longer, okay? I’ll buy you both plane tickets if I have to.”

You pouted with a dejected whimper, your finger drawing small circles onto the side of your desk. “Okay.”

“Don’t sound so sad,” Sapnap chuckled with a soothing coo. “As soon as we can get you two over here, we will.”

You let out a sigh, swinging your chair from side to side with a frown. Was it so wrong of you to want to meet them so badly, to want to see them and hug them? Part of you didn’t even care if you were all soulmates at this point—you just wanted to hear them laugh in person. You wanted to make them smile. Was that really so much to ask for?

“I see him!” Clay suddenly shouted. Your head shot up faster than a bullet, and you heard the sound of a front door opening and slamming shut. “Oh, Sapnap.”

“Oh, Dream,” Sapnap called mockingly, his smile shining through in his voice. There was the sound of the car engine stopping, then a car door swinging open. “Holy crap, you’re way taller than I expected.”

You chuckled at the surprise in Sapnap’s voice, hearing George laugh along with you. “Jeez,” Clay muttered, his voice overlapping ever so slightly with the mic on Sapnap’s phone. “It’s so weird actually seeing you in person, oh my go—”

All of a sudden, Clay went silent, cutting himself off with a strangled noise of surprise. On Sapnap’s end, there was a muffled choking sound, then nothing. In a flash, you were upright, your eyes wide and your hand flying to your mouse.

“Sapnap?” George called, his tone soaked with worry. “Clay? Are you two alright?”

There came a gasp, and you could make out the sound of Sapnap struggling to search for words. “You’re—Clay’s my—”

Just like that, it clicked, like a switch had been flipped inside you. You felt something in your chest deflate, and you opened your mouth.

“Soulmates,” you whispered so quietly that you would have missed it yourself, had you not been the one to say it. “You two are soulmates, aren’t you?”

George fell silent. “I think so,” Clay mumbled, his tone coming out as if he were in a daze. “I’ve never felt anything like that before in my life—it definitely feels like what everyone says, you know? Just, really warm, and.... and...” He trailed off, ending with an enamoured sigh. “Yeah.”

Your mouth felt as though it had been sewn shut, like you wouldn’t have been able to force the words from your lips even if you tried. “How did we not know after all these years?” Sapnap giggled, his voice swimming in a mixture of disbelief and affection.

“We’ve never met in person up until now,” Clay mused, his sentence rising at the end. “This is the first time we’ve ever seen each other, let alone touched.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Sapnap murmured back wistfully. The call suddenly went quiet, and a deep, disappointed quiet fell over the four of you. Not a word was said as the harsh reality slowly settled into your hearts.

Clay and Sapnap were soulmates.

Only Clay and Sapnap.

“I’m happy for you two!” George suddenly shouted, startling you in your chair. He sounded oddly chipper—too chipper. “I wish—” He suddenly choked, pausing for a moment to catch his breath again. “I wish I was already friends with my soulmate. Meeting new people is hard.”

“Who knows?” Clay chuckled. His words were teasing, but even they couldn’t mask how crestfallen he sounded. “Maybe [Y/N] is yours.”

“Yeah,” Sapnap hummed in agreement, the hopefulness in his voice sounding just as forced as his soulmate’s. “You hear that, [Y/N]? Maybe you and Gogy were meant to be.”

Your vision was hazy and unfocused, your gaze focused on the window in your room. In the corner of the glass was a small spider web, just barely the size of your palm. You watched with blurry eyes as a fly caught in the sticky web beat its wings in desperation, struggling helplessly as a spider crawled out from behind the windowsill. You distantly wondered how trapped that fly felt—if it knew that there was no point in hoping for anything better, now.

Turning away from the window, you focused your gaze down at yourself, down at the black shirt you were wearing. A clean white axe stared back up at you, and you felt a bittersweet smile stretch across your face as you uttered a single word.

“Maybe.”

A loud beep echoed from the ceiling speakers, and you jumped at the sound. All around you, people were bustling in and out of gates, towing luggage behind them as they rushed down the crowded pathways and between loitering groups of people. You whipped your head this way and that at the sight, your head spinning with all the new sights and sounds.

It was still hard to believe that just a few months prior, you wouldn’t have been able to step foot in an airport like this.

To see people move from one place to the next, seeing loved ones and meeting new people for the first time was almost exhilarating, especially after all that had happened with the world. You liked it, and you certainly hoped that it was here to stay.

You had just started walking down the main path when you felt your phone ring in your pocket. Fishing it out, your face lit up at the caller ID, and you picked up without waiting another second, pressing the cool glass to your ear with a smile. “Hi, George.”

“Hey!” he greeted with a cheerful tone. “Did you get here safely?”

Rocking back and forth on your heels, you curled your fingers a little tighter around the handle of your suitcase with a hum. “Yep.”

“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice, and it sent a familiar tingle of warmth bouncing down your spine. “How are you feeling?”

You paused, your steps faltering for a brief second as you pondered. “Nervous,” you said after a moment or two, “but a good kind of nervous.”

“A good kind of nervous?” he repeated with a fond tone. “I think I know the word you’re looking for.”

Your lips curled up at his words, your mind flashing back to a distant day from long, long ago. “Yes, George, I’m excited.”

The laugh that fell from his lips sounded like pure music to your ears, and you caught yourself thinking that you wouldn’t mind drowning in the sound. “Me, too.” As you wove between a few sectioned off groups, George added gently, “You know where to meet us, right?”

You nodded with a small noise of confirmation, making a sharp turn down yet another long hallway. “Yeah—I’m pretty sure Clay and Sap are already waiting for us.”

George snorted, both affectionate and teasing at once. “Oh, I know they are. I’ll see you there?”

You grinned, bobbing your head along to the beat of your suitcase wheels rolling across the polished tiled floors. “For sure. See you there!”

Lowering your phone from your ear, you pressed your thumb against the screen before letting it drop into your pocket once more. A sigh escaped your lips as you let the ache you had been suppressing tumble loose, throbbing and gnawing away at the shaky shards of your heart.

How long had they known that Clay and Sapnap were soulmates, now? Five months? Six? You weren’t sure if you could even bring yourself to keep count, anymore. It hurt too much to think about. You were happy for them, you really were. But the selfish part inside you still longed for their touch, even if they wouldn’t ever truly be yours. It wasn’t that you didn’t like George, but you meant what you said—you couldn’t pick just one, and you wanted all of them, as greedy as it was.

Shaking your head, you pushed forward, your gaze darting up to the navigational sign hanging from the ceiling. No matter how painful it may be, you weren’t going to let your own heart get in the way of how amazing today was going to be. You were meeting your favourite people in the world today, and nothing was going to take that away from you.

Not even heartbreak.

Glancing briefly over at a map on the wall, you huffed as you dragged your suitcase up a set of stairs and through the corridor, chewing on the inside of your lip. George’s gate was on the opposite side of the airport from yours, and Clay and Sapnap were waiting in the middle for the two of you. His flight had arrived a bit before yours, so you knew you were just going to have to find all three of them together.

After another few minutes of walking, you found yourself walking into the central dome of the airport, the glass ceiling filtering natural light into the room as you wheeled your luggage in. Your lips parting in awe at the sight, you swept your gaze across the busy room, scanning over every head you could find. You had only been looking for a few moments when a head of dark sepia hair caught your attention. Narrowing your eyes, you shuffled forward carefully. Then, your lips split into a triumphant grin.

There they were.

In a heartbeat, you felt your insides melt at the sight. Sapnap and George looked as handsome as ever, their lips curled up into dazzling smiles as they spoke, and Clay—oh, Clay. This was the first time you would ever be seeing each other’s faces, but you didn’t have to see him to know that he was pretty. With tousled golden locks and emerald green eyes that flashed like gemstones, he was everything you could have asked for and more.

Chatting casually with one another, all three of them were dressed in comfortable clothes, and you wanted to fling yourself at them and bury yourself into their warm touch. Sucking in a deep breath, you marched toward them, slinking around so that you were facing their backs. Hugs could come later—right now, it was time for a surprise.

Treading slowly and carefully, you only stopped when you stood a foot behind them, the giddiness rising in your chest as you finally opened your mouth.

“Sapnap was right. You are tall.”

The three of them immediately whirled at the sound of your voice, their eyes as wide as saucers as their gazes locked on yours. The grin on your face only grew wider as you watched their faces light up in unison, like a set of stars coming together in the night sky.

“[Y/N],” they said at the same time, blinking wildly as you sent them a small wave.

You laughed. “Here I a—”

“We were right, too,” Clay suddenly blurted, bending over slightly. “You are beautiful.”

Your cheeks flushed with bubbling heat, and you felt your heart leap in your chest. “I—ah, um,” you stammered, taking a step back. “You look good too, Clay.”

Sapnap took a step forward, reaching his hand out toward you with a soft smile. “So, we finally meet,” he hummed, a brilliant gleam flashing across his eye. “Does this mean I get to hug you, now?”

You grinned, and with a giggle, you were leaping forward, your suitcase wobbling behind you as you let go. The moment you felt warm arms wrap around your backside, you felt yourself relax.

Then, your skin suddenly felt like it was on fire.

Warmth surged up your spine like a rippling flame, your eyes shooting wide open as you gasped, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of Sapnap’s shirt. In an instant, you were stumbling back, clutching at the space over your heart. You could feel it going absolutely haywire in your chest, pounding like never before. Your entire body felt as light as a feather, and your mind felt strangely hazy.

Impossible—it had to be.

“Sap,” you choked out, your eyes locking onto his own wide ones, “you—”

“George, Clay,” he suddenly said, reaching a hand out toward the two boys, “get over here. Right now.”

The two of them had been standing stock still just a few steps away, their jaws dropped and faces contorted with surprise as they watched you and Sapnap tremble across from one another. Swallowing, George took the first shaky step forward, reaching his hand toward yours. The moment your fingers brushed, the same tingling warmth crashed over you like a wave, and you let out a soft noise, happiness blooming in your throat like a blossom in spring. You watched with earnest eyes as George’s expression mirrored yours, his rosy lips parted in surprise as his fingers latched onto yours. The hope you had locked away months ago came pouring out of your glowing heart like a waterfall, overwhelming every inch of your senses.

“It’s not just us,” you whispered, your voice brimming with nebulous hope. “It’s George, too.”

George lifted his head, his breath hitched as he turned. “That just means...”

All three of your gazes landed on Clay, who was still frozen in place, stock still with shock. Your eyes darted to Sapnap’s, then George’s. You nodded in unison, and without saying a word, you stepped forward. You slipped your hand into Sapnap’s, your heart trembling with adoration at how big and warm his palm was against your own. Sharing one last glance with one another, you nodded. Just like that, you were slipping your hand into Clay’s, George following suit while Sapnap grabbed his.

In a heartbeat, everything felt perfect.

The empty cracks in your heart no longer felt as wide as they once did, instead flooding with burning warmth and something that felt like love. Your head spun with dizzying affection, and you felt your vision grow watery, but for an entirely different reason, now.

God, you loved them, you loved them, you loved them.

At your side, Sapnap’s hand shook in yours, surprise lacing his every word. “I can’t believe it.”

“A four-way soulmate bond,” George breathed, his own mouth twitching up into a lovestruck grin. “I—I never thought we’d have one. I mean, I always hoped but—”

Suddenly, Clay spoke up, his voice hoarse but full of sincerity. “W-Woah, are you crying? What’s wrong?”

In a flash, their eyes were on you, who had let go of Clay’s hand to press your palm against your eye. “N-Nothing’s wrong,” you said, your voice shaking with overwhelming emotion. “I’m just—I’m so happy.” A quiet sniffle bubbled up in your throat, but it didn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips. “I liked you all so much and I was so scared that only George was going to be my soulmate, because you’re all so important to me, and I couldn’t just give you guys up like that.”

“[Y/N],” Clay choked out, his own voice starting to wobble, “stop, please. You’re going to make me cry.”

Laughing, you leaned against him, soaking into the warmth of his body as his arm instinctively wrapped around you. “Just—just cry with me, okay? We can all cry together.”

You didn’t need to say it twice. Not even a split second later, and you felt two more pairs of arms snake up around you, a nose burying itself into your hair as a cheek pressed against yours. “It looks like you won more than just one lottery then, huh?” Sapnap mumbled from above you, his chest rumbling against your back.

“Yeah,” George chuckled, his fingers lovingly rubbing small circles against your arm. “First the manhunt, now this. Just how lucky can one person be?”

You smiled, rubbing your head against Clay’s shoulder with a loving hum. “I don’t know what the universe was thinking,” you murmured, your eyelids fluttering shut as you gently rocked back and forth together, “but I’m glad I won. You three are the best prize I could have ever asked for.”

You felt a pair of lips press a soft kiss to the top of your head, your heart sighing in your chest. “I love you,” someone whispered, too softly for you to tell who it was.

All around you, the bustling airport kept moving, full of life and bursting with energy as the crowds flowed around you like a river. The world was still moving, the planet still turning beneath your feet as you embraced one another, warm and safe in each other’s arms. But in that moment, none of that mattered. A dazzling spark danced along the crevice of your heart, bright and warm and oh-so full of hope as you opened your mouth to whisper back.

“I love you all, too.”

2K notes · View notes

ragingbookdragon · 3 years ago

Text

Love Bites (But So Do I) PT. 2

Justice League x Reader One-shot

Word Count: 2.3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Aye, we're back with another Skyrim!Reader fic! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

It’d been close to a year since she’d joined the Justice League, and though the original members were a tightknit group, they’d welcomed her with open arms. Some of them were still wary about her, but for the most part, she was doing well within their ranks, especially when it came to being around Bruce or Hal. Given her longevity, she’d seen men like them before, known how to get along with them. Bruce she could meet on equal footing, Hal was simply a man that had to be shown who was in charge; it didn’t take much to make Hal crack under her authority, and in mere days, she had him wrapped around her fingers—Bruce too, but he’d never outright admit it to her face, or anyone else’s, even if a gun was put to his head.

She didn’t particularly fight much when they went on missions, preferring to be backup as well as their combat medic, a job she did well. She’d sewn up most of them without a blink of an eye, and while the first time she sewed Bruce’s wounds up, Clark and Diana stood beside to watch in case she tried to feed, they quickly learned, not only through her own comment but also his, that she wasn’t going to harm anyone.

Barry liked her. Or at least he enjoyed speaking with her. He found her ten thousand years of experience interesting, the history of her life, the survival of it. They’d spent hours talking about the past, hers and his from going back in time often. She enjoyed puzzling the poor scientist with magic. Barry wasn’t one to follow the whole “It’s magic” sermon; he wanted scientific evidence, hypothesis and experiments to prove how sparks, fire, and frost flowed from her fingertips like water. How natural it was for her as if it were like breathing.

She liked Barry. Liked to help him through personal issues. Her many years had given her experience in most subjects of life. Spurned lovers, betrayal of friends, death, life, all of it. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t help with, the League had come to find out. Sometimes, she even helped, and she didn’t even realize it.

***

It was one of the routine meetings for the month; she sat next between Diana and Hal, trying to focus on the words coming out of Bruce’s mouth but all she could hear was the quiet rumbling coming beneath them. What was she hearing? A broken pipe in the ceiling? Air hissing from a crack in a window, perhaps? No, it seemed to be coming from the table. But what was it? Nothing was shaking the foundation. What—

“(Y/N), is something wrong?”

She cocked her head up, realizing she’d pressed her face to the table in hopes she could listen closer to the noise; clearing her throat, she felt the eyes of the group on her. “Apologies,” she excused. “There’s…there is something I keep hearing under your voice. It’s…distracting.”

Her eyes found Clark’s. “Listen for a moment and see if you can hear it.”

They waited, everyone holding their breath, and when the rumbling came again, her eyes widened. “See! That! What is that!”

Clark held his hand up to say wait and she fell silent, letting him listen of for a few more moments, and then he cracked a smile and laughed.

“What? Why are you laughing?” she questioned. “What is it?”

“It’s Barry’s stomach,” he chuckled, nodding at the Speedster who suddenly flushed.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know you guys could hear it.” He laughed nervously. “It’s past my usual snack time so I’m really hungry.”

“I’ve got you,” Hal replied, digging in his bomber pocket to pull out a candy bar. “Snickers?”

“Ooo!” Barry chirped, taking it from him with a, “Thank you. I forgot to pack snacks when I left the house today.”

“Bar, one day, you’re gonna keel over from hunger because you forget. I swear, your memory is just as bad as your lateness.”

“God, don’t remind me,” Barry snickered.

(Y/N) hummed, eyes lingering on Barry for a moment before she turned to Bruce. “Sorry for the interruption. Please, continue.”

Bruce didn’t skip a beat, but she kept the thought of Barry in the back of her mind.

***

A couple hours later, the meeting had ended, and she caught up with Barry and Hal as they left. “Barry, a moment of your time, please? There’s something I wish to discuss with you.”

Hal waved the two off and continued to the Zeta tubes, leaving them and Barry smiled, “What’s up, (Y/N)?”

“How often do you eat?”

Hello left field with that question.

“I—what?”

“Consuming sustenance,” she reiterated. “How often do you do it?”

Barry shuffled on his feet, scratching at the back of his head. “Well…my metabolism burns through food like Hal does jet fuel.” He saw her cocked eyebrow and unimpressed look and immediately said, “I need to eat roughly 4.8 million calories a day.”

Her eyes went wide and for a moment she simply gaped at him, then she recovered and shook her head. “Divines, you eat a lot of food.”

“Yeah,” Barry chuckled. “Only downside of being a Speedster besides seeing the world in slow motion.”

“Forensic scientists make between forty and one-hundred-thousand a year. Is it possible for you to afford the nutrition you need to adequately feed yourself?”

Just like that, she hit a sore spot because Barry stilled, a remarkable feat, and his cheeks tinted red; she heard the stutter in his heart rate, noted the way he looked around uncomfortably. “I…Bruce…helps me sometimes.” He shifted nervously. “High calorie protein bars are the easiest to manufacture in massive quantities. I need them most nights.”

“So, you can’t afford the amount of food you need?” (Y/N) hummed, eyes narrowing as she brought her hand to her face, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “I’m going home for the evening,” she suddenly blurted out. “Come back here tomorrow around the same time. I’ll have something for you that will help with your food shortage.”

As she walked off, Barry grabbed her arm, pleading, “Wait, (Y/N), don’t. I can’t take money from you.”

“I never said anything about money,” she corrected, removing his arm. “I merely said for you to come back, and I’ll have something for you.” She winked. “Relax Barry. I’m not going to tell the world your secrets.”

***

He stood in the center of the area where he was supposed to meet (Y/N), had been standing there for an hour, but then again, she was only fifteen minutes late and he forty-five minutes early. Barry glanced at his watch when a buzzing started in his pocket; he pulled his phone out and saw her caller ID, lifting it to his ear. “Hello?”

Barry! Sorry for calling late. That thing I’m looking for is taking a bit longer than I expected it to. Do you think you could come to my home in Gotham? I’ve already called ahead and let Bruce know you’d be in city limits.

“Oh, yeah,” he answered. “I’ll be right there.”

Good! Travel safely!

It’d taken him all of ten seconds to get from the Watchtower to her house and Barry almost shit his pants when he saw it. It reminded him of Hagrid’s house but slightly wider and with multiple conjoined buildings to it. He walked up to the front door, hyping himself up to grab the brass doorknocker that resembled a demonic skull. When he knocked on the door, nothing happened, then the locks flipped and it opened, creaking on its hinges like a cheap eighty’s horror film, but it did the trick because Barry was scared out of his mind when all he saw was a darkened room lit up only by a candle holder on a table in the middle.

“I’m in the back!” a voice called from inside. “Fang is coming to greet you! He’s bringing Nevermore!”

Nevermore was the bird. He remembered that one, but who was Fang?

His question was answer by a giant mastiff came bounding from an opening to the hallway and Barry almost jumped a foot in the air; it looked terrifying, but he merely whined and shoved his head into Barry’s palm, waiting to be scratched behind his ears.

He relented, giving Fang a good ear-scratch, and smiled as Nevermore hopped up his arm to sit on his shoulder.

“Hungry!” he croaked. “Want snacks!”

Barry dug around in his pocket, finding a half-eaten granola bar. “Granola?” he offered, holding up a piece and Nevermore swiped it with a quick snap of his beak.

“Come in!”

“(Y/N), where are you?”

“In the back!” she called. “I told you that already!”

“I meant where!” Barry laughed, coming to the hallway. It split down two sides, one going to the right the other left. The right opened to what looked like a studio. The left went down and had two doors on the wall, what were bedrooms, and at the end of the hall was a study.

“Bedroom!” she answered, and Barry walked down the left, stopping at the second door that was creaked open.

He saw (Y/N) laying over her bed, digging for something on the opposite side away from him. “(Y/N)?”

“Come in,” she said, listening to him walk around to see her. “I forgot I shoved this underneath her a long time ago when I was cleaning things out.”

“How long is a long time ago?”

“Hmm…American Revolution? Give or take a decade or so?” she waved it off, pulling out what looked like an antique drawstring bag, about the size of a dinner plate; she held it up and patted the bed beside her with her free hand. “This is going to solve all your food problems,” (Y/N) announced, watching him sit down.

“Uh…how so?”

She placed it in his lap. “Think of your absolute favorite snack food. Chips or cookies or something.”

He did.

“Now…reach into the bag and pull it out.”

Barry’s brows furrowed as he reached in the bag, and she knew he’d found them because his eyes went wide, and he pulled out a snack pack of cookies. “What the—”

“Magic food purse,” (Y/N) explained. “Found it one day when I was exploring.” She took it back and reached into it, pulling out a thin tray of expertly wrapped sushi. “It’s really helpful when you’re traveling and can’t carry massive amounts of food around with you.”

Barry watched her pop one in her mouth; he knew damn well that sushi wasn’t in there when he reached inside. He swiped the bag from her and opened it, peering inside, but all he saw was a dark, stretching expanse. “That’s not possible,” he breathed. “There’s nothing in here.”

“It’s magic,” (Y/N) snorted, reaching in to pull out a frosted chocolate cupcake. “Anything you can imagine eating or drinking? It will come out.”

“That’s not scientifically possible!” Barry stressed, trying to shove his head into the bag. There had to be some gimmick to it. A transporter! Something!

“Why is it so hard for you to accept that some things in this universe can’t be explained by science?” she stared at him. “For Divines’ sake, Barry, your best friend is a man who wields a magic ring. You run faster than the speed of light.”

“There’s science behind some of that!”

“Not much.”

“But there is science! Here—there’s nothing!” Barry was having a crisis. “I don’t know how this works. I don’t understand.”

(Y/N) smiled and folded the bag up, gently stowing it in Barry’s jacket pocket. “It’s not about understanding, Barry, it’s about accepting that there are some things you won’t ever understand.” Her eyes crinkled at the edges. “That bag will never run out of magic. You can think all the food and drinks into existence and never run out of food again.”

She reached up and cupped his cheek. “No more high calorie meal bars unless you have to eat them. No more worrying about putting money aside to make sure you have enough to eat. No more relying on others to keep yourself from going hungry.” (Y/N) whispered comfortingly, “No more fear. No more worries.”

Barry felt the lump rise in his throat. He’d never admitted it, not even to Hal, but he worried constantly about keeping fed. Worried that money wouldn’t come in, that he’d go hungry, that something worse would happen. All the nights he’d laid in bed and had to roll over on an empty stomach because he couldn’t afford to buy more or eat what he’d planned for tomorrow then. All the skipping meals, all the exhaustion, all the worry. Gone in moments.

He felt her thumb under his eye, and he looked into her umber ones, seeing her smile softly as she wiped away another tear. She didn’t say anything, merely gazing at him and Barry leaned into her palm, reaching up to cup her hand closer to his cheek. “Thank you,” he managed through the lump in his throat. “I don’t know how to repay you for—”

“Shhh,” (Y/N) hushed, pressing her thumb to his lips. “There’s nothing to repay anyone for. I did this for you, Barry, not so you’d owe me.” She pulled away from him and rose from the bed, looking back. “Now, if you’d like a moment to yourself, I understand. But I was planning on making dinner. Would you like to stay the night?”

“You don’t mind?” Barry asked. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

She glanced over her shoulder with a wink, flashing those pretty white fangs in a smile as she flirted, “Stay all you want, Barry. I won’t bite…yet.” She left Barry in the room, heart pounding in his chest, but not from fear—from excitement and anticipation.

190 notes · View notes

wond-las · 3 years ago

Note

#20 + #35 for the writing prompts please 🥺

Ok, I know you sent this in like a month ago, but better late than never I guess.

20. bandaging/stitching up an injury + 35. kissing their bruises and scars

______________________________________________________________

"All right, this is gonna hurt like a bitch."

"Motherfucker!" spilled from Gar's lips before he could stop it. He always managed to forget how bad getting a dislocated arm back into place hurt.

He sat shirtless on an examination table in the Tower's med bay. The team had a messy fight with some newbie villain that none of them bothered to catch the name of. The issue with the new guys was that they were always overcompensating for their novice with big shiny weapons or new powers they barely knew how to use. Luckily, this guy was terribly incompetent and nobody was hurt to bad. Well, everyone but Beast Boy, who was thrown into a lamppost. Twice. He also ended up getting hit by a car originally meant for Raven. Lightly, he made sure to tell his teammates as he was carried bridal style by his cybernetic enhanced best friend.

"Alright, that's pretty it on my part," Vic surmised as he took a step back and examined his green friend one last time. "You got it from here Raven?"

She was leaning against the wall with a steely look on her face. Someone who didn't know her well would mistake it for her typical neutral expression. However Gar knew the look all too well. She was pissed.

"Yep," was Raven's only reply. She kept her eyes trained on Gar.

Vic looked between the two for a moment, "Well seeing as how you could cut the tension in here with a butter knife, I'm out". He also threw Gar a "Good luck buddy" on his way out.

When the door shut Raven slowly made her way to the examination table her teammate sat on. He began to fidget when she stopped in front of him, her eyes still on his face.

"Look," he started "I know this lecture you're about to give me like the back of my hand. So can we please just skip it for once so we can go to bed and cuddle as soon as possible?"

Raven didn't look impressed. "You were foolish and reckless."

"I'm guessing that's a no then."

"You don't need to save me, you know. I am capable of handling myself," she went on all while beginning to heal a rather serious looking bruise on his shoulder.

"Hey, I would have done it for any other team mate."

"But I'm not any other teammate. I get that we're together And that you feel the need to protect me, but I am fully capable of dodging a projectile," she moved her hands to a bruise along his ribs.

This caused his face to twist in disbelief. "Raven, it was a car. A car that you almost didn't see coming!"

"Ok, sure I didn’t. But if I was hit I would be healing myself rather than patching you up. Cutting out the middleman and all that," her jaw was twitching, a sign Gar knew meant she was more upset than she was letting on.

They sat together in silence for a while, a feeling of guilt creeping up on Gar. He knew how draining healing herself was for Raven and that healing others was about twice the work. "You know you don't have to do this," he stated.

Raven's hands froze in place above his newly mended collar bone, and finally her carefully constructed facade fell away. She looked him in the eye for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. "I didn't mean it like that," she said it softly, as if saying it any louder would scare the man in front of her away. She brought her hands up to hold his face. "It's just that. I don't know. You worry me. And seeing you like this… all bruised and bloody and… it just scares me. More than I would like to admit."

She went on, "And I know you want to keep me safe but…" she closed her eyes and sighed. "There are some things you can't protect me from. And I just don't want you getting yourself killed for my sake."

Gar looked at the woman in front of him. This force of nature of a woman capable of terrors he couldn't begin to imagine was so small and vulnerable with him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “I love you, you know that?” he breathed into her shoulder.

Raven pulled back a bit with a small smile playing at her lips. “Sap,” she mumbled before kissing a small bruise above his brow. “I love you too.”

They held each other in the quiet of the med bay for quite some time. Gar knew that as long as they cared about each other they would continue to have this argument. He knew she would lecture him and he would yell in return. But he also knew he loved her, and he hoped that that would be enough.

______________________________________________________________

prompts from this list

#this ended up being a lot less fluffy than i intended #i've read it over a few times and it might suck #oh well #bbrae #beast boy #raven #my wrtitng

76 notes · View notes

hxt1b · 4 years ago

Text

Why Can’t We? - Extended

Masterlist

Jaehyun x Reader

WC: 4.2k

Genre: Angst (YouTuber Reader x Idol Jaehyun)

Warning: Smut and Swearing

Original Post: Why Can’t We?

A/N: Hey thank you so much for the love on the original little blurb I wrote. I decided to write an extended version of it for you guys. I hope you like it! If you haven’t read the original I’ve linked it. This is sort of a part two but you could read this without reading the blurb as well hence why I don’t think it fits to call it a part two. Again the grammar may be iffy, I tried my best but things probably still slipped through, regardless I hope you guys like this. Let me know your thoughts. And if anyone wants to send me any requests you can go do that here. I appreciate them and will get to them as soon as I can!

You were slumped over your desk, staring at the work you had in front of you. Your business partner/ best friend was expecting this to be done by the end of the night. The video needed to be out by eight pm. It was already seven, you couldn’t focus though and you knew that if you called her and just explained to her that you fucked up. That you did the one thing you shouldn’t have. That you slept with Jaehyun. She’d help you. But you couldn’t process the fact yourself, you couldn’t process the emotions that were still running through you. You couldn’t believe that you ran. Yet you knew there was no other option. You knew how you felt about him, and Jaehyun never made any move to hide his feelings. Not from you.

But it wouldn’t work and you knew that, you were so wrapped up in your YouTube channel and all the other opportunities that were coming your way, and he was… well he was Jung Jaehyun. You couldn’t see yourself by his side. Not with how much you’d have to hide it, not with all his fans. They’d find out, your whole life was on the internet, his was too. It wouldn’t work, it would only lead to more heartbreak. Heartbreak at a greater scale one that you could not take.

You held yourself back as much as you could but last night you couldn’t. Not with the way he looked at you, his eyes showing every emotion he had inside him, not with the way his mouth felt against yours, the way his hands moved against your skin. You could still feel his breath on your skin.

A shiver ran down your spine and you were brought back to the computer in front of you. A video of you and your best friend staring back at you. You’d only edited the first four minutes, there was two hours' worth of footage waiting for you.

Sighing you grabbed your phone, biting your lip you kept yourself from looking at the missed calls you had from him and messages he had sent you. You ignored the burning in you to open them, to reply, to call him back. Instead, you called your friend.

Her happy voice coming through after the first ring.

“Hey, dude what’s up?”

“So listen, I uh I’m gonna need another hour to edit that video it’ll be a little late is that okay?” You said, your voice slightly shaking.

“Yeah yeah, that's fine.” Her voice fell to a concerned tone, “Is everything okay?”

“Sorry, yeah I just haven’t been having the best day ya know.” You ran your finger along the side of your desk as you spoke to her. Your mind wandering back to Jaehyun.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She asked.

“No there’s nothing to talk about just one of those slow and tiring days.” You lied. She hummed on the other side of the line dropping the topic.

“Take your time with the video’s its fine if it goes up late we can put it up tomorrow too. Just send out a tweet.” You nodded even though she couldn’t see you.

“Okay, I’ll do that. Thank you.”

Hanging up you opened your Twitter app. Quickly typing out the tweet. You scrolled through your feed as your tweet blew up, you weren’t huge on YouTube but you had a decent amount of subscribers that your posting schedule mattered.

Minutes ticked by as you liked and replied to some tweets that came your way. But scrolling came to be a mistake. A thread about Jaehyun appeared on your feed and you couldn’t help but open it, your heart aching as the thread appreciated Jaehyun dimples. You loved his dimples as much as anyone else. The difference was that you had a front seat to him. You’d poked your finger into those dimples so many times over the span of time that you and Jaehyun had known each other.

Quickly closing the app you came face to face again with all the notifications regarding him. Blinking as your eyes stung you bit your lip again. There was only one option in your head again, you couldn’t handle the ache that your heart felt right now imagine if it was on a grander scale. You had to stop this now.

Opening his contact information on your phone you blocked his number, and on Instagram and every other platform he could contact you. Your vision blurred and your headached as you put your phone back down on your desk.

You couldn’t edit the video today anyway. Getting up from your desk chair you made your way to your bed and buried yourself under your blankets as a few tears slipped down your cheek.

Two weeks passed and Jaehyun was a mess, his head was somewhere else constantly, he couldn’t focus on his work. He couldn’t think straight. He just moved from day to day as he became more and more numb. He’d called you, texted you but you hadn’t returned anything. Short of going to your apartment, he’d done everything he could, and that was something he wasn’t going to do. Not after you blocked him.

He dropped his head into the palms of his hands, the bitter pain of the action hitting him again. You’d actually blocked him. The tears gathered in the corners of his eyes again but he blinked them away. But it all hurt, everything hurt. His head hurt from the anger he felt towards you, yet his heart ached for you. The fight in him tired him out daily. The other boys were noticing, Johnny had tried to talk to him about it but Jaehyun didn’t know what to say.

She fucked me and left, oh and while she left she ripped my heart out and stomped on it because there is no way she doesn’t know that I love her.

Jaehyun knew you were cautious, he could sense your fear. But when you slept together that day he’d hoped you’d forget it, that you’d understand that it could work. That with you he’d make it work. He’d hoped that you’d see it. But clearly, you hadn’t.

You hadn’t even given it a chance.

You saw him everywhere all of sudden. You blocked him but you still saw him everywhere. It had been a month since you’d last seen him and noting was easier. You’d lied to yourself then and you would lie to yourself now. Because this was for the best.

You sighed again as another clip of Jaehyun popped up in your Instagram feed. They’d just had another comeback and it was shaping into your biggest nightmare very fast. Scrolling again you came across a clip from a recent interview. He was smiling and laughing with Jungwoo. His dimples showing up as he threw his head back and laughed at something Jungwoo had said to him. Another sigh slipped out your lips as you scrolled again.

“Oh, my fuck. I swear Y/N if you fucking sigh again I’ll knock you out into next week.” Your best friend was staring at you from where she stood setting up the camera for today's shoot.

“What is even wrong with you. For the past month, you’ve been sad and angry and you constantly don’t want to talk about it and I respected that but today I’ve had enough.” Her hands had moved to her hips as she glared down at you.

Looking away from her you ran your tongue over your drying lips.

“Talk to me Y/N.” She demanded and before you knew it everything spilled out. From the day you met Jaehyun nine months ago, to all the flirting. You told her about all the dates you’d gone on, you even told her how you insisted on calling them friend dates. Watched movies in his room, kicking Jungwoo out so that it would be just the two of you. Making cakes in his kitchen and doing the most cliche things while making them. You told her all of it, how you slept with him and blocked him because you were scared. Obviously, she knew of Jaehyun she’d even met him on many occasions but she didn’t know the details, because for some reason your brain had told you that if your best friend knew them. That if you spoke of the events that the feelings would become real, that it would all become real.

“You're scared?” She questioned her face contorting into an expression bordering on disgust. “Scared. You?” She was sitting beside you a scowl embedded into her face.

“Dude, we don’t scare. We meet shit head-on. Our channel is thriving because we didn’t give in to the fear that we would fail. We got where we are with that practice. We don’t fear shit. Especially not the complicated shit because we always make it work we always try.”

She didn’t even blink as she spoke, you knew she was right, but it was easier said than done wasn’t it? But she was right you didn’t fear failure with your work and it paid off and you loved it.

“But it’s so much more complicated now. I don’t think I can fix this.”

“You have to try. Because I can’t stand this behaviour anymore. Fix it, babe, at least try and if it doesn’t work I’ll be here and we’ll move past it.” You nodded as she spoke. Glad that she was your best friend.

“So I should go talk to him? Apologize? Tell him what was going on in my head?”

“Yeah, dude just talk to him.” She looked at you expectantly as she got up and went back to fixing the camera angle.

“Okay can you set up the mic’s now, you can talk to him after we film. Now help me.”

Three hours later you were dragging your feet towards his dorm. You’d planned out what to say and how to say it, after you filmed, in your mirror. Your best friend giving you the thumbs up when you left.

Looking up as you neared the dorm, the air left your lungs. There he was walking towards you, smiling down at a beautiful girl. He looked happy. You watched them as they walked slowly talking about god knows what, your hands fisted at your side as she laughed at something he said. Your insides turned and you felt like you were gonna puke. But you had no right. You were the one who left, you uncurled your hand as your eyes began to sting.

What did you think was going to happen? That you’d leave him and he’d sit around waiting for you. That when you walked into his dorm today he’d take you back with open arms like you hadn’t left his bed and then blocked him on everything. You shook your head blinking back the tears.

You bit your lip and looked away from them. There was no way back into his life and it was clear and it was your fault., but you had to look at him again. Just one last time. Just to see that smile, those dimples one last time in person even if you weren’t the one he was smiling at.

Turning your head back to him your entire body froze. He was already looking at you. Stopped a few feet back from the entrance of the dorm. The girl digging around her bag for something. Your heart thumped in your chest, your blood flowing fast, the rush of it the only sound in your ears.

Your eyes stung again, you couldn’t cry. Not here. Turning away from him you walked away quickly. You needed to get away fast, he shouldn’t have seen you. You felt selfish that you’d stood there that long, that you’d tried to steal that last glance. You should have walked away sooner. The tears slipped down your cheeks, leaving cold wet trails in their wake.

A hand grabbed your wrist, whipping you around. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t. His hand tightened around your wrist.

“So you’re gonna run away again?” You didn’t say anything back. What would you even say because the truth was yes. Yes, you were. He scoffed and dropped your hand, taking a step away from you.

“You're with a girl, you’re happy I don’t want to intrude.” You still weren’t looking at him, keeping your eyes trained on the ground to your left.

“Look at me.” He said his voice even. You refused.

“Look at me!” His tone was harsher, slowly you turned your head to him your eyes taking in his face, from far he had looked like the perfect Jaehyun you always saw, but up close you could see the slight darkness under his eyes, the paleness of his skin, the sadness in his eyes as yours finally locked onto them. “Do I look happy to you? That girl is my cousin.” You stayed silent not knowing what to say.

He let out a humourless laugh, “You don’t have anything to say. Why am I shocked?” He ran his hand through his hair and took a step towards you.

“Fine then let me talk. Let me tell you about how you fucked me up, how for the past month I’ve been trying to figure out what I did wrong to have you block me, to have you kick me out of your life so easily. What did I do that was so wrong.” His voice broke on the last word as tears began to trail down his face. You were frozen in your spot, your hands shaking at your side.

Everything that you’d wanted to say, everything you’d thought to say out your head. You watched as he broke down in front of you, your heartbreaking with each tear that ran down his cheek. Slowly you raised your hand taking a step closer to him, you hesitated only for a second before pulling him to you.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong. I'm the one that fucked up. I'm the one that ran away, and I’m the one that is so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything Jaehyun.” His arms wrapped around your body pulling you into him, his hands fisting at the back fabric of your coat.

“I was scared, scared about everything. Scared that it would all only hurt us more in the end. I was trying to make it easier.” This time your voice cracked as you began to cry. His arms tightened around you.

“I'm so sorry, I’m so stupid. I ran away and I’m so sorry.” It was hard for you to talk through your tears. You tried to calm down by taking in breaths of air. You needed to stop crying. “Please forgive me.”

You looked up at him, his eyes were red from his tears that had stopped. His eyes softened as they took in your face. He didn’t say anything to you just moved his face to yours, softly pressing his lips against yours.

“Let me make it up to you.” You said pulling away from his lips.

You pulled him into your apartment, taking your coat off and throwing it onto your couch. Prompting him to do the same. You grabbed his hand once his coat was off and pulled him into your bedroom. Your mouth returning to his as soon as you closed the door. The kiss was slow and soft, both of you taking each other in. Pulling away from him you looked at his face, his brown eyes dark you were sure you reflected the same desire back to him that you saw. Pressing your lips back to his you let your hands trail down his chest as his stayed planted on your waist. Weaving your hand under his shirt you raked your cold fingers ups his abs earning a shiver from him. You smiled pulling away from him and pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it aside.

Your breath hitched as you took in the sight of his bare torso, pressing yourself back to him you pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his jaw, softly sinking your teeth into the same spot before sucking the skin into your mouth. Jaehyun moaned, his hands moving up the back of your t-shirt pulling you against him. You could feel his member hard and pressed against you in-between the both of you.

Licking the spot to soothe the sting you pressed a kiss to the slowly darkening mark, before moving further down. You kissed down his chest, softly pressing your lips against his hot skin. You marvelled in the way his breathing became shallow as you moved onto your knees. Hooking your fingers into the buttons of his jeans you undid them pulled them down along with his boxers. You pushed him back towards your bed letting him step out the articles of clothing and sit down as you slowly wrapped your hand around his throbbing cock. He was already so hard. You looked up at him as you slowly moved your hand down before licking the tip, wiping away the moisture that had gathered there.

He groaned at your action, his eyes locked with yours as you made your way down his dick kissing down the underside towards his balls before sticking your tongue out and licking back up to his tip. His cock twitched in your hand as you wrapped your lips around his head. One of his hands twisted into the back of your hair softly grabbing your locks.

Jaehyun’s head fell back as you moved him further into your mouth, you went slow letting yourself feel each vein with your tongue as you fit him into your mouth. Soft moans spilled from him, flowing towards you as you begin to move him in and out of your mouth, using your hand to massage the rest of him that you couldn’t fit into your mouth.

A soft growl fell from his lips as he pulled you off him.

“You can finish that some other time.” He said, yanking you up into his lap you straddled him, as he kissed you roughly his tongue entering your mouth and quickly meeting yours. You moaned into him as his hands moved under your shirt one hand unclasping your bra.

“Fuck.” he cursed pulling away from you before pulling your shirt off and throwing it across the room. He tangled his hand in the hair at the back of your head again pulling you towards him to press his mouth to yours as you let your bra fall off and tossed it onto the ground. The thumb of his other hand drawing circles at your hip.

He stood up taking you with him, not breaking the kiss as he did. You groaned as his dick pressed against your clothed core, causing heat to rush through you. He tossed you onto the bed before quickly following you.

“I’m so fucked.” He said before pressing his lips into your neck, sucking the skin as you had done before on him. You moaned letting your hand fly to the back of his head as he moved down towards your chest, leaving open-mouthed kissed until he got your breast.

He lifted his head from you and stared at you, his eyes almost black with lust. Your breathing was laboured as he smirked at you before returning his mouth to your nipple. He harshly sucked it into his mouth pulling it up between his teeth. You let out a breathy moan, his name flowing out of your mouth, as your chest arched off the bed following his mouth. He laughed before letting your nipple pop out of his mouth and pushed up you back into the mattress before kissing over to your other breast copying his action before moving his kisses down your stomach.

You writhed under him as his mouth got closer to where you wanted him. Hooking his fingers into your legging he pulled them down leaving you in only your panties. He looked up at you before looking back down at your covered core. Your cheeks reddened as he smiled.

“Your so wet baby, you soaked through your panties.” His voice was thick with lust, his face showing on full display his desire for you.

“For you,” you panted back, as he pressed a finger to you over your panties.

“For me.” He whispered to himself before pulling your underwear down. He hovered his face over your clit, you could feel his breath teasing you. Bucking your hips towards him wanting him to do something already. You snaked your hand down to his hair.

“Please.” You whined pushing yourself up towards him again. He chuckled, taking your hand from his hair. He held it at your stomach pushing you down back to the bed before he ran his tongue up your slit. Your eyes closed shut as your loud moans filled the room. He repeated the action before taking your clit into his mouth sucking on the swollen nub.

“Jaehyun.” You whined moving your other hand to his hair only for him to grab it and hold it down next to your other one. You whined trying to move your hips but being unable to as he held you down. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him now.

“Baby please, you can finish that some other time.” You said stealing his words from earlier. “I need you.” He pulled back from you, his mouth covered in you. He let go of your hands letting you loop them around his neck as you pulled him back up to you. Immediately pressing your lips against his in a heated kiss, you tasted yourself on his tongue.

A deep moan fell from your lips as he slipped his cock between your folds slowly moving so that the tip was hitting your clit. His hand wrapped around your head weaving into the hair at the top as the other one knotted into the sheets next to your head.

He pressed his forehead against yours closing his eyes as he continued to repeat his action savouring the breathy moans that fell from your open mouth.

“Please.” You whined when you had as much as you could take, “I need you. Please.” You begged.

His breathing mirrored your own, harsh shared breaths as he lined himself up at your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. Your eyes fell shut at the stretch, you clenched around him as he took his time sliding into you taking in the feeling of your tight walls around him.

“Fuck,” He muttered against your mouth followed by a soft moan as he bottomed out. You both breathed heavily as he stayed still, agonizing seconds passed before he pulled back again before spanning his hips back to you. Your head twisted to the side as he picked up his pace. He bit into the soft skin of your jaw as he moved in and out of you.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room along with your moans, overwhelming your mind as he fucked you into a daze. You drowned in your head with every snap of his hips, you could feel him hitting your g-spot with each thrust pushing you closer you climax.

Sweat dotted his forehead as his thrusts sped up, throwing you off the edge into the depths. Your back arched off the bed, your chest pressing against his as he took your lips up with his swiping his tongue against yours mirroring the action of his hips as he thrust into you harsher chasing after his release. You moaned his name but it sounded far off to your ears as you shook underneath him. Your walls clenching around his cock, finally his dick twitched and he came spilling himself into you. A loud moan leaving him followed by heavy breathing as he looked down at you. He let his head fall into the crook of your neck as you both came down from your highs.

“I’m so fucked,” He whispered to you. “Don’t run away from me again Y/N. I won’t be able to take it again.” He said and pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere Jaehyun.” You said stroking his back with your hand.

“Good because, Y/N, I really like you.” You turned your head to him, his eyes meeting yours as you did. You could see the emotion in his eyes, you could see the truth behind his words, the real words he’d wanted to say.

“I really like you too, Jaehyun.” You said, also keeping the grander emotion with you. For now. You had plenty of time to say it to him. To hear it from him, because you weren’t going anywhere, but the three words rattled around your brain, your heart your entire being as you looked at him before pressing your lips against his.

I love you.

493 notes · View notes

zvnphoria · 4 years ago

Text

- how being koko’s best friend would be like

a/n - had too much fun with this. THIS IS VERY LONG UM. this is an apology for being inactive.

contains - fluff, teeny bit of angst, just platonic because YEAH, fem!reader, implied strong reader, reader has mommy issues (definitely not projecting), reader had a friendship with akane and looked up to her like an older sister

you and hajime go way back since you were kids. you two met in an interesting way but not necessarily in a good one.

you were walking to the nearest park to get out of your crazy house because your mom kept screaming at you over the littlest thing again. you forgot to wash the dishes (you didn’t necessarily forget that’s for sure). you stopped once you saw a boy around your age getting beaten up by some older kids. his hand gripped tightly on what looked like a school bag and protected it like his life depended on it.

it didn’t matter anymore because you had just knocked out both of the bullies in no time without a thought— almost as if it was normal to you. when you looked at the boy, he had blood going down from his forehead to his cheek, heavily panting and on the verge of passing out. he’s not the fighting type, huh. luckily you had a towel wrapped around your neck since you had just gotten out of the shower when you walked out your house, you weren’t gonna spend much time at the park anyways

you kneeled down and wiped the dripping blood off his face and noticed a bigger figure running towards you both. it was.. a girl?

“hajime-kun! what happened here?!” she panicked as she checked your surroundings

“akane-san.. it’s no big deal i promise..”

“no big deal?! i knew something was up when you rushed the other way. and my bag also happened to be missing! why didn’t you ask for help? you don’t need to be independent all the time.”

“and you,” she began, making eye contact with you

“are you okay? are you hurt?”

“no no! i’m fine don’t worry.”

“she was actually the one who knocked them out, akane-san,”

the older girl looked at the unconscious bullies, then back at you with shock and amazement in her eyes

“you did this? that’s amazing!” she says as she quickly takes your hands and wraps it around hers

“uh.. yes i promise it’s really not a big deal. i’ve dealt through worse, trust me,” you say as you gaze at the direction of your house

“worse or not this is still definitely something! even i cant beat someone up, and i’m way older than you!” she chuckled

“well it’s not like you have the heart to do something like that, akane-san,” the boy comments

“hahah you’re right, you’re right. anyways we should get going now— the sun is gonna set very soon, and you should get home as well. is your house nearby? we can walk you if you’d like,”

even ‘til this day you still don’t know why you didn’t decline her offer. was it because she was nice? it didn’t matter anymore, because if you had declined, you wouldn’t get to meet such amazing people.

it’s been a few months after meeting hajime and akane, and you had also met akane’s younger brother who was your age— seishu! you four would often hang out, whether it was at the inui home or at hajime’s house. getting to know them was pretty fun, and very interesting because a certain someone had a crush on akane.

it was definitely not seishu because they’re siblings and that’s just weird, definitely not you because akane had reminded you of your older sister who was almost never in your life, so that only left one choice— hajime.

his crush on her was so painfully obvious that you couldn’t stand seeing him try to impress her every now and then. he even ditched his glasses and bought contacts just for her to compliment him! he’s whipped huh..

one day you decided to help him out a little with his crush. it was another day of your usual hang outs except this time it was at your local mall! akane’s birthday was coming up and you three had collectively agreed to take her to the mall and see if she would see anything she’d like. turns out she was eyeing some platforms with red on the bottoms, and you took notice.

seishu dragged her to go to the food court with him because he was “hungry” so you and hajime took the chance to buy the heels. you were both now at the cash register, waiting for the register person

“i don’t understand you,” you began

“i don’t understand why you like her so much. i mean— i get that’s she’s amazing and nice and pretty and all but.. there’s another reason why you like her. something must’ve happened for you to be so attached to her so what is it?” you meant no harm with this question whatsoever. you were simply curious and that’s all.

before he answered, he smiled to himself and looked back at you

“she’s the only one that makes me feel not under pressure all the time. she’s the one who constantly reminds me that i shouldn’t be so independent and that i should always ask for help.” as you took a breath in to reply, he stopped you

“before you say anything, i know. i know she doesn’t like me. i know she’s just being nice. but there’s nothing wrong with a one-sided crush right?” he grins

even though he was beaming with a smile in front of you, you knew. you knew this wasn’t how he truly felt. you knew that deep down he was hurt but it was understandable. after all, he was just a kid wasn’t he? you saw right through him.

it was a shame after what happened the next couple of weeks after that conversation. it all happened so fast and none of you were prepared for it. you weren’t prepared for the incident that had happened to akane. a few days before it occurred, koko proudly told you that he was planning to confess and you were way against it.

“huh?! but i need to get this off my chest, y/n! i don’t care if she rejects me or not!”

“haji, i have a bad feeling about this.. i’m serious. you know how i always get bad feelings and they turn out to be true!”

he groaned and scooted far from where he was originally sitting which was right next to you. you sigh and got up to sit down next to him and laid your head on his shoulder so he wouldn’t escape

“i just don’t want you to get your hopes up, that’s all.” deep down you knew the truth. akane wasn’t interested in boys one bit despite all the confessions she had received almost every week.

“fine. you have a point. but im still going with this,”

all you could do was do nothing but let him. oh how you wished you protested more, because in return all he got was a huge burden on his shoulders.

“please ma’am, just please tell me what room akane inui and seishu inui are in,” you shouted as tears were rolling down on your cheeks. “107, right down the hall and take a left ‘hon”

you bowed and quickly made your way into the room. as you burst the door open, your eyes immediately go on seishu who looked so sad to the point where he didn’t even bother to look up at you. you hug him with a feeling of relief flowing in your body, but soon that feeling was gone when you asked where akane was.

you stood outside the door, not knowing why your feet couldn’t move. what’s wrong, y/n? her voice rang your ears. go on, don’t worry i’ll be right here next to you and if you get scared, just hold my hand! right. that was the time you were at a “haunted” house together and you were scared to go in. why are you being reminded of this right now?

you gulped and slowly opened the doorknob and found a crying boy in front of you, hands grabbing on the sheets with his head on the edge of the bed. you couldn’t do anything. all you could do was sit next to him with your head resting on his shoulder while you were crying.

a few years after that, you both acted as if nothing had happened. not because you wanted to forget akane, but because you knew akane would’ve wanted you both to continue living on without her.

despite not dating, you two would always have couple tendencies like feeding food to eachother or hugging often but you’re just THAT close to the point you can probably kiss without feeling any romantic attraction whatsoever

you couldn’t hang out with him as much anymore because of all the gang related things he’s doing. to make it up to you, he knocks on your window late at night and sleeps over most of the time. you talk to him about the usual— have you been eating? you should get more rest. and so on.

you were the one who got him to start wearing eyeliner! at first he just looked at you with a confused face when you handed him it as his present, but then you explained that if he wants to go fully dedicated to the black dragons, the wings of the eyeliner would represent the wings of the dragon. he didn’t wear it at first, all he did was ruffle your hair and said he’d think about it— and he kept his word! so now he’s the iconic money-making genius that wears eyeliner.

after all that’s happened between you two, there isn’t a single awkward moment you share. you know those friends who bring up an adult related topic out of completely nowhere? you two were those friends.

“i was walking by an alley and i heard a girl getting fucked,” he says while chewing the piece of gum you handed to him

“..and??”

“i’ve never walked away so fast in my life.”

there are days where you’re sad but, of course, you don’t tell him. in fact you don’t need to tell him because he’ll know when you’re upset.

“so are ya gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he says as he rests his head on your thighs

“ugh how do you always know..”

“because we’ve been together for the longest, duh.”

he doesn’t show it much, but he cares for you more than you think he does. overprotective and can’t help but show it at times, but don’t worry! he’s doing it because he loves you. remembers the littlest things you talk about and are interested in. he’s also constantly on the lookout so that you don’t get hurt or even worse.

when he’s the one who’s upset, you immediately know. he’s quieter than usual, zoning out a lot and just not paying attention to what you’re saying to him, almost like he’s in his own little world. before you initiate a conversation, you play with his hair so he’ll feel comfortable as a way for you to convince him to tell you what’s wrong.

even though it happened such a long time ago, he still thinks about her. you cant blame him, you do too! if you were to describe your best friend with one sentence, the first thing that would pop up in your head was weak little boy. not weak as in physically weak, but weak as in mentally weak. he can’t help but get emotional when it comes to her, which is understandable.

“it’s not your fault, hajime. she left you with no proper closure, and now you’re carrying guilt and burden on your shoulders. anyone would feel the same or even worse in your position.”

he didn’t respond but he doesn’t need to. all that matters to him is that you’re next to him, comforting him with your kind words like you always do. you both have some differences which caused a few arguments, but in the end you would still be best friends.

speaking of arguments, you argue either over the dumbest things ever or over serious topics. one time you got mad at him because he was beating you in a video game and his smug expression was not helping at all. you kicked him out of your house because you were just THAT frustrated. you felt guilty so you decided to walk to his house and apologize but stopped once you saw a certain figure trying to climb up to your window.

in the start of the serious argument, it was completely something different than what you were yelling at each other about now.

he showed up at your house with your favorite boba and snacks. you demanded him to put those down.

“hajime. food— no. MONEY cant keep me happy forever, and that also applies to you!”

“then what else am i supposed to do?!” his voice started getting weak. he was never the type to argue because he’d always get emotional.

“what am i other than a money-making genius? other than a wallet?”

“i cant do anything about my situation, y/n. nothing. because that’s all i am. just a stupid wallet for everyone to use.” he says about to walk away until you grab his sleeve to stop him.

“that’s not even true. you’re so much more than that, hajime. i’m sorry.. i’m so sorry.” you were crying into his chest and he couldn’t help but cry with you.

he spoils you 100%, no doubt. there was a point in life where you would always decline but you had just gotten so used to the offer that you got tired of fighting back. i mean, how could you? he was so willing and eager and most importantly HAPPY to do this for you.

hajime cant drive motorcycles and you constantly tease him about it, which he just responds to you by squeezing your cheeks together so you could shut up. the bad thing about this is that you guys always have to walk or go on a bus to the specific place you’re going to which is pretty tiring at times. although that doesn’t matter because what matters is that you both have each other.

back to the overprotective part.. you got called by this boy to meet him at the rooftop by the end of school and you already knew what was about to go down because of your shoujo manga reading sessions. the first thing you did was call hajime and he immediately got there to warn you about what you were gonna get yourself into.

“don’t you already have someone you like??”

“uh.. no?”

“i couldve sworn you liked that ‘tora dude..”

“keep your mouth shut!”

“…so you’re gonna reject him right?”

and you did! nicely, of course. hajime advised you should make come off as mean so he wouldn’t bother you again but you just ignored him and pretended like you didn’t hear anything.

being his best friend contains some ups and downs, but that’s the point of true friendships— it’ll never be perfect.

#tokyo revengers x reader #hajime kokonoi #kokonoi headcanons #kokonoi fluff #kokonoi x reader

222 notes · View notes

felassan · 4 years ago

Text

Some DA trivia and dev commentary from Twitter

There’s a lot of different tweets, so I’m just pasting and linking to the source rather than screencapping them all or making several different posts or something. Post under cut for length.

User: Was dragon age 2 your favourite in the franchise?

David Gaider: DA2 was the project where my writing team was firing on all cylinders, and they wrote like the wind- because they had to! Second draft? Pfft. Plot reviews? Pfft. I was so proud of what we all accomplished in such a brief time. I didn't think it was possible. [source] DA2 is, however, also where the goal posts kept moving. Things kept getting cut, even while we worked. I had to write that dialogue where Orsino turned even if you sided with him, because his boss battle had been cut and there was no time to fix the plot. A real WTF moment. >:( [source]

Mike Rousseau: I remember bugging that! And then being told it wasn't a bug, and being so confused. Doing QA for DA2 was an experience. Trial by fire. [source]

DG: So I think it's safe to say DA2 is my favorite entry in the DA franchise and also the sort of thing I never want to live through ever again. Mixed feelings galore. [source]

User: (I personally blame whoever it was for ruining most romance arcs in other games for me; they don't live up to Fenris's romance storyline)

DG: I wrote Fenris, so uh - me, I guess? Or maybe his cinematic designer, who put in the puppy dog eyes. [source]

User: If DA2 had just been an expansion, do you think it would have been better received? There was a lot of great stuff in there, and I think my initial dislike of it was because of the zone reuse. If it hadn't needed to be a full game, would that issue not have arisen?

DG: Hard to say. It was either going to be an over-scoped expansion or an under-scoped sequel. If it had stayed an expansion, it might never have received the resources/push it DID get. [source]

User: I'd love to visit the universe where you had an extra year or so to work on it. You did a very good job as it stands, but it definitely had rough edges. Not just the writing team either. The whole game had hit and miss moments, that just a little more dev time could have fixed.

DG: On one hand, DA2 existed to fill a hole in the release schedule. More time was never in the cards. DA2 was originally planned as an expansion! On the other, if we had more time, would we have started doing that thing where we second guess/iterate ourselves into mediocrity? [shrug emoji] [source]

Jennifer Hepler: This is what I love about DA2. Personally, I greatly prefer something that's rough and raw and sincere to something that's had all the soul polished out of it. Extra time would have helped for art and levels, but it would have lost something too. [source]

DG: Right? I think we could have used some time for peer reviews (and fewer cuts), but I think the rawness of the writing lent a certain spark that we usually polished out. [source]

JH: Definitely. I think the structure (more character-driven) and the tightness of the timeframe let each individual writer's voice really come through. Polish can be very homogenizing. [source]

DG: I should add I'm not, by any means, against iteration. Some iteration is good and necessary. The problem that BioWare often had is that we never knew when to stop. Like a goldfish, we would fill the space given to us by constantly re-iterating on things that were "good enough". [source]

Patrick Weekes: I appreciate your incredibly diplomatic use of the past tense on "had". :D [source]

User: DA2 was my gateway into the series and I’m so happy it is. I love the game the way that it is. It’s one of my favorites of all time. But I am also aware of everything that was said here. If it were remastered, do you think it would change?

DG: I'd be surprised if it was ever remastered. If it was, do you really think they'd change things? Do remasters do that? No idea. [source]

User: Both sides got undercut as I recall. Didn't that whole sequence also end with the mage leader embracing blood magic? It was very much "a plague on both your houses" moment, at least for me.

DG: Yep. Orsino was supposed to have his own version of Meredith's end battle, which only happened if you sided with the templars. That got cut, but the team still wanted to use the model we'd made for him. So... that happened. [source]

DG: I would personally say that DA2 is a fantastic game hidden under a mountain of compromises, cut corners, and tight deadlines. If you can see past all that, you'll see a fantastic game. I don't doubt, however, that it's very difficult for most to do that. [source]

PW: I love DAI with all my selfish "I worked on this" heart, but DA2's follower arcs and relationships are probably my favorite in the series. [source]

User: As I've expressed many times, I love the game, especially it's writing and characters but, for me, the most impressive aspect of it, in consideration of it's lack of time for drafts and revisions, is the 2nd act with Arishok. What amazingly complex character and fantastic duel

User: Just played it again and I have to agree. Though he is bound by the harsher tenants of the Qun, he makes valid points about free marcher society. Though it is obvious that he and Hawke will come to blows eventually, the tension builds gradually and understandably

DG: Luke did such a fantastic job with the Arishok I found myself sometimes wishing the Qunari plot had just been THE plot. [source]

User: What do you think would have changed, story wise, if you had more time for DA2?

DG: I would have taken out that thing where Meredith gets the idol. It was forced on me because she needed to be "super-powered" with red lyrium for her final battle. Being "crazy", however, robbed her side of the mage/templar argument of any legitimacy. I hated hated hated that. [source]

User: I deeply lament that there wasn't/couldn't be some sort of DA2 equivalent of Throne of Bhaal's Ascension mod.

DG: I'd have done it, if DA2 had allowed for anything but the most rudimentary of modding. ;) [source]

User: I mean, and I think I understand where you were trying, but how much legitimacy did the Templars and her as top Templar have after they're keeping the mages locked up against their will in the old slave quarters? Feel free to not reply.

DG: I think it's the kind of discussion which requires nuance, and which discussions on the Internet are not prone to. [source]

User: Was a compromise that the quest lines don’t branch? It felt like it was supposed to be that way but then you end up in the same place later regardless of what you pick. Like I hoodwinked the templars so good to help the apostates escape but in Act II they were caught anyway.

DG: I remember us having a lot more branching in the initial planning yes. Most of this got trimmed out in the first or second wave of cuts, in an effort to not cut the plots altogether. [source]

DG: "If you could Zack Snyder DA2, what would you change?" Wow. I'm willing to bet Mark or Mike (or anyone else on the team) would give very different answers than me, but it's enough to give a sober man pause, because that was THE Project of Multiple Regrets. [source] I mean, it's the most hypothetical of hypotheticals. It's never gonna happen. I wouldn't be surprised if EA considered DA2 its embarrassing red-headed stepchild. We'd also need to ignore that in many ways DA2 was as good as it was bad BECAUSE of how it was made. But that aside? [source] First, either restore the progressive changes to Kirkwall we'd planned over the passing of in-game years or reduce the time between acts to months instead of years... which, in hindsight, probably should have been done as soon as the progressive stuff was cut. [source] I'm sure you're like "get rid of repeated levels!" ...but I don't care about that. All I wanted was for Kirkwall to feel like a bigger city. Way more crowded. More alive! Fewer blood mages. [source] I'd want to restore the plot where a mage Hawke came THIS close to becoming an abomination. An entire story spent trapped in one's own head while trapped on the edge of possession. Why? Because Hawke is the only mage who apparently never struggles with this. It was a hard cut. [source]

User: I would LOVE to hear more details about this! I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a short story?

DG: I don't even remember the details of the story, sorry. There was a fight, and you caught the bad guy and then realized none of it was real and woke up idk [source]

DG: I'd want to restore all those alternate lines we cut, meaning people forget they'd met you. Or that they knew you were a mage. Or, oh god, that maybe they'd romanced you in DAO. So much carnage. [source] I'd want to restore the Act 3 plots we cut only because they were worked on too late, but which would have made the buildup to the mage/templar clash less sudden. Though I don't remember what they were, now. Some never got beyond being index cards posted on the wall. [grimace emoji] [source] As I mentioned elsewhere, I'd want to restore Orsino's end battle so he wouldn't need to turn on you even if you sided with him. And I'd want an end fight with the templars that didn't require Meredith to have red lyrium and go full Tetsuo. [source] Heck, maybe an end decision where you sided with neither the mages nor the templars. Because it certainly ended up feeling like you could brand both sides as batshit pretty legitimately, no? That was never planned, tho. No idea how to make that feel like an actual path atm. [source] Maybe an option to go "umm, Anders... what are you DOING?" 👀 [source] And, of course, a Varric romance, because Mary took that "slimy car salesman" character we'd planned and did the impossible with him. I can feel Mary glaring at me for even suggesting this, tho. [source] Lastly, the original expanded opening to the game which allowed you to spend time with Bethany and Carver BEFORE the darkspawn attacked. And, um, that's about it off the top of my head. Zack Snyder, WHAT PANDORA'S BOX HAVE YOU OPENED. [source] Shit, I remembered two more things: 1) Restore the "Varric exaggerates the heck out of the story" at the beginning of every Act, until Cassandra calls him on it. Yes, that was a thing. 2) Make DA: Exodus. Yes, I am still bitter. [source] God damn it, I meant "Make DA: Exalted March". The DA2 expansion, NOT Exodus since that was DA2's original name and makes no sense. Because the expansion ended with Varric dying, and that will always be on my "things left undone" list. [source]

User: Whaaaat?

DG: Well, you know that scene in Wrath of Khan where Spock goes into the dilithium chamber because he's a Vulcan? Well, imagine that but with Varric and red lyrium and because he's a dwarf. ;) [source]

John Epler: I distinctly remember referencing the bit from MGS4 where you crawl through the microwave corridor in the split screen, while cinematic battle rages on the other half. [source]

DG: It would have been glorious, John. Glorious. [source]

JE: I don't think I've ever been so certain what a shot should look like as I did Hawke coming in and finding Varric in the broken throne, just like when he was telling Cassandra his story. [source]

DG: It would have come full circle! Auggghh, it still kills me. [source]

User: Lord, you folks are a little too good at this.

JE: The true secret behind videogame narrative is knowing how to make yourself seem a lot more clever than you actually are. [source] 'Oh, we TOTALLY planned that.' [source]

User: Ok, this thread [the DA2 regrets thread, which is the big chunks above] but Inquisition.

DG: My regrets about Inquisition are, more or less, the normal kind. Nothing so dramatic, I'm afraid. [source]

User: You can keep your Varric romance, I want a Flemeth romance goddamnit!

DG: I would allow for one flirt option, and then a recording of Kate Mulgrew laughing for three minutes straight. [source]

User: I had a hypothesis about the repetitive caves in DA2. They're repetitive because it's Varric telling the story and he didn't consider them important. They're like sets in a play. (Okay, I really suspect it was a time/money/resources thing but I like my fake explanation better.)

DG: Hang a lampshade on it, maybe? Cassandra: "But that's the exact cave you were in last time?" Varric: "Whatever. They all look the same, I'm not THAT kind of dwarf. Can we move on?" [source]

User: that makes sense, hypothetically to make Varric romanceable and keep his arc—that had to happen for the main plot—I imagine you would have to make double the content (or more)? which would've been a tall order given the time/budget constraints the game was under

DG: Right. When it comes to "romance arc" vs. "follower story arc", we generally only had time to do one or the other. Never both. Romancing Varric would have meant not getting the story of his that you did. [source]

Mary Kirby: The one exaggeration I really, REALLY wanted, that we never got to do was Varric narrating his own death scene with Hawke weeping over him, then cutting to Cassandra's pissed off glaring at him. [source]

DG: Haha! The one I wanted was Varric's plot where he takes on the baddies single-handedly, sliding across the floor like Jet Lee, action movie-style, until finally Cassandra gets irritated and he has to admit Hawke & the rest of the party showed up to help. [source]

MK: We did that one! (He didn't do any Jet Lee moves, though.) Jepler gave him letterboxing to get The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly showdown vibes while he shot a ton of mooks single-handed. [source]

DG: Wow. Shows how much I remember. [source]

JE: I found it! I remember seeing this sequence as my treat for doing a bunch of much more challenging work. It was fun to see how far I could push our limited library of animations. [link] [source]

DG: Heh awesome. I could have sworn it was cut, honestly. I think I was even in that meeting. [source]

User: no disrespect but that’s surprising and rich of Mary “Hard in Hightown” Kirby to think DA2 shouldn’t have had a Varric romance when she wrote an entire book of Varric’s self-insert character pining over his Hawke insert character… HIH is the reason we had VHawke Summer 2018

DG: I can't *really* speak for Mary, or how she feels about it now compared to back then. I only know how she felt about it back then, and I'm not sure it was as much the concept of the romance but that Varric's entire story would be bent to "romance arc" ...a very different thing. [source]

JH: I remember pushing to have the first DLC start with Hawke having an option to ask Varric, "Did you tell Cassandra about us?" and if you picked it, Varric would answer, "Of course not, baby. I told her you were sleeping with X..." and then proceed as if you had had a full romance. [source]

DG: I still wonder how that would have gone over. x) [source]

JE: Okay, one more DA2 thing. Putting together the cinematics for this scene was a blast. [link] [source]

MK: These lines are my greatest legacy. I want "Make sure the world knows I died... at Chateau Haine!" inscribed on my tombstone. [source]

JE: I was so glad no one said 'no' to the crane shot. [source]

MK: It needs that crane shot. It's the perfect icing on that cake made from solid cheese. [source]

DG: The designers were all "we need more combat" and I think we were all "I think you underestimate just HOW interesting we can make this dinner party". [source]

JE: And finally. I think @SherylChee wrote the one-liner. I think we had a collection of like, 20. [link] [source]

Sheryl Chee: Yeah! Something like that! I remember submitted a whole bunch and Frank said you only needed one. Wish I'd kept the other fifteen. [source]

JE: A random chooser where, each time through the scene, you get a different one-liner. [source]

JE: DA2 is the project I'm the proudest of. I also absolutely get that it didn't land for a lot of people. But I don't think it's inaccurate to say that, in a lot of ways, DA2 defined my career. [source] Everyone spent a year working at their maximum ability. I was a fresh cinematic designer and was given all of Varric's content, as well as the Act 1 Finale mission. It was a lot for someone who had been doing the Cinematics thing for literally 6 months. [source] There's some stuff in there I can't look at without wincing. And there's some stuff I'm genuinely proud of. Not to mention, it was my introduction to most of the writing team. Several of whom I'm still working with today! Albeit in a different capacity [source] Also, weirdly, one of my most enduring memories of Dragon Age 2 is how much Bad Company 2 we'd play at lunch. It was a LOT. [source] Every game I've worked on has a game I played attached to it. ME2 is Borderlands. DA2 is Bad Company 2. DAI is DayZ. I, hmm. There's a progression there. I don't know how I feel about it. [source]

User: Is DA4 going to be tarkov then?

JE: I've kind of churned out of Tarkov for now. Probably Hunt Showdown, at least right now. [source]

User: I think people also don't take nuance into consideration -- like I FULLY acknowledge the flaws in my favorite games and will openly criticize them, but that doesn't mean they're not my favorite games anymore??? You can like and thing and still be critical of it.

JE: A lot of my favourite shit is deeply flawed! I acknowledge it and I think it's interesting to dissect the flaws. [source]

User: I still wish Justice was an actual character in DA2 rather than a plot point.

DG: There was a moment during DAI where we *almost* put in you running into Justice with the Grey Wardens, and he's all "Kirkwall? I never went to Kirkwall" [source]

User: Does that imply that Justice was shoehorned in to DA2?

DG: Nah, it was an in-joke where we thought it'd be fun to suggest that "Justice" was simply some demon that tricked Anders in DA2. Wooo those tricky demons! We didn't do it, though. [source]

User: [about templars] except, I don't think it had very much legitimacy to begin with. keep in mind, we interact with other characters with the same argument. The one that comes to mind is Cullen, a sane templar in power. The templar's side of the argument is inherently flawed.

DG: I don't doubt that many people agree with you, and yet people can and do argue on behalf of the templars as well. My place isn't to pick a side, but to provide evidence that players can interpret for themselves [source]

User: Can you shed some light for us on how DA was able to do multiple same-sex romance options for different genders but the Mass Effect team treated them like the plague? What process existed for your team that just wasn't their for the other tentpole franchise?

DG: Different people making the decisions, almost different cultures. I don't know what it's like now, but for many years the Mass Effect team and the Dragon Age team were almost like two different studios working within the same building. [source]

User: It truly boggles the mind. Kudos for doing demonstrably better on consistent queer representation than the ME teams. Y'all never needed us to make petitions to try to get the studio's attention and ask them to do better by us. That's the fight we're once again embroiled in now.

DG: Honestly, I don't feel like tut-tutting the Mass Effect team. They did their part, and if they were a bit later to the show than the DA team they certainly did more than almost every other game out there -- and willingly. [source]

Updates begin here

User: So what was the reason for naming Dragon age 2 "Dragon age II" and not using a subtitle?

DG: As I recall, that was purely a publisher decision. I think they wanted to avoid the impression it was an expansion. [source]

User: Is there no chance of ever remaking DA2 under better circumstances? -Somehow remove the repetitiveness of gameplay by making changes and updating the tech and adding much more to the storyline. It could almost be a new very exciting game.

DG: I'd say there's zero chance of that. Let's keep our hopes up for the next DA title instead. [source]

User: I am a little confused here, help me out here please! How exactly was the cut boss battle with Orsino supposed to work out? How it would've kept him from turning against the player?

DG: It means that, if you sided with the templars, the entire boss bottle at the end would have been against Orsino and the mages. No fight against Meredith. The end decision would have been more divergent. [source]

User: I do remember that one of the reasons going around for that, was that resources were going to the transition to Frostbite. I'm still not fully sold on that having been a good choice. I felt that more time should have been given for that transition considering it was made for FPSs

DG: We didn't transition to Frostbite until DAI. Given our time frame for DA2, I don't think we *could* have transitioned to a new engine. [source]

User: Since your talking about the what could have been for DA2. Could you say what your script was for Anthem? Cause I remember reading that you wrote the plot on that game.

DG: I created a setting for Anthem and scripted out a plot - but, as I understand it, almost none of that ended up being used. So it's a bit pointless to talk about what I'd planned, as that'd be for some completely different type of game. [source]

User: [in reference to the exchange above where DG said “Being "crazy", however, robbed her side of the mage/templar argument of any legitimacy. I hated hated hated that.” re: Meredith] except, I don't think it had very much legitimacy to begin with. keep in mind, we interact with other characters with the same argument. The one that comes to mind is Cullen, a sane templar in power. The templar's side of the argument is inherently flawed.

If I missed a tweet, got the wrong source link or included a tweet twice, feel free to let me know and I’ll correct.

Edit / Update: Post update 22nd April

#dragon age #bioware #video games #fenris #the Fenaissance #long post #longpost #cassandra pentaghast #my lady paladin #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #mass effect

260 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Lucky Me (Sequel To Unlucky)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You aren’t always born with luck. Sometimes, you meet people who bring it to you. In short, they are your lucky charm.

Requested: Yes, but not in a typical way. A big thank you to all the wonderful people who read, liked, reblogged and commented on part one - Unlucky.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 and many more ❤❤❤

They are the reason this story is being written. What was originally supposed to be an elaborate one-shot turned into the most liked piece I’ve ever written. I can’t thank you enough, guys. You are amazing and I hope you like this one just as much or even more than the previous. Love you ❤❤❤

Y/N’s POV

I’m grinning at my reflection in the mirror as I put on a pair of earrings. My face is already touched-up with a little make-up and my hair is looking on point. I can almost see my own reflection in the shine of excitement in my eyes. I take in my upper body via a quick once-over in the full body mirror opposite me, and I finally relax my muscles that I didn’t ever realize I was tensing.

“OK, now I’m ready.“ I say as a form of encouragement as I reach behind me for my phone that’s sitting on my bed.

You might be wondering where I’m going? Who I’m going with? What’s the occasion behind this many preparations and pampering?

The answer: Nowhere. No one. Nothing. I’m literally not even going to leave my house.

It might seem ridiculous to someone else, but to me, to my hypnotized mind, it’s perfectly reasonable to be getting so amped up over a FaceTime call. Yeah, you heard me correctly - a FaceTime call.

Well, you see, this isn’t the first time we FaceTime, but it will be the first time we’ll see each other’s faces. I wanted to level the field so I didn’t let him on to what I look like, where exactly I live, etc. Basically, he only knows my name, which I am still prepared to call unfair, considering I don’t know his real name.

A brief backstory to my first ever real interaction with Corpse: I was introduced to him by my friends. They are the ones I always turned to with all the scary shit happening in my life. Often times they didn’t know weather to comfort me or laugh at my curse. My friends suggested I start sharing it to a youtuber named Corpse Husband. You see, I love YouTube narrators and I’ve always been a fan of Mr. Nightmare and I, to be perfectly honest, always kept the idea of sending him my stories in the back of my mind. Nevertheless, I bit the bullet and checked out on of this Corpse Husband guy’s videos. And then another. And another. And before I knew it I was having a marathon after which I was too paranoid to get online, walk home alone at night, leave my curtains open etc. It wasn’t all thanks to the stories themselves. A lot of the fear factor these stories strike with should be credited to the way they are read. Let me tell you, this guy had it all figured out with the reading. Not sending him my stories would just be wrong. So I did, I sent him my first ever creepy encounter which was with a stalker from my high school and it took me only two days to forget about it. It only crossed my mind when my friends blew my phone up, demanding I watched Corpse’s new video. I kid you not, I got more scared by the story when he read it than when I lived it. That’s what settled it for me - I decided to send him each and every story.

And then one day, out of the blue, my life changed for the better in more ways than one. It got turned completely upside down, like a rollercoaster, and I just had to hold on and enjoy the ride, embrace the adrenaline rush and excitement, knowing full well that I chose to get on and there’s no way I can get off halfway through.

I’m being too metaphorical. He sent me an email. He freaking reached out to me. And I was posed with a rough choice. Took me a minute, but I chose to reply to him, I chose to trust him, and I couldn’t just leave him on read one day simply cause I chickened out. Yes, I’m unlucky and these things don’t happen to unlucky people. I mean, they do, but they are nightmares disguised as a dream come true. I’ve lived all my life cautiously: if something sounds too good to be true it’s either not as good as marketed or not true at all. If it’s dark and late and there are no people around, FaceTime someone. If your Uber driver’s sketchy, cancel the ride. I take all the precautions and I still find myself in the worst situations. Or at least...

My thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of my phone. A simple ringtone I hear every time he calls me. A simple sound that causes me butterflies when I hear it and ultimate devastation if the caller ID doesn’t read the name I want. It always gets me excited, probably more than it should. This time is different, however. It’s scary almost. I’m nervous, anxious, scared, hesitant - all things I never feel when I’m about to answer his call.

With shaky hands I pick up the call and find myself looking at the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Now I know why I would have never initiated this meeting, because I know what color my face is right now. I know my voice has let me down before I even attempt to speak. I know I look like a mess. I know my obvious crush is showing.

Corpse initiated this meeting. He said he was getting too curious and he wanted one of his best friends to see him and for him to finally see her. It’s been about seven months since we first started texting and I haven’t let out a single peep about it to a single soul. It’s just between him and I. We are each other’s safe space away from the rest of the world.

“Thought you weren’t gonna pick up for a second there.“ His voice is not as confident as other times when we’ve talked. His trying to hide his own nervousness and all I wanna do is hug him and tell him he doesn’t have to. I kept telling him over and over again that we don’t have to do this if he’s not sure that he actually wants it. I even offered to show him what I look like, not expecting to see him in return but he declined, saying it was now his turn to even the field.

“I was in another room.“ I manage to say, my voice only shaking a little.

We spend a few moments just looking at each other. Admiring one another. For someone who prefers digital interaction, I am surprised to realize I wish he was actually standing in front of. I wish I could hug him. A long hug of comfort, mutual understanding and hidden feelings.

He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head which causes a few strands of hair to fall over his eyepatch, “I’m sorry...It’s just-...Fuck I’m stumbling.” He chuckles nervously, “I just...can’t believe you are real. You are a real person. And the most beautiful person I’ve seen. That’s corny, isn’t it.” He looks away from the screen, his face now a shade of red. “But I mean it. I’m embracing my corniness. You are beautiful, Y/N. Not that I’m flexing or anything, but I’m lucky to have met you.”

I laugh, feeling my eyes stinging from the tears that have suddenly formed. I don’t want to let them fall, but I don’t have much say in that. “Well, mister Corpse, I can’t begin to compare. I mean...that hair! I still cannot believe it’s you. You are not just a deep voice in my mind. You are....you are...”

“Everything you imagined and more?“ he jokes, making my whole body heat up. “I told you you could trust. I mean, if the hair doesn’t confirm I’m who I say I am, I don’t know what will.”

“Actually, I never tried to imagine what you looked like. I knew those visions...I knew they didn’t matter. Faces don’t matter to us, Corpse. I think you realize that.“

And just like that, all I’ve been keeping hidden is pouring out. I don’t try to stop it - you can’t stop a hurricane with bare hands.

“I never needed a face to imagine us. I always saw as talking on the phone, playing Among Us. Reading scary stories to each other on Discord. I never needed a face to imagine your company. To imagine what we could be...“ I trail off, letting the first tear slip down my cheek.

The most sincere look appears in his eyes, “Fuck, I wish I could hold your hand right now. Never mind, I wish I could hug you, Y/N. Hug you and not let go for a long time.”

I laugh halfheartedly, my chest burning from the intensity of this moment’s intimacy, “I can always tell you where I live.” I’m only half-joking. I really want to see him in real life, not just through a screen, but even this call is out of his comfort zone, let alone a physical meet up.

He surprises me yet again, “Saturday. I’ll bring the take out, you pick the movie.” he says with a smile that is literally saying ‘you didn’t see that coming, did you?’

“How are you sure I don’t live in a different state, or a different continent all together?“ I tease, making an attempt to put my composure back together.

He smirks, “I pay way more attention to your stories than you’d think.” I laugh, shaking my head as a pointless method of fighting the pesky tears that he has 100% noticed by this point. “By the way, just because we’re....” he thinks for a second, “in a weird zone between friendship and...something more, doesn’t mean you have to stop sending me stories. I absolutely love reading them for my audience. They love em too.”

I just realized I am yet to tell him the crazy miracle that has happened. “Well, the thing is...I don’t have any.” His eyebrows shoot up in shock which makes me laugh, “Yeah, I know, it’s crazy. Since the day we started talking I have not experienced a single scary thing. Deadass. I swear on my life.”

If I wasn’t so head over heels for this man already, the baffled expression on his face would definitely send me falling for him. He’s just that adorable. “Wow.”

“I know right.“ I nod, “Seems to me you have enough luck to share with me.“

His eyes light up at that comment, showing just how meaning full it is to him.

“You’re my lucky charm, Corpse.“

“I will never be more proud of any other title, Y/N. That I can promise you with no hesitation.“

“Deadass?“

“Deadass.“

1K notes · View notes

aetheternity · 4 years ago

Text

I'll admit it's exciting. (Armin x reader)

Synopsis: Being your professor's dirty little secret. His pet.. Sounded too good to refuse.

Warning: Smut in the later chapters! 18+ only

"Good girl.." Your lip tucked itself beneath your tooth. Spine tingling at the intoxicating scent surrounding you.

You coaxed a breath off your lips as the almost inaudible creak of the desk under your professors weight made you sit up straight. His arms locking you in place.

You looked into his soft blue eyes feeling a tinge of entrapment at the way he had you locked in.

"Do you understand now?" His surprisingly large hands caressed your shoulder.

"Y-yeah." If you could see your own face you'd probably be embarrassed but you were currently helpless to the tiny bits of touch he allowed you.

Your elbows pushed you up just a little bit closer to his chest. His touch disappearing too soon.

"I think you'll be ready for the test in a couple days." And suddenly every bit of him was walking away and back to sit at his desk. "You should still study though. This stuff has been difficult for you."

~~~~

"Y/N."

The tip of your nail stayed fidgeting between your lips.

"Y/N."

Words flew through your brain but it all continued to just be flushed straight out again.

"Y/N!" The book flew from your grasp landing with a clatter that attracted glances from all angles.

"Are you alright Y/N?" Eren asked, concern etched into his deep sapphire eyes.

You let out a harsh exhale. "I was, until Sasha stopped my heart." You held a palm up to your chest, glaring over at Sasha.

Mikasa blinked boredom sunk into her features. Her cheeks forced into the palms of her hands as her elbows stayed firmly planted into the table. "New class?"

You nodded, shutting your binder before promptly flipping it open again.

"You'll be fine." She muttered, staring at you with her own version of concern.

"How can you say that? I had to transfer from a different class a month after the semester already started. You know how much stuff I've already missed! Not to mention I had originally thought this class was gonna be next semester me's problem." With a groan you let your head flop harshly onto the mildly sticky table in front of you.

"I think what Mikasa was trying to suggest was that Mr. Arlert has always been said to be a very gentle and caring professor." Sasha said

"You can always take office hours if you really have a hard time." Eren suggested

"Thanks Eren, but I think you're forgetting that I hate doing anything outside of class that won't immediately get me a passing grade."

Eren just shrugged, moving to stuff his notebooks into his own bag. All of them genuinely looking as though he'd just reused them from high school. Each one with a rip in the first page or the spiral unraveling.

"Welp it's 2:00." Sasha reminded you. And you groaned so loud you could practically feel the stares from other tables touching your soul.

"Maybe I'll fall down the stairs and break my ankle before I get up there." You slung your bag onto your shoulder hanging your head as you walked off.

"I'll have your favorite donuts in my room after you get out!" Sasha called

"You should've started with that!"

You made the walk so much longer by dragging your feet up every stair individually and rubbing a finger to your temple. So much so that it surprised you when you walked into the classroom and no one was in there except..

"Oh hello."

Hot..

So so very hot..

His smile sparkled only futher brightened by his deep blue eyes. His short blond hair parted slightly over his forehead. His blue button up was cuffed up against his forearms revealing a very slender but still fairly muscular set of hands. He probably had a nice chest too.

"You must be Y/N." He chuckled and before you could reassociate he was giving you a whole new list of things to think about as he bent over his desk to retrieve a piece of paper.

"Here's the syllabus. You're starting kinda late so it will be helpful to you to come to office hours. My office hours are at the bottom here." When he reached forward to point his scent caught you by surprise. A sweet almost fruit like smell wafted up your nose. "I hope you'll catch on quickly. Sit wherever you'd like."

His remark barely registered in your mind, your mouth hung open immediately slamming shut as the class quickly began to fill.

Before you could get swept up by the people flooding into the room you made your way to the front plopping down into the seat closest to the window. When you looked up again from where you'd yanked your binder almost haphazardly out of your bag, you caught the quickest wink you'd ever seen in your entire life.

Or maybe it was your imagination.

But the way he leaned a little closer when he approached you wasn't.

"Front row? Good choice."

Regardless of the heart problems he'd recently caused you he was moving on. Quickly silencing the class and starting the lesson.

Hot.

The only thought racing through your head.

Hot. Hot. Hot..

He was pretty! When he turned off the light his eyes didn't dull in the almost blinding way in which they shone. His hair fluttered over his forehead and ears and his shirt seemed to hug his chest tighter every time he reached up to turn off the projector or even just to reach a high spot on the board.

You already knew everything from today was going in one ear and out the other but it was really hard to give a damn when your professor's pants cupped his ass they way they did. His dark shoes clicked across the floor and-

"Do you understand any of it? I know it's your first day."

You blinked up at him hoping your eyes weren't as wide as they felt or that you weren't popping your mouth open and close like a suffocating fish.

He smiled, flipping the paper on the desk around till it faced him. "Can I?" He reached for the tip of your pen and as you let it go your fingers brushed in probably the strongest current of static that had ever touched your body.

"Don't worry ok this is just a practice test I wanna see what you know." He said, leaving a couple marks on the paper. He then pointed to the two empty test questions. "Don't leave anything blank ok."

This time when he walked away you were without a doubt certain he'd winked. When you looked down at your paper again you could see 3 checks on the paper in the light blue ink you were using and a little smiley face in the corner.

Your chest honestly had no right fluttering the way it did over something so trivial.

The class was only an hour and forty minutes but when it was over you felt like you'd only been seated there for ten minutes. When you handed the test paper back he sent you one final wink that made your knees buckle.

"See you next time." He said and you had to forcibly stop yourself from shuttering.

You half speed walked half ran out of there as soon as his classroom door had shut behind you. All the way to Sasha's dorm room.

You slammed it open already knowing Sasha only kept it locked when she wasn't in there. Your chest was heaving and you held onto the door frame for support. Noticing the immediate and visible flinch from Eren and Sasha.

"He's. Hot!!" You gasped for air before walking in and sinking to the floor in front of Sasha. She didn't budge as you fell against her shoulder just wrapped an arm around your shoulders hugging your back. "Oh god he's so hot.." You breathed into Sasha's collarbone.

"Looks like she did learn something." Eren muttered

"No! You don't understand he's like so pretty!"

Mikasa didn't even try to hide the way she rolled her eyes and Eren just sighed.

"Aww you've got a crush on your professor that's adorable." Sasha said, reaching into the box next to her, grabbing your favorite donut she pushed it into your open mouth pulling it back slightly to allow you to chew.

You sobbed a little before sighing and falling back into Sasha's neck. "What the hell am I gonna do?" You sighed

"Focus on passing the class is probably the first step." Eren replied

"Now you're just being silly." You replied, rubbing your fingers into the floor.

Sasha brought the donut back up to your lips smiling as you took another bite. "I wanna see him now! Isn't he the really young professor? Like he's supposedly only twenty five as of recently and got hired less than a year ago."

"Yeah.." You quickly put your password into your phone, turning the screen so Sasha could see.

Mikasa and Eren scooted closer as Sasha took a closer look. "He is pretty." Mikasa was the first to speak.

"Why do you just have his picture pulled up? How're you already being creepy?" Eren questioned

You scoffed, "I just happened to be looking on Instagram during a quick bathroom trip.. and I just so happened to look for him.. it's his fault for making it easy." You snatched the donut from Sasha taking a bigger bite.

"Yeah no I agree with Eren this is cree- AW HE HAS A DOG!" Sasha snatched the phone zooming in on the puppy in his lap.

"Actually it's his family's dog. Her name's Pumpkin and he goes home as often as possible to see her. A small two hour train ride to be exact." You sigh briefly "I've never really liked Terriers as a dog breed but that one's so cute.."

"Is the dog cute or is it the guy holding her?" Mikasa questioned with a little smirk.

"Not helping Mikasa.." Eren interjected "What are you even thinking? No matter if you like professor Arlert or not he has to keep it professional and so do you."

"Eren, look at the puppy." You took your phone from Sasha turning the screen back to face him.

He glanced down at the image then back into your eyes with a raised eyebrow.

"Puppy!"

"Creepy!" He pressed the power button on your phone and you deflated against Sasha's legs letting your phone turn over onto its face.

"I'll never understand why you don't go for a degree in hacking or something the way you always manage to pull up information on people." Mikasa shook her head.

"Probably going to be stuck with more math classes for one and secondly when I become a supervillain I don't need everyone knowing it was apart of my major." You replied, with an exaggerated eye roll.

Sasha shrugged, "If it was your major I'm pretty sure everyone would understand your descent into madness."

"I can't believe you just said that.." Eren groaned, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"Me or her?" You asked

"Yes!"

~~~~

Thursday came too soon. Or maybe you should say, finally Thursday is here! You jumped back and forth between the two but by the time you slid into the honestly uncomfortable classroom seat and placed your bag between your legs you knew exactly what you felt.

"Professor!" A female's voice caught your attention and you turned slightly to see a short brown haired girl running into the classroom.

"You were right about what I was missing! Once I applied what we talked about in office hours it became so simple."

"That's what I like to hear Petra." He winked as he flipped through a stack of papers on his desk.

Wait, had he always done that to all the students or had you just not noticed last time? You felt your shoulders hunch but they were instantly picking back up again as he slid a piece of paper onto your desk.

"You did pretty well on that practice test. Seems like you'll be up to speed in no time." He smiled, a deep warm smile that made your stomach squeeze.

Your lips curled upwards and you quickly moved to hide it behind your paper as he walked away.

"You too huh?"

You felt your skin practically vibrate but you hoped and prayed it wasn't too noticeable.

"Wh-what?" You glanced over at the girl Petra who sat only one desk away from you. Her features flat and her eyes dark in the middle an almost scary contrast from earlier.

"You're into him too?" She muttered

Was it that obvious? Stupid question. How could you be so obvious?

"I don't think you'll win out." She continued and before you could question it, she pointed to the back row.

It seemed almost like a tussle as Mr. Arlert was being held hostage by another young female holding his hand. He smiled mildly awkwardly as he spoke with her, nodding his head to everything her and the other girls surrounding her said. The first girl running a thumb over the back of his hand.

You felt your skin prickle and you exhaled loudly. "So.. I'm guessing you too.."

Petra blinked at you then quickly shifted around in her seat. Mr. Arlert quickly approached the front of the room clapping to get the classes attention. And with that the lesson was beginning.

You noticed from the clap at the beginning of class to the last word uttered that not one word in Mr. Arlert's lesson had actually registered in your mind. Your thoughts too full of Petra's words, her blank almost villainous expression as she'd talked.

And that girl's hand. That annoying girl in the back row. You peeked your head back there looking at the now empty chair. In fact the entire classroom was empty and had been for at least 15 minutes since you continued to struggle with stuffing your binder back into your apparently shrunken bag.

"Need help?"

You bit your lip and looked away as he came closer. You weren't really standing up straight but you immediately noticed the way he towered over you. His fingers so delicate in the way they brushed over yours sliding the irritating object into the confines of your bag.

"Thank you.." You whispered

He chuckled, "No problem, happy to help."

His eyes didn't leave yours for an almost uncomfortable amount of time so you shifted your feet backing away a little. He seemed to notice and placed a hand on the back of his neck, backing up himself.

Oh no. Now he was getting uncomfortable.

He made his way back over to his desk but not before you'd slipped in something to ease the tension. "Sorry for over staying my welcome.."

He let out a soft chuckle. "You're not bothering me plus there are no classes in here for two hours after mine on Thursday. You can stay as long as you'd like."

"O-oh." You face palmed internally at your stupid reply. "So.." You began again. "Do you mind if I asked you how you're such a young professor.."

His eyes flickered up from the work he'd been filling out. "Well, I skipped a couple grades and I was in college by 15. I'm actually still in college now but I was an assistant teacher at 18 for about three years for a high school a couple blocks from here before I became a full fledged teacher and then I worked at the same school as a teacher for three more years before I finally left and started teaching here."

It should've been obvious from the start that he'd worked tireless hours of school to get here at such a young age. Not to mention probably having worked just as hard in the gym. He'd only leaned back a little bit in his chair but it was enough for you to have a perfect mental image.

Your eyes flicked up to his much softer more.. Arlert like smile? Maybe? It just felt like the kind of smile he'd give a friend and less like the smile he used in the classroom. Not that that one felt fake, just.. different.

"Do you.. I mean.. have you always had girls?.." His eyebrows scrunched as you spoke. You pointed to the back of the classroom. "You're young I mean, do girls always touch you like that?"

He blinked up at the ceiling then back down to you. Your breath hitched as he pulled himself up from the desk walking closer to you.

"As soon as they find out I'm not that much older than them? Yeah."

You probably should've stopped but your brain was suddenly working independently. "Does it?.. Do you like that kind of attention?"

He sat down on the desk crossing his arms over his chest and his leg over his knee. He spoke his head. "Not normally no."

"Normally?"

He stood again but this time he stopped directly in front of you. Sharp blue eyes cold and yet warm and vibrant. The desk creaked under your weight as you leaned back into it. His hands at your sides, his breath tickling your upper lip.

His thumb came up to graze your cheek but was quickly removed and planted back on the desk. "Can I kiss you?"

You nodded way too eagerly and-

So so so much softer than you'd even thought imaginable. His nose rubbed against yours and he was pulling away. Too soon.

You grabbed the back of his neck, yanking him back to you. Immediately delighted by the warm touch of his pretty pink lips.

He pulled back and you yanked him forward. Over and over again with soft peppered kisses. And then one slightly longer one where he was comfortably mushing his lips against yours.

#armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #armin smut #armin arlert x reader smut #armin arlert #armin x y/n #armin aot #aot x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #aot smut #snk smut #aot imagines #attack on titan smut #shingeki no kyoujin #cal writes

239 notes · View notes

ghost-of-you · 2 years ago

Text

Catch 22 - CH - Part 5

Paring: Calum Hood x Original Female Character

Word Count: 1.8 k

Warnings: none.

Author's note: this one is very short cuz it's something i felt was missing so i had to squeeze it somewhere. Next part will be up tomorrow.

The title for this one is from 21 questions by Waterparks

read it on ao3

Series Masterlist

playlist

part 4 part 6

________

But then what?

2016

It had been a few months since Emma ran into Michael and Calum, and things were weird. Between her and Calum at least. She'd been texting Michael, but to say that she's expecting her phone’s screen to light up with Calum's number that night would be a lie.

"Hello?" She answers, dropping back away from her laptop, laying there looking at the ceiling, preparing herself for the sound of his voice.

"Emma? Hi, it's Calum." He pauses, and her breath hitches. "Hood," he says and she chuckles. As if she could ever forget who he was.

"You do know you're literally the only Calum I have ever met, right?" She replies with a chuckle.

"Right," he clears his throat, "how you've been?"

"Fine. You?" She’s wondering what made him call, and it's making her anxious.

"Good," he pauses. "I was hoping I could talk to you."

"In the middle of the night?" She chuckles nervously, throwing an arm across her face.

"Actually I was hoping you would meet me," he asks and the question makes her sit up straight.

"Why?"

"We didn't really have a chance to talk lately," he says, and she huffs.

"Well, that's one way to look at it," she mocks, and she didn’t need to hear his sigh to know it was coming.

"Emma,” he sighs, sounding exasperated.

"What?"

"Come on, I’m trying."

"Sorry. Are you even here?"

"I'll be on the weekend, are you free Saturday?" He says and she drops back into her pillows.

"I don't know," she shrugs, unsure what to do. Does she want to meet him? She really doesn’t know.

"Please," he pleads, and she sighs.

"Okay, sure. Just text me when and where"

_____

Emma is standing in front of the building the address Calum had sent led her to. She's about to text him when she spots a familiar frame through the window.

"Ashton?" She calls for him after walking through the doors, making him turn and smile at her. "Oh my God, hi," she collides with him, throwing her arms around his neck, and he hugs her with enough fierceness, it lifts her off the ground. "I had no idea you were here I'm so happy to see you," she says it all in one breath after he puts her down, making him laugh and she's beaming at him, "wait, are you all here?" She asks, frowning up at him.

"No," he scratches the back of his neck, "Cal asked me to come. Luke and Mike are doing some interviews," he explains.

"He brought you as a buffer?" She asks and he shrugs while she shakes her head, "of course he did. What the hell does he think I'm gonna do?"

"I don't know," he throws one arm over her shoulders, and she wraps hers around his waist, "Come on," he says, guiding her somewhere.

They reach a room that has a small couch, a couple of chairs, and a small table in the corner. Sitting on the sofa checking his phone is Calum. The scene is painfully familiar.

"Hi, Calum," she says, making him look up at them.

"You came," he states, surprise obvious in his tone, getting up and taking a step towards them, but that makes Emma curl closer to Ashton, who shoots an apologetic look at Calum.

"I told you I would," she answers. But to be fair, she wasn't sure she'd be there either.

"I didn't think it would actually come," he says, and she lets out a chuckle.

"Me neither."

"I'm gonna leave the two of you alone," Ashton says, nodding at Calum and squeezing Emma's shoulder, earning a panicked look from her, before walking out.

Emma and Calum watch as he closes the door, the tension in the room rising with the action. She turns to face him, eyes studying him. He's definitely taller and stronger than in her memories, the lack of sleeves in his shirt showing different tattoos covering his left arm, and she notices his nails are painted black when he nervously plays with a ring on his finger. She looks away, back to his face, not wanting to stare. He looks different, but somehow still the same, messy hair and warm eyes looking at her, the intensity of his gaze matching hers.

"Are you gonna say something or you'll just stare at me?" She says after a beat when he doesn't say anything.

"Sorry,” he shakes his head. ”You just look different," he lets out a chuckle, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, you look the same. With better hair," she laughs, "it's the pink, it throws people off," she says, pointing to her hair.

"It was blue the last time I saw you, right?" He asks, tilting his head.

"I don't know, I change it a lot," she shrugs, thinking about how even she could barely keep track of the colors anymore.

"You sound like Mike, it was like I would blink and he would have a new hair color."

"It's fun," she chuckles, and he smiles for a moment before the intensity returns.

Emma looks down, hand fidgeting with the bracelet on her wrist before moving around Calum to sit in the chair across from where he previously was. He watches as she moves before sitting back on the sofa.

She's looking at him, eyes locked on his, waiting. What did he want to say? Why did he call her there? The questions have been going through her head ever since she hung up the phone, and she feels like she's about to lose her mind.

"You said you wanted to talk," she says when he doesn't say anything.

"Straight to it, huh?" He says, a small smile on his lips.

"You can't say something like that over the phone and have me wait for it. I'm a very anxious person," she pulls her feet up to cross them in front of her, leaning forward while resting her elbows on her knees, and with that part of the tension lifts off her shoulders, "come on, spill it," she motions for him to talk, "I've been freaking out for a week, I can't take it anymore," she laughs and places a hand on her chest with a sight.

"When did you get so dramatic?" He teases her, and she lets out a fake shocked gasp.

"When did you get too scared to do something?" She shoots back.

"I'm not scared," he says, his leg starting to bounce and the movement makes Emma more anxious.

"Then talk,” she replies, waiting for another remark that wasn't what he called her there for.

"You're the one that runs away when I try to talk to you," he complains, leaning forward, hands together in front of him as he stops bouncing his leg.

"I'm here, aren't I?" She asks him, tilting her head and motioning for him to talk.

"I wanted to apologize," he says, after a pause, taking her by surprise.

"Apologize? For what?" She asks, tilting her head.

"For waking out on you, for all the shit I said that day," his voice is low, and she questions if she's hearing right.

"Oh," she swallows, flashes of a room not so different from this one, and the one thing she wished she could erase from her memory going through her mind. "That."

"Yeah, I didn't handle it very well, and I'm sorry," his voice sounds calm, rehearsed even, and that makes Emma roll her eyes.

"That's an understatement," she scoffs, making him frown at her.

"What do you mean?" He questions, sounding hurt.

"Come on, Calum, we didn't talk for two years over that, that's not just “not handling it very well”," she air-quotes him, raising her eyebrow, before dropping her arms to her lap. “It's dealing with it terribly.”

"Things just got a little out of hand," he says, running his hands through his hair.

"No, you didn't want to hurt my feelings by telling me you didn't feel anything for me, and things got out of control."

"Wait, what?" He frowns at her, tilting his head, trying to read her.

"Wasn't it?" She asks, biting her lip.

"I panicked 'cause I didn't want to hurt you, and I was about to move halfway across the world, I didn’t know what to do," he says, lowering his head and spinning a ring around his finger, avoiding her gaze.

"You could've just been honest with me," she states, making him look at her with pressed lips.

"I-" he starts, but she cuts him.

"Calum, I wasn't asking you to marry me. I was telling something to one of my best friends ‘cause I thought I could," she drops her feet back to the ground and leans back in the chair, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I was ready for the possibility of rejection, what I wasn't ready for was for us not being able to talk," she sighs, "until that day I never thought that I wouldn't be able to talk to you."

"I didn't think about that," he mumbles.

"Of course you didn't. I could've handled it if you had just straight up told me it's never gonna be more, what I couldn't handle was you walking out on me. You left and I had no idea what to do with myself after that. Then you came back, and you kissed me. Then you ignored me, said it meant nothing, and what got in my head was that I meant nothing. That messed with my head. I know now that I may have overreacted and that my timing was absolutely awful, but what hurt me the most was losing my friend."

"I just didn't want to screw anything up, but I guess that was exactly what happened," he offers, a half-smile on his lips and a sad look in his eyes.

"You went straight to the worst-case scenario, and it's where we ended up. Shit happens, it’s not really your fault." She leans forward, fidgeting with her bracelet again.

"So you're not mad at me?" He asks, staring into her eyes.

"No. I mean, I was, but we were kids. I couldn't stay angry forever. It was eating me up. You did say shitty stuff, and I reacted badly to them, but it's okay."

"It's not okay," he shakes his head.

"No, it is not, but it is. It doesn't matter now. It's already done. There's nothing we can do about it, is there?"

"We could… I don't know-" he’s searching for words, and she offers "be friends?"

"If you want," he adds.

"And what would that mean exactly?” She asks, frowning at him. She didn’t even know what being just friends with him meant anymore, “I don't run away if I see you in a bar and maybe text you some dog pics every now and then?"

"It can mean whatever you want," he tells her, and she holds back a smile.

“Well, we can see how things go.”

_________

taglist: @lxnelyhearrt @larryologymajor

#5sos fic #calum hood fic #i dont know how to tag fics #so yeah #mywriting #catch22 #calum hood fanfic #calum hood x oc #5 seconds of summer fanfic

5 notes · View notes

serenadeonacanoe · 4 years ago

Text

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

#namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #artist!namjoon

84 notes · View notes

mooniefics · 4 years ago

Text

in the grand scheme of things [ 3 ]

pairings : zeke jaeger / reader, referenced eren jaeger / reader

word count : 5.5k

tags : unhealthy relationships, relationship discussions, implied cheating, drinking, break ups, mutual infidelity, dubious morality, love triangles

warning : descriptions of alcohol and drug use

summary : you and eren hadn't been doing the best these past few months, and no one that you knew seemed to have any answers for you, or pointers in the right direction. who better to offer you some sound, insightful relationship advice than his older brother. or so you thought.

— originally posted 1 / 28 / 21 on ao3 —

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ: *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*

sasha 3:47 pm hey u down to party tonight?? jean told connie he could get us into another one of the azo parties again

you sighed at the sight of the notifications on your phone from its place on the passenger's seat, pensively drumming your fingers on your steering wheel. the most recent party of the most popular fraternity chapter on your campus you'd attended had been the last party you'd subjected yourself to attending—the halloween party where you'd gotten ditched out and subsequently cheated on. though you could admit that it had been fun in the moment, especially when you had caught the struggle between sasha and historia when she saw your roommate snap a picture of her kissing the standoffish sophomore that always helped her with her english lit homework, ymir, rather than the fraternity guy she was meant to be with.

the memory of that night, at least the time before you'd realized your boyfriend and his annoyingly attractive best friend were nowhere to be found, made you consider. classes did start back up next week, and the most eventful thing you'd done over the break was your quaint little family get-together for new year's eve—and your two rendezvous with zeke, meetings that you were slowly beginning to feel more and more skeptical about as time went on—and you were sure that your second semester would drown you in work just as much—if not more—than you'd had in your first semester. so as soon as you came to a stop at a red light, you picked your phone up to shoot her back a message, laughing to yourself when she replied instantly.

you 3:51 pm party on a wednesday? really?

sasha 3:51 pm come onnnn please??? i heard nikos gonna be there! ur rlly gonna make me go all alone??

so that was why she wanted to go, to see the foreign culinary major that somehow always managed to send her back to the dorm with a large plate of food and a blinding smile plastered on her face for at least the next hour. you were honestly surprised that they hadn't gotten together yet, considering how many common interests they'd shared.

a pleasant thought suddenly popped into your head, the thought that she was probably asking you because mikasa had already declined, meaning that she wouldn't be in attendance. armin was out in turkey with eren, ensuring his absence. that fact made you feel a bit less anxious about accepting sasha's invitation. you could catch up with the friends you'd been unable to see while you were off-campus—or too swamped with work to be able to reach out to—let loose one last time before you were trapped back in the monotonous cycle of working, sleeping, crying, and eating for the next couple months until spring break. your mind had been made up.

you 3:52 pm fine. i'll go as moral support. but no promises u won't have to babysit after you've had ur fun with nikolo this break has been rough for me lol

sasha 3:53 pm oh god my i loveyou so much already picking out our outfits

you chuckled to yourself, slipping your phone into the cupholder as the brake lights of the car in front of you flashed off and you eased your foot onto the gas. you made it back to the dorm relatively quickly, sasha more than elated to see you even though you didn't have any food to bring back for her. and just as her text message had read, she'd already laid out one of your nicer dresses and a set of heels that didn't absolutely kill your feet by the end of the night by your bed, digging through the closet with a pile of discarded clothes growing on the floor.

"thanks sash," you giggled, "but don't you think it's a little to be getting ready? what time's the party?"

"connie told me seven-thirty, but jean said for us to come an hour later so we aren't the only ones there." she spoke over her shoulder, huffing as she tossed another piece of clothing aside, "but i wanna look good! i'm gonna hop in the shower as soon as i find the right thing to wear."

holding out your dress before you, you frowned. it was simple, black and made of a sheer, clingy material with lace accents decorating the low neckline, thin straps that bared the entirety of your shoulders and a modest amount of cleavage. it was one of your favorites, but the half-healed bruises scattered across the skin that would be exposed by it wasn't ideal.

"oh, don't forget to take a cheap coat that you don't mind forgetting. it's kinda chilly out, and i always end up losing track of mine during the night."

you let out a breath of relief, remembering that covering up a bit more would be weather appropriate. "yeah, i'll wear a long-sleeved undershirt and something light on top." perfect.

you waited until sasha had gathered her toiletries and scurried off to the nearest bathroom to change clothes, feeling your face heat up at the thought of zeke, the initial deep pigmentation having faded out over the last two days but still a very visible shade of faint red. you were fully dressed upon your roommate's return, earning an excited slew of compliments from her as she wrapped up her hair in a towel and settled down beside you to get started on her makeup.

you were actually grateful for how early she'd insisted on getting ready considering how long she'd agonized over her eyeliner, or how many times she'd applied and removed her lashes, complaining that "something was off" or "it just didn't look right". your suggested time of arrival came in no time at all, and by then sasha was more than eager to start rushing you despite the pace she'd been moving at earlier.

"hurry!! if niko brings food, i don't wanna get there by the time it's all gone!" she whined, jiggling the doorknob to your room impatiently, "for the thanksgiving party, he brought a charcuterie board with all these nice cheeses on it and it was so good, he looked so happy watching me eat it, it was so cute!"

you chuckled softly at her enthusiasm, shoving the last of your things into your clutch, zipping up your phone in the small inner pocket to insure that you didn't drop it and forget on the floor of someone's house this time. "i'm sure that even if we got there late, he'd set aside plenty of food for you."

the walk to the fraternity's designated house was made much shorter by sasha's insistence, practically dragging you along by the wrist the whole way at a near jog. you couldn't deny that you were feeling a bit nervous about the whole ordeal, knowing that you would have sasha, connie, and jean at the very least, but unaware as to what you would really do besides mill around. at the halloween party, you'd been able to play the variety of drinking games that had been set out for the guests with eren and his friends, but now you weren't entirely sure who to stick to for the majority of the night.

you didn't want to bother jean or connie after they'd gotten secured you an invite, and you were sure that sasha was expecting to be able to spend some time alone with the guy she'd came to see in the first place, meaning you'd have to spend a majority of the night alone, or the unfavorable option of mingling with unfamiliar people. but you realized that was a pill you'd have to swallow as you approached the steps of the house, nearly tripping up over your feet from the speed that sasha was hauling you along at, watching her furiously knock at the door.

there were people wandering about in the yard, some on their phones, most likely waiting for their own friends to arrive, and a smoky stench of something that definitely wasn't just tobacco wafting from the group of men camped out on the porch murmuring amongst each other. you could hear the volume of the music inside the house, almost able to feel it thrumming across the floor if you focused enough.

"thomas!" she exclaimed at the sight of a younger-looking blonde boy when the door opened, whose existence you honestly had no idea about until just now, grinning so broadly it made your own cheeks hurt for her, "jean invited us!"

"oh, come right in." he beamed right back, calling loudly over his shoulder, "yo, jean, your friends are here!"

the inside of the house looked just as you expected, already crowded to max capacity, jean having to maneuver past the throng of people gathered near the front to approach the two of you. "damn, i feel like i haven't seen you in forever." he did his best to speak over the music, wrapping you up in a friendly squeeze, "glad to see you could finally make it." he turned to sasha. "niko's already in the kitchen, by the way. asked when you were coming just a few minutes ago."

sasha's face lit up with glee, turning to you, silently asking for permission to go off on her own as if you could ever deny her and her overly-eager expression. "go get 'em, tiger." you smiled, giving her a few pats on her shoulder to send her off on her way, watching her disappear into the crowd in record time.

but before apprehension of her absence could set in, you felt jean's arm sling around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. "c'mon, you didn't think i was gonna ditch out and let you hang alone all night?" you giggled, turning your head up to look at him properly for the first time.

you'd first met jean in your statistics class, an unfortunate requirement for your major of choice, and initially bonded over your mutual connection through sasha. they'd been good friends in high school, and you'd just moved into a room for at least the next year with her, so you figured it'd do you well to have someone who could get you in her good graces in the event that you two didn't get along. but, thankfully, you two were just fine on your own, and sasha and jean became your first friends outside of the small group you and eren shared.

the only real conflict of interest between the two of you seemed to be your aforementioned boyfriend, and you couldn't really be upset at him for that. eren could be difficult to get along with even at the best of times, he wasn't a terrible person—at least before he'd cheated—but he wasn't exactly the most friendly either.

"is this piercing new?" you asked, reaching up to brush your thumb over the small earring hugging the shell of jean's ear.

"yeah, got it for new year's. pretty hot, right?" you snorted, earning a grin from him, "by the way, if you need to use the bathroom just tell me, the one on the main floor is fucking filthy. and also probably has no toilet paper."

"will do." you could feel the tension ebbing away in his company, at least when you ignored the annoyed glances other girls were sending your way when they noticed his arm around you, "so, what's on the menu for tonight?"

"well, we probably have every kind of alcohol known to man," he said, leaning down to speak into your ear as he began to guide you through the crowded first floor, "beer kegs are out back, junk food and all the inexpensive shit is in the kitchen." he stopped at the opening to a hallway, smile evident in his voice. "but i'm feeling pretty generous tonight, so if you want some of the good stuff we have stashed, just say the word."

"wow, such a gentleman. do you say that to every girl that comes in?" you playfully replied, thankfully far enough away from the music now that you didn't have to talk at nearly a shout.

"only the ones i like." he added a terribly over-exaggerated wink, earning another small laugh from you, "so, what'll it be? vodka, tequila, or triple sec?"

you blinked up at him. "that's it? when you said 'good stuff', i imagined a little more variety."

"beggars can't be choosers, sweetheart. and anyways we're a frat, not a restaurant, so either take your pick or go enjoy some cheap wine while you watch nikolo and sasha drool over each other."

you rolled your eyes, feigning anger in the face of his attitude, huffing out your answer. "surprise me then, frat boy."

"good answer." he said with a grin, "wait here."

he disappeared down the hall, leaving you to stare in silence at the wall before you and listen to the barely muffled sounds of the party going on just a few meters away. you opened up your clutch to fish out your phone, opening it to find your text conversation still open, catching a glimpse of connie's name. you felt a little guilty that you'd almost forgotten about his expected presence, seeing as he had messaged you and you hadn't heard anything from sasha or jean yet. you decided to shoot him a quick text letting him know that you and sasha had arrived, not surprised when he didn't respond as quickly as he usually did, knowing that he was already wrapped up in getting high out of his mind somewhere here or doing so elsewhere.

you opted to kill time tapping through your feed, making it a point to quickly scroll past any posts with armin's handle attached to them. the thought of eren having fun halfway across the world was both pleasant and disheartening at the same time. you felt stupid for still clinging on to the second thoughts about ending things the second he got back. sure, all the dots connected suspiciously well to create a picture that led to the clear conclusion of cheating, but eren wasn't good at hiding things. you remembered the time in your junior year when he'd barely been able to keep your surprise party that your friends had organized you a secret before one of them slipped up about it and exonerated him from blame, and you couldn't help but ask yourself if he was really capable of hiding such a terrible deed when he couldn't even conceal the harmless types of secrets from you.

the more confrontational part of you said that that was ages ago, that both you and him had changed so much since your time in high school, and maybe one of those changes was what made him put so much distance between the two of you these last months rather than hang around you and risk airing out his dirty laundry. you knew you should be angry with him, you would be more than right to be angry with him, but you force yourself to stop clinging to the simpler times, the days when he'd look at you like you'd put the stars in the sky and said all he ever wanted to do was be around you. you couldn't believe how much had changed in so little time.

"ta-da!" jean's voice interrupted your self-pity, a tall plastic cup suddenly occupying your vision, "long island iced tea for the lady. with a straw."

"christ, jean, are you trying to kill me?" you guffawed, taking the cup from him anyways, "my first real party in months and this is what you start me off with?"

"at least give it a try! after i took all that time to make it for you.." he furrowed his brows at you, only relaxing after you took a tentative sip. it was surprisingly not as strong as you thought it would be, a little on the sweeter side, but it served as a good distraction for the burn of five different alcohols sliding down your throat. "pretty good, isn't it?"

"meh. five out of ten." you snarked, giggling around the straw between your lips.

"typical," he lamented, clutching his hands over his heart, "all you and sasha ever do is use me."

"don't lie to yourself, jean. you love us."

you didn't know if it was the dim lighting casting a shadow over his face, but you could swear that you saw his cheeks flush at your assertion. "anyways.. speaking of love, you still dating that asshole? eric?"

"eren." you corrected, laughing at the error, "and, well, it's complicated."

"complicated? then i'm assuming he fucked up big time, considering he's not even here with you this time around."

you took a long sip of your drink, fiddling with the bendy part of your straw, the thought of his infidelity weighing heavily on your heart. "well he'd probably be here if he wasn't out of town, he's been planning to take his trip for a while now.."

jean shot you a displeased look. "i seriously don't know how you put up with that guy, you're selling yourself short honestly. planning on breaking up with him anytime soon?"

you cast your gaze to the floor, thankful that the warmth of the alcohol in your stomach was helping to ease the cool hollowness settling deep into your chest. "oh hush. you don't even know the whole story, jean."

"well i know enough. if you're in the market for any new guys, i'll scout out someone nice for you." you scoffed at his offer, but didn't outright deny it either, unable to help smiling along with him when he smirked and nodded over to the party in the other room, "now, come play me in beer pong, then you'll really have something to complain about."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

zeke could confidently say that his night had been utterly unremarkable.

another quiet day spent working at the library, where he'd actually glanced at the door more times than he was willing to admit with the hope that it would be you walking in. he'd actually been quite tempted to message you, to ask what you were doing, if you had anywhere between two and three so that maybe he could see you, but he'd ultimately decided against it. he couldn't quite figure out the exact cause of his newly-found infatuation with you, but the rationality of it didn't concern him as much as it probably should've, he was simply pleased to relive the very recent memories of your encounters together and anticipate your next meeting—at least until his younger brother returned.

eren had attempted to goad a reaction out of him with an assortment of unsavory texts calling him just about every name in the book, a constant stream of questions asking why he did it, or what he'd done to deserve such a thing, and even a few desperate pleas begging him to say that it wasn't really you. of course, he'd ignored all of them, and he wondered if eren was trying to contact you as well, knowing that you wouldn't be able to see the messages even if that was the case, though still curious nonetheless.

but for the moment, he was lounging at his usual downtown bar, seated in a booth beside reiner and across from porco at their rescheduled night out, since both marcel and porco were unable to make it yesterday, the latter sulking after his noisy attempt to flag down the waitress ended in failure.

"is marcel actually gonna make it tonight?" reiner asked, plucking a stick of celery from the appetizer platter in the middle of the table.

"no clue." porco replied, sipping his mojito, "said he got caught up at work again, so either the let down text is gonna come any minute now, or he's gonna show up for an hour and then disappear."

zeke chuckled. "post-marriage life sure is tough, i guess."

"you can say that again. he's always calling me, freaking about the idea of kids and his mortgage and stuff that i didn't even think about until he complained about it, scary shit."

"you say that like you're not two years away from being his age."

porco began what was sure to be one of his smart-ass replies, but the waitress had finally approached their booth, hiding her annoyance with his friend with a forced smile as she took the orders for their entrées. zeke pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans when he felt it buzz, feeling the slightest hint of disappointment by the fact that it wasn't you.

"who is it? your new girlfriend?" reiner grumbled, smirking when porco shot up in his seat.

"girlfriend?!" he exclaimed far too loudly.

"yup. zeke didn't tell you he's dating a high-schooler?"

so much for "your business", zeke thought to himself. "oh, fuck off. she's in college." he frowned at his roommate, only met with another tired expression of disappointment.

"just barely." reiner turned back to the man across the table, "it's one of his brother's ex-girlfriends too."

porco stared at him incredulously, eyes wide and judgmental, falling back against the cushion of the seat with a low whistle. "shit zeke.. that's kinda fucked up, don't you think?" he seemed uncomfortable by the unexpected revelation, "you're almost thirty and you're screwing around with someone who's probably not even twenty? is this an afraid-of-getting-old thing? mid-life crisis??"

"she's an adult, she can make her own choices." zeke didn't appreciate the sudden scrutiny, finishing off his old fashioned in the hopes that the bourbon would wash away the self-conscious feeling settling unpleasantly in his gut, "not my fault that her choice happens to be wanting to be around me rather than the guys her age."

"what ever happened to you and pieck? she's hot—"

"and actually over the legal drinking age."

both porco and zeke pointedly ignored reiner's interaction as the former continued. "—i thought it was working out between you two.. what happened?"

zeke shrugged. "just wasn't the right fit for me. but you liked her, didn't you? before we had our thing." he looked up at his friend, forcing a casual grin, "maybe you could give that shot now."

he felt a bit more at ease seeing porco's ears and cheeks flush red, now fiddling with the lime garnish on the rim of his glass. "we still talk here and there.. i don't really know much about what she's up to these days."

before he could answer with more words of encouragement that detracted from the previous, morally-incriminating topic, his phone began to vibrate, and he felt his heart leap into his throat at the sight of your name on the screen. "sorry, gotta take this."

he tugged on his jacket and slid out of the booth, ignoring reiner's chastising glance and porco's bewildered look, passing the waitress who was now carrying a platter with their food and refills on his way out. the cool night breeze was refreshing in comparison to the awkward, almost cramped atmosphere that had developed over their discussion, his breath coming is foggy puffs in the chilled, january air as he pressed the answer button. immediately upon raising the phone to his ear, he was met with a blurred assortment of background noise, able to discern the muffled sound of music and the sound of footsteps outside of whatever room you were in.

"hello?"

"oh, zeke, you answered!!" he could hear in your voice that you were clearly intoxicated, much more than you had been when you were at his house, words stringing together and ending syllables unnecessarily drawn out.

he felt uncharacteristically worried at the realization that you were at a party, one that sounded quite large and crowded, most likely crawling with unsavory individuals that he knew prowled around those sorts of events when he himself was in college. "are you alright? where are you right now? do you need me to pick you up?"

zeke was already digging around in his coat pocket to check if he had his keys, more than prepared to take off without his meal or saying goodbye to his friends inside. "'m at a party on campus, 's okay. in the bathroom. just thinking."

zeke didn't feel eased at all at the sound of loud knocking coming from somewhere, hearing you becoming distant for a moment as you presumably pulled the phone away from your ear to call out that the bathroom was occupied. there was shuffling on the other line, then silence for a short moment. "can i ask you something?"

zeke frowned. the idea of not being able to know who was monitoring you in this state wasn't sitting well with him. "go ahead."

"but don't call me stupid, ok? i already know it's a stupid question, but i still wanna ask it."

"there's no such thing as stupid questions." he assured you, ignoring the buzz of a text notification, most likely porco or reiner telling him to come back in before the burger he ordered got cold.

"do i really have to break up with eren?"

zeke felt something odd flicker in his chest, that unfamiliar feeling he'd felt when he caught you staring at you and his brother's one-sided chat logs, but yet the affirmative answer he thought he would be able to give with no problem sat on the tip of his tongue, undelivered. he thought back to that face reiner had made when he told him who you were, and porco's hesitant words trying to rationalize his actions but ultimately failing to do so.

zeke didn't understand why he felt so conflicted all of a sudden. this was meant to be a simple ordeal, one where he got what he needed to teach eren a lesson and moved on with his life. but now here he was, concerned about your whereabouts, focusing hard enough on your muddled words that he managed to catch the wobble in your voice that betrayed your own state of emotional unrest. he realized a moment too late that he hadn't said anything, hearing a small sniffle on your end before we began speaking.

"god, i can't believe i said that out loud, you must really think i'm dumb r'now, but.. i just can't let go of what we had." he was sure that you were crying now. "i keep thinking about what you said, an' you're right. he's been an ass to me, he practically ignored me for, like, three months, probably fuckin' cheated on me with his hot best friend, so i can't understand why i just wanna keep trying to fix things... and its so confusing 'cause everyone just keeps telling me to enjoy myself an' have fun, but i have no idea what i even want anymore, and i don't even know what we are right now and i can't fuckin' believe i cheated on my boyfriend with his fuckin' older brother and i don't know what i'd ever do if he found out."

by the end of it, you were letting out small, hiccuped sobs, breath fast and uneven just as it had been the night he'd invited you over. he honestly didn't know what to say, listening to you cry, staring at the steam of his breath as it dissipated out into the night. you were a good person, someone who was undeserving of such treatment from either him or eren, but it was simply an unfortunate coincidence that you had been caught in the fray.

he took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts, preparing to deliver an affirmation similar to the one he'd given you a few days ago when you first laid all your relationship troubles out on the table, but there was a rapid, more insistent knocking at the bathroom door on your end. he could hear a female voice calling out your name, and the jiggling of the door knob.

"hold on," you paused, sniffling, "it's my roommate."

you steadied yourself enough to say that, tossing the phone somewhere before he heard the sound of the door unlocking. "there you are!! are you seriously wasted already? it's only, like, eleven?! why are you crying???" your roommate sounded tipsy, but nowhere near as intoxicated as you currently were, which eased zeke's initial worry, "jean! can you c'mere for a sec! wait, were you calling someone?"

there was a brief pause, and zeke could practically see your tiny nod and teary eyes in his head, then heels clicking over tile and the sound of the phone being lifted, followed by a hurried, "hey, this is her roommate! she's fine, gotta go!"

then silence, just him and the faint noise coming from inside the bar behind him. he didn't know what to think. from the sounds of it, it seemed like your friends were taking care of you for the time being, friends who names he vaguely remembered you speaking of when you'd been detailing your time at the halloween party—people that were unfamiliar to him, people he wasn't sure that he could trust. and a small part of him, a tiny voice at the back of his head, scoffed at his flimsy mask of worry that barely hid the true emotion, his possessive nature, driving his desire to go pick you up and bring you back to the apartment to take care of so you'd have to be there with him another morning with your thankful gazes and blunt, half-awake words.

he knew he was in no place to begin laying judgement at these unknown people in your life considering what he'd done, but it was an innate sort of feeling, the thought that always clouded his mind when he laid eyes on people that were younger than him, that he knew more than them, that somehow he would always be above them in an invisible hierarchy. that same feeling that he felt when he found himself looking down at you.

"zeke?" a warm, friendly voice broke him out of his thoughts, his eyes turning up from the ground to find a tired-looking marcel standing before him, "what are you doing out here by yourself?"

"smoke break." the lie slipped between his lips before he even thought of the fact that there was no cigarette between his fingers, no scent of smoke in the air or clinging to his clothes, "glad you could make it, everyone's inside. pretty sure porco already ordered you something."

but instead of immediately heading inside for zeke to come after him, marcel stood for a moment, lips drawing back and eyebrows knitting into a concerned expression. "is everything okay?"

zeke thought for a moment, giving a non-committal shrug in response.

"still having family troubles?"

despite having been quite fixated on his negative feelings revolving his own younger brother for the last few days, zeke had almost pushed out a majority of the sordid details of the entire situation out of his head, which now seemed to all flood back with such a short, simple question.

"you could say that." zeke scratched the back of his neck, now wishing he'd actually had a cigarette to take his mind off of all these turbulent thoughts, "all the arguing and shit subsided already, but..."

"anything from your dad?" marcel's voice was almost tentative asking that, frowning when zeke said nothing, "sorry.. didn't mean to be insensitive about it."

"it's not insensitive. just," he swallowed, tucking his phone back into his pocket and reaching out to push open the bar door, a silent, less embarrassing way to signal that he no longer wanted to talk about it anymore, "just kind of fresh. that's all."

they both stood in silence for a moment, marcel's eyes wandering his face, features expressing a clear concern, but thankfully, he didn't push the issue any further, simply following him inside like zeke wished he would've done minutes earlier to save him the trouble, proceeding to the booth housing their friends. the conversation didn't wander back to the topic of him and his morally dubious relations nor his current familial situation, much to his relief, making it much easier for him to just allow the conversation to flow around him, finding himself not having much of an appetite or desire to speak much with so much on his mind.

for a moment, zeke wondered to himself if this was a punishment from the universe, feeling so downtrodden on what was usually one of his more enjoyable nights in the week. not to say that they were always amazing to be around, but spending time with porco, reiner, marcel, and sometimes bertholdt made up most of the meaningful social interactions he had, and to have lost out on it today of all days just seemed like some odd form of karmic justice as a result of him behaving so selfishly.

but he held out for the rest of the evening anyways, going through more drinks that he probably should've, finding easier to tune in to porco and reiner's usual bickering, marcel's attempts to quell them, the ambient sound of bustling waiters and clinking glasses and plates to bury down any thought of you or his family or what was to come at the end of the week, the consequences with much more magnitude in his life than an just an unpleasant night out.

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ: *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*

previous chapter⥽

#zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager x you #snk zeke #snk x reader #snk x you #snk x reader smut #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x reader smut #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #m.nsfw

113 notes · View notes

noladyme · 4 years ago

Text

La Cuervo - Epilogue

We’ve come to the end of the story of Angel and Nina. Thank you to everyone who commented, reblogged and liked. Every one of you inspired me to keep writing. Thank you for reading.

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on, on Mayans M.C., are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambiguous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

Epilogue.

It was an especially cloudy day for a bike-ride. He looked up at the sky, and prayed to his mother it wouldn’t rain. It was already too cold for short sleeves, and he regretted not having listened when he’d been told to put on a hoodie under his cut that morning. The precious cargo behind him shifted in her seat. The bump pressed against his back was restless as well, he felt; from the tiny kicks he was receiving to his kidneys. “You alright?”, Angel called over his shoulder. “Yeah… she’s just antsy…”, Nina replied. “We’re almost there”, he smiled. “Good. I gotta pee”. “Shit. Again?”. “Blame your daughter”, she chuckled. “Be nice to your mama, chiquita!”, Angel chuckled, addressing the cantaloupe-sized treasure in his amor’s belly.

Charming was a nice place. He could understand why Nina loved it there, but the stares their caravan was getting made him uncomfortable. The people in the small town looked at him and his brother’s as if they were gods – which in and of itself he didn’t mind – but it was a lot different than what he was used to from Santo Padre, where the Mayans were accepted and even feared; but not looked to as saviors and protectors, as the Sons of Anarchy were in Charming. His discomfort came from realizing that he’d like to be viewed as the Sons were here, back home. Becoming a Mayan had originally been about the pussy and the bikes; but lately, he felt the need to make a difference to the people in his community. Help the people who needed it; like the undocumented immigrants and the people trying to cross the border for a better life. Nina was doing what she could for those the club had gotten over so far, but it was still something they needed to keep quiet about – especially if he wanted to avoid seeing his daughter grow up from behind a plexiglass window.

They drove up to what looked like a warehouse-building; but he knew was the home of CaraCara. Pulling up next to EZ’s bike, he smiled as his brother gave Nina a hand to get off his own. “Centre of gravity seems a bit off, hermanita”, EZ chuckled. “Screw you… And move! I gotta pee…”, she sneered, and sprang for the nearest door of the warehouse. The brand-new Mayan patch moved up and down on EZ’s back, as he laughed; watching her run. Angel smiled at the sight, before patting his brother’s shoulder. “My kids got some kick”, he said. “Reina del baile, huh?”, EZ smiled. “You’re gonna have to keep an eye on her when she’s older”. “She ain’t going out dancing until she’s as old as pap’”, Angel declared. “Yo! Are you two gonna keep staring at the pregnant lady run; or are you gonna come inside?”, Bishop called after them. The two of them grinned, and followed their patch-brothers inside the large building.

They were greeted by Chibs, Happy and Tig; the latter having to tear himself away from a strikingly tall woman, to come welcome them. The woman stayed by the bar in the large room, talking quietly with a pretty blonde woman behind it. Once the initial back and forth between the presidents were over, Chibs turned to Angel, and pulled him in for a friendly half-hug. “Did you forget someone in San Pad?”, the SAMCRO president asked. “Nah, man. She’s going to the bathroom every 45 minutes”, Angel chuckled. “Filip!”, Nina called out from behind them, and Angel turned around to watch her make a waddling run over to her Charming brothers. Once they’d all embraced, Happy looked down at Nina’s belly. “You did this?”, he asked Angel. “So she tells me”, Angel grinned. Nina punched his shoulder, making him have to take a few steps back. Getting knocked up had oddly enough made her even stronger than usual. “You knew I was pregnant”, she said. “Yeah, but…”. Chibs blew out a deep breath. “You’re huge, luv’!”. “I’m not that big…”, Nina whimpered. Angel walked up behind her, and kissed her temple. “You’re beautiful, mami”, he smiled, before looking to the Sons. “You told me to get her to quit smoking”, he grinned, and rubbed his hand protectively over Nina’s bump. “Yeah, but it seems like you took an alternative approach to that, man”, Tig chuckled.

Nina was shifting on her feet. “You gotta pee again?”, Angel asked. “No… Just gotta sit down. My feet are killing me”. He led her over to sit on the couch that looked the least like it had been used as a prop, in one of the movies produced by CaraCara. The tall woman and the blonde came over to greet Nina, and the three of them hugged each other tightly; with both of the other women stroking Nina’s belly, and cooing at it. “I’m Venus”, the tall woman said, and reached out her hand to him. “And I’m guessing you’re Angel… That’s a lovely name”. “Stop flirting with my old man”, Nina grinned. “You got your own!”. “I sure do!”, Venus said, and held out her hand; proudly displaying an engagement ring. “Oh my god!”, Nina exclaimed. “Congrats!”. She hugged Venus tightly again. “I’m Lyla”, the blonde said, and smiled at Angel. “Nice to meet you”, he replied.

Angel let the three women catch up, and walked over to talk to the other men. “The estrogen-level is through the roof in here!”, Creeper grinned. “That’s just the smell of cheap perfume and artificial sperm”, Chibs said. “Artificial?”, Gilly said. “You’d be surprised how many porn-actors find it hard to produce actual cum, after 13 takes; no matter how hot the actress”, Happy laughed. “I don’t think I’d find it that hard”, Coco smirked. The door opened, and a sea of beautiful women entered the warehouse. “Feel free to give it a shot”, Tig said to the wide-eyed Mayan.

“I thought this was supposed to be a business-meeting. Not a party”, Taza said. “Who says we can’t mix the two?”, Chibs said. “But you’re right. We should get to it”. Tig turned towards the three women on the couch. “Muffin, it’s time!”, he called out. Nina frowned, but let herself be pulled to her feet by the two others. Angel sprang over to take her arm. “Are you ok, cuervo?”, he muttered. “Yeah. Let’s just get this over with”, Nina sighed.

---

“Thanks for coming all the way up here”, Chibs said from the head of the table, in the smaller room, connected to the studio. “Thank you for agreeing not to do it at your clubhouse”, Bishop said. “This one’s getting too heavy to get up the stairs behind the ice-cream shop”. He nodded towards Nina. “Go fuck yourself, Bish’”, she grunted from next to Angel. Bishop sent her a warm smile, before meeting Angel’s eyes. They both knew he wasn’t wrong. Nina had trouble even getting out of bed at this point; which Angel didn’t mind. Pregnancy sex had been even hotter than he’d imagined. “Nina’s twelve months are over. We think it’s time to discuss what happens from here on out”, Chibs said. Angel shifted in his seat, and cleared his throat. “I think it’s obvious what’s gonna happen”, he said. “She’s staying in San Pad”. He put his hand on Nina’s bump, and stroked it. “Charming is her home”, Happy said. “She’s still SAMCRO family”. “She’s Mayan family too… And she’s got my family growing in her”, Angel growled. “We need niña down south”, Coco said. “She’s the only one of the girls back home who knows how to make a proper whiskey-sour”, Riz shrugged. “What about her life here? Her friends, her job at the shop?”, Tig said.

“What about we ask Nina what she wants?”, Nina exclaimed with a huff. “I’m not property…”. Chibs and Bishop looked solemnly at each other for a long moment, before both of them broke into large grins. “We’re just fucking with you, mija!”, Bishop said. All the Mayans and Sons broke out in laughter, and Angel had to chew his lips to stop. “We didn’t come up here to talk about you coming back, ma’”, he said. Nina scowled deeply at him; giving him that cute look that made him both cringe from the promise of being chewed out later on, and simultaneously made him want to rip off her clothes, and screw her brains out. Nina was hot when she was angry. “Then, why?”, she growled.

Angel turned in his seat, and helped Nina turn in hers; with a firm hold of her hips. “I can’t marry you, without permission from your brothers… All of them”, he said. Nina’s eyes widened. “You… what?”. “You got my kid in there. And I love you”, Angel said, and laid a hand on her belly. “I wanna marry you… If you’re good with that”. Nina seemed – for once – speechless. His heart jumped up into his throat. “Nina? Mami, talk to me…”. “I’m… yeah. Uh huh… We can do that”, she squeaked. Angel let out a sigh of relief. “Thank fuck… You had me worried”, he smiled. He saw a tear at the corner of Nina’s eye, and wiped it away quickly.

He put his hand to the back of her head, and pulled her in for a kiss; when someone cleared their throat. “We haven’t agreed yet”, Tig said. “He needs all of our go-aheads”, Hank said. “All of your brothers; remember?”. “We gotta vote on this shit”, EZ smirked. For a short moment, Angel considered smacking his brother across the head, but he decided against it. He needed a unanimous yes, and EZ was actually one of the few patches he was concerned about voting against him. “Then let’s do it”, he said. Chibs raised a brow at him. “You; get out”, he said. “What?”. “Salir de la habitación, amigo”, the SAMCRO president reiterated. Nina shot him a death-glare, and squeezed Angel’s hand. “You said your peace; now let the rest of us decide if we’re gonna agree to this unholy union”. Angel got to his feet and was about to help Nina up. “Not you, sweetheart”, Taza said. “We need your take on this as well”. Angel swallowed thickly, and looked at Nina. She gave him a warm smile, which didn’t reach her eyes, and he had to force his feet to move, to leave the room.

Once outside, Angel closed the door behind him. The large studio space had filled up with hangarounds – male and female – and pornstars he recognized from movies he’d watched in the past. The one’s he’d enjoy these days weren’t CaraCara productions, because Nina didn’t like watching people she knew as friends having sex. Instead, they’d watch the mini-productions they made themselves. Lyla came over to him with a cold beer, and patted his shoulder. “The party’s gonna be pretty PG for now. Wendy’s coming in with the boys for a few hours”, she said. “After that, I can’t promise there won’t be full frontal nudity”. Angel chuckled. “I didn’t know her nephews were coming”, he said. “It was a surprise. They haven’t been back in Charming since…”. Lyla cut herself off, and seemed to be suppressing a bad memory. “Nina’s brother… Jackson. He was a good guy, huh?”. “The best… And he loved her”, Lyla said. “If it wasn’t for the fact that they didn’t look alike, you’d never guess they weren’t blood-related”. “They were alike?”. “Uh huh”, Lyla nodded fervently. “Like two peas in a pod. And she was as protective of him as he was of her”.

A dirty-blonde woman came in to the warehouse, with two boys in tow. The youngest had dark hair, while his brother was blonde. The blonde boy – in his pre-teens – ran over to Venus, and sprang into her arms; clearly enjoying resting his head against her ample breasts. The brown-haired boy – about 7 or 8 years old – clung to who Angel figured was Wendy. She shot Venus a smile, and walked over to Lyla. “This him, then?”, Wendy asked, and gave Angel a once over. “Yup”, Lyla said. “Angel, this is Wendy; and the cutie-pie down here…”. She crouched down, and ruffled the boy’s hair. “This is Thomas. Jackson’s youngest”. “Casanova over there is Abel”, Wendy grinned. Abel stood as wide-eyed as Coco had, at the sight of the beautiful women surrounding him. “And I’m Wendy”. “Good to meet you”, Angel said. He stuck out his hand to Thomas. “Hey, man. I’m Angel”. “Are you the one who knocked up my aunt Nina?”, Thomas asked. Angel was taken aback at the kid’s bluntness. “I… Yeah”, he said. Thomas narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you gonna marry her? My dad married my other mom after I was born. You’re supposed to marry someone if you get them pregnant”. “I’m planning to”, Angel said. “If you’ll let me”. “I’ll think about it”, Thomas said.

Both Wendy and Lyla laughed, and then gave each other a warm hug. “If you wanna surprise her, you should probably go into my office”, Lyla said. “She’ll be out in a few”. Abel looked at the people in the room. “I wanna stay out here”, he declared; as fascinated as his brother was at all the women. “You’re just like your dad”, Wendy sighed. “Go on, Tommy. I got movies in there for you”, Lyla said, before looking at Wendy. “Disney”, she added. Wendy smiled, and dragged Thomas away. She nabbed Abel out of the lap of a scantily clad brunette; and the three of them went into a back office, in the corner of the building.

Angel looked at the door to where the meeting regarding the future of his family was being held behind, and felt his nerves starting to get to him. They’d taken too long already; the vote shouldn’t be that difficult. He took out his pack of smokes, and was about to light up, when Lyla put a hand on his lower arm. “Please go outside for that. I’m trying to keep the studio smoke-free”. “Yeah, sure… Sorry”, Angel muttered, and hurried towards the exit.

Once outside he began pacing back and forth. One cigarette turned in to two, which then turned in to three; and still no one had come to tell him what the decision of the clubs was. He was about to say fuck it, and stomped out his smoke, to walk back inside, and demand an answer; when Nina came outside. She walked over to him with a solemn expression on her face; and in that moment, Angel’s heart broke. “I’m sorry…”, she said. Angel felt rage building in him. Here was his endgame – the one woman he would ever be able to fully give himself to, and the mother of his child – and he couldn’t have her, because of a bunch of fucking bikers. He grabbed Nina’s hand, and tried pulling her towards his bike. “Fuck this shit. We’re out of here. We’ll go north… Like Canada, or something. I’ll marry you there… I ain’t letting them…”. Nina stayed in place, unmoving. “No, Angel… I’m sorry… I know your pap’ would expect me to; but I can’t wear white… It wouldn’t feel right”.

Angel’s jaw dropped, and he looked at Nina with wide eyes. “They said yes?”, he croaked. “Yes…”, Nina said below her breath. “I mean, Happy wanted our first-born as payment; but I told him to shove it”. Angel cupped her face, and stared deep into her eyes, looking for any sign of deceit; finding none. “We’re gonna get married?”, he said. Nina nodded. “We’re gonna get married, mami!”. he threw his arms around her waist, and lifted her up, spinning her around. “Careful!”, Nina giggled. He set her back on the ground, and pulled her in for a deep kiss; feeling like life itself came from the taste of her mouth. “I love you, cuervo”. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Te amo, so… fucking… much!”, he said, leaving kisses on Nina’s lips between each word. “I love you too”, she smiled.

Angel remembered something, and grabbed for the item in his pocket, he’d been keeping there, since his pap’ had given it to him a few days earlier. “Here”, he said, and held out the ring. “This was my mam’s”. Nina took the ring from him, and smiled. “Thank you…”, she said. She held it to her finger, before looking up at him. “Wait, did you wanna…? Or should I just…?”. Angel took her hand in his, and together, they put the ring on her left ring-finger. He pressed another deep kiss to her lips, and then got on his knees; putting his hands on either side of her belly. “I love you, chiquita. You’re the best thing to happen to me since your mama”. He kissed Nina’s tummy, just above her navel, and turned his ear against it, listening to the other love of his life moving around in there.

“Are you two finished?”, Chibs called from the doorway. “Someone’s come to see you, little sister”. Nina frowned in confusion, and Angel smiled brightly; getting to his feet again. He led her in front of her, with his hands on her hips. “Try not to give birth right this moment, mama”, he whispered in her ear, when Lyla opened the door to the office, and Abel and Thomas came out. “Oh… Oh, my god!”, Nina cried out, and ran as fast as she could over to her two nephews. She kissed both of their foreheads, and each boy wiped off the kisses in childish disgust, while she hugged them. “You’re so big!”, Nina croaked, before turning to Wendy, and hugging her. Angel looked on with a full heart, as both of the boys took turns touching her belly.

EZ came up next to him, and patted his back. “Congratulations, Angel”, he said. Angel turned, and gave his brother a warm hug. “Thanks, man…”, he said.

---

A little while later, Angel was seated next to his fiancée on the couch. Someone had produced a box of old photographs of club-parties through the ages. Nina was groaning in embarrassment, as Chibs held out a picture of herself and him, where the Son was holding up his fingers in a cross at Nina, who was sporting a large pimple on her forehead. “The Creature of the Black Lagoon!”, Chibs laughed. “Funny…”, Nina smiled sarcastically, and ripped the photo out of his hands. Angel snatched it from her, and put it in his cut pocket. “I’m keeping this, cuervo”. “Why?”, she frowned. “Blackmail… Maybe you’ll stop trying to cook for me”. “Kiss my ass”, she retorted. “Gladly”, Angel said, and kissed her temple.

Nina picked up an envelope full of pictures, and pulled them out, to look through them. “What’s this?”, she said. Angel grabbed the pile of photographs. A grin spread on his face. The telltale patch of the Mayan mask sprang into his eyes, on the back of a biker; who’d turned his face towards the camera. It was Bishop; who was sporting a shorter beard, but a no less intimidating mustache. “Wow, this was years ago…”, he chuckled. “San Bernardino, right?”, he asked Chibs. “Yeah”, the president nodded. Nina studied the pictures, as Angel flipped them. “What’re the Mayans doing there? Weren’t you rivals?”. Looking at the date in the bottom corner of the picture, Angel shook his head. “Nah. This was just after we became allies. I think this was one of my first parties as a prospect. It was like a club-mixer thing, with a couple of charters from each side, meeting up, and getting wasted in the name of peace…”

He flicked through some more pictures, before reaching one with a tall bearded man in a beanie; a goofy looking biker with a mohawk; and a chubby man, with unruly, curly hair. Angel noticed Nina’s face light up in something resembling recognition. “SAMCRO?”, Angel asked. Nina nodded. “Opie, Juice and Bobby”, she said, smiling softly. “You said you were there?”. “Yeah… I think so”. Angel flicked through some more photographs, and pulled a picture out from near the bottom of the pile. He laughed out loud. “Shit, yeah… Look at that dumbass prospect staring at the camera. He don’t know shit yet…”.

A younger version of himself – though not by many years – was pictured with a tray of shots in hand, looking drunk and smiling goofily, while getting ready to serve a group of Mayans and Sons, who were seated at a table, in the middle of a poker-game. Angel looked happy just to be there, and the prospect flash on his chest looked brand new. “Fuck, man… Look at that hair…!”, he chuckled. He looked at Nina again, expecting her to laugh along with him; but saw that her eyes were full of tears. She was staring at a blonde man; who was seated by the table, shooting the camera a relaxed grin, and reaching for one of the glasses on Angel’s tray. “What’s wrong? My hair don’t look that stupid", Angel said, letting Nina take the photograph from his hands. “Mami? Do you know this guy?”. Angel looked down at the picture with wide eyes. “I remember him… Some big deal in SOA, right…?”. “Jax…”, Nina breathed. “This is him…”. “That’s your brother?”, Angel almost gasped. “I can’t believe I actually met the guy". “Do you remember him?”, Nina asked hopefully.

Angel dug through his memories, wanting nothing but to please her with a heartwarming story. “I was pretty wasted…”, he admitted. “But I remember he was talking about his kids…”. Nina nodded solemnly, seemingly sad, that she couldn’t get anything else out of him. He put his arm around her, and kissed her forehead. Chibs reached across the table, and took the picture. He looked down at it and chuckled. “Of course you don’t remember…”, he said. “But I can’t believe I fucking forgot!”. “What?”, Angel asked. “You were driving that piece of shit Suzuki, and thought you’d get away with sitting on Jackson’s Super Glide, for a picture”. The memory began dawning on Angel, and he instantly cringed. “He caught you, and knocked your fucking lights out! Peace was almost off because of that shit…”. Taza, who’d been chatting with Tig, took the picture from Chibs, and smiled down at it; before handing it back to Angel. “Don’t you remember Angel? We put another three months on your year as prospect for that”.

A clear laughter broke through the sound of the music, and the talking crowd. Angel turned and looked at Nina, whose face was contorted in glee. “Jax told me about that! How some no-name prospect rubbed up on his bike”, she said. “I had to put him in his place… I got him a beer when no one was watching, though”. “Yeah…”, Angel said, letting the corners of his lips rise in a slight smile. "I remember now. He seemed like a good guy”. “He was…”, Nina said. Her brows furrowed for a moment, before she met his eyes. “Do you…? I want to go see him”. Angel had to think for a moment, before he realized what she was saying. “Yeah… Of course”, he said. “You wanna go now?”. Nina nodded fervently, but seemingly nervous that he’d say no.

Angel put the picture in his cut pocket, to keep safe; then got to his feet, and pulled Nina up to stand. “Let’s go”, he said. He looked at the others around the table, and gave them a half smile. “I still need one more person’s blessing”.

---

The sun was about to go down, when they made it to the cemetery. Nina was holding on so hard to Angel’s hand, as they walked down the rows of grave-stones, that he was sure she’d leave marks; but he didn’t say anything – strangely nervous at the situation, and needing her support as much as she needed his. Nina smiled at a few grave-stones they passed, with names like Winston, Knowles and Munson. Angel noticed another stone, with the name John Teller engraved on it. He felt the urge to nod respectfully at it, as Nina stopped for a few seconds, to brush some dead leaves from it.

“It’s up here”, she said in a whisper, and pulled him with her, to a large stone with the Sons of Anarchy A, over the name Jackson Nathaniel Teller. Nina kneeled down in front of it, and held her brother’s helmet in her lap. Giving up on the fight on whether she should use it or not long ago, Angel had added some extra padding to it for her; so that it would at least be safer, than it had been before. “Hi, Jax…”, Nina said. “It’s been a while… I’m sorry about that, but I’ve been kinda busy”. She rubbed her belly protectively. “This is Angel”, she said, and looked up at him, with a warm smile. Angel cleared his throat, unsure what to do. “Hi…”, he muttered. “Yeah, I know… But he’s got a cool bike”, Nina chuckled. Angel frowned in confusion, but decided against commenting on her words. “I kept my promise after all. I’m happy. And everyone is safe… At least, as safe as they can be, as outlaw bikers…”.

She sat quietly for a long moment, and Angel kneeled down next to her; putting an arm around her shoulders. He kissed her check, and tasted the salty taste of her tears on his lips. “You ok?”, he whispered. Nina looked at him, and nodded; a smile on her lips. “Happy tears”, she said, and looked back at the stone. “I went back to school. I’m taking classes to become a paralegal… I wanna try to help the undocumented people the Mayans are moving through the tunnels”. “And she is”, Angel cut in. “She’s doing good work with what she knows, already”. Nina smiled embarrassedly for a moment, before continuing. “I’ve had to take a little break though, ‘cuz of the baby… It’s kind of hard to keep up with online classes, when you gotta pee every 45 minutes. But once she’s here, I‘ll be able to go back part time… I think I’ve found my path, and I have someone holding my hand while I walk it. And we’ve got have a large family – ourlarge family – to support us, whatever might get in our way”.

They were quiet for a moment longer; while Nina brushed her fingertips over the helmet in her lap. “I’ll be ok now, Jax. I promise…”. She lifted the helmet, and pressed a kiss to it, before placing it on the ground in front of the gravestone. She looked at Angel, and wiped her eyes. “Let’s go”.

Angel got to his feet, and went behind Nina, to lift her up to stand. Hand in hand, they began walking back towards the parking lot. “Wait a sec…”, Angel said, and halted. “What?”, Nina said. He pressed a short kiss to her lips. “I’ll be right back”.

He walked back to Jackson’s grave. “Thanks, man… For everything”, he said. He kissed his fingers, and pressed them to the stone; before turning around, and walking back towards to his woman, his daughter, and their future together.

The End.

---

tags: @cole-winchester @doloreschanal

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #ez reyes #coco cruz #sons of anarchy

81 notes · View notes

imagineyourworld · 3 years ago

Note

Omg request for tbb echo with 4 and c from the prompt list??

Hey,

Since I said in my original post that the requests should be either a letter or a number, I'm gonna go ahead and just do 4, I hope that's alright with you.

Love, Charlie

-------

Echo x Genderneutral!Reader

Warnings: Mention of death, sickness (nothing serious)

4. Mutual pining

-------

You still couldn't wrap your head around the fact that the man next to you was Echo. The very same Echo who had first come into the diner you worked at almost two years ago with his brother and had come back whenever he could ever since. Until one day he didn't. That day it was just Fives, an unusual sight without his twin, who sat in the corner occasionally sipping his caf and clearly wishing it were something stronger. During your break you had sat down in his booth and he had told you the news that broke your heart. It wasn't until that moment that you realized you had fallen in love with Echo, and now it was too late. Only it wasn't too late, because exactly one month ago the man you thought you had lost forever walked into the diner, missing a few limbs but still with the same gentle smile on his face. Echo had been nervous to tell you who he really was and what had happened, but he should have known that there was no need. You were as accepting and loving as always and when you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him tight Echo could have sworn he really died and had gone to heaven. Heaven, however, wasn't where he was right now, rather his own special hell. Here he was, in his usual booth with his usual drink and usual meal in front of him, but there was one thing missing: you. Someone else had served him, someone who didn't know his order by heart and didn't smile at him the way you did. It took him a while to muster up the courage to ask your colleague where you were, after all he wasn't your boyfriend, he wasn't even really your friend, there had never been any indication that you wanted to continue your relationship outside of work, a thought Echo continued to push deep down and ignore. "They're sick", the other waitress told him. The news hit Echo deep. Of course the rational part of him knew that you might just have a common cold or a headache, but for clones being sick more often than not meant dying. He called out a quick "Thanks" to the waitress before throwing a handful of credits on the table and hurrying out of the diner. He considered himself lucky because he knew where you lived from the few times he had convinced you to let him walk you home after work, so know he was running towards your flat, ignoring the pain where his prosthetics met his body. You were the only thought on his mind.

-------

You hated being sick. Hated it more than anything. Well, almost anything. The one thing you hated more than being sick in general was being sick today. You knew that this was the day Echo would visit the diner before leaving Coruscant again and you wanted to be there more than anything. After losing him once you simply couldn't risk not saying goodbye. Your doorbell interrupted your anxious thoughts. Hesitantly you walked over to the door and pressed the speaker button. "Who's there?", you asked. "It's me, Echo", a familiar voice replied. "Can I come up?" The sound of his voice alone managed to make you feel better, and when you saw him walking up the last couple of stairs from your spot in the doorway you could have sworn your cold was almost gone. "Hi", you said. Even your voice suddenly sounded less scratchy. Echo took a step towards you. He lifted his arm as if to touch you, only to realize that it was his cybernetic one. Quickly he lowered it again. He kept forgetting about his new limbs, especially in your presence, but he refused to touch you with anything other than his real hand, refused to miss the chance to feel your skin against his. "I heard you were sick and I... Maybe this is stupid, but I just had to see you, cyare." There it was, that nickname he had begun calling you shortly before the mission to the Citadel. You were dying to know what it meant, but too afraid to ask, maybe it was something cute and romantic, as you hoped, but maybe it was something like "buddy" or "pal", which you really couldn't take, it would ruin the last bit of hope you had of Echo reciprocation your feelings. "That's so sweet of you, but I really don't want you to get sick as well", you said, even though the thought of him leaving made you feel ten times worse again. Echo just shook his head as he gently pushed past you into the flat, as if to show you that he didn't plan on leaving any time soon. "I won't get sick, trust me. And if I do anyways I guess I'll just have to stay here with you", Echo told you with a slight smile. You laugh at his words, a laugh that quickly turned into a series of coughs. You really liked this new side of Echo, the more confident and bolder side, though of course you were also fond of his sweet and caring side. "I'd really like that", you said, heat risking to your cheeks at your words. Echo looked at you in surprise. Surely you couldn't mean that, it had to be the sickness talking. But he couldn't ignore the little spark of hope that ignited at your words. "How about I make you a cup of tea and you sit down with a blanket?", he suggested. With another cough you moved over to your couch and began to wrap yourself in your comfiest blanket while Echo made his way to what he assumed to be the kitchen. "Or maybe two blanket", he called once he heard you sneezing from the other room.

-------

Just a few minutes later the two of you were sitting beside each other on the couch, you wrapped up in three blankets and Echo without a single one. "Aren't you cold?", you asked him, both because you were concerned and because you sensed what might be your one chance to get close to him. Echo looked at you, a fond expression on his face as he smooth your hair down. "I'm fine, don't worry about me." You looked at him from beneath your slowly closing eyelids. "I always worry about you, I always have. When you're gone I can't sleep because I keep wondering whether you're alright. I can't help but worry that something might happen, that you'll get captured again or die, really die." His expression changed from loving to shocked. You worried about him? Really worried to the point where you couldn't sleep? Was that a friendship thing or did it mean...? "Echo, I'm still cold", you said with a yawn that quickly turned into another cough. That short sentence quickly pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. He jumped up from the couch and started to look around the room, keeping his eyes out for any more blankets. "Are there more blankets somewhere?" You shook your head as best as you could with shivers now taking over your body. "Cuddle with me", you managed to say. "Body heat helps." Echo tried to ignore the blood he felt rushing into his cheeks and his thoughts telling him that he should just do it, when would he ever get this chance again? "Are you sure? I don't think I make a good cuddling partner with my new limbs and-" "I don't care, just get in here", you interrupted him, your sickness making you moodier than usual. For a moment Echo just stared at you, then the desire to finally be close to you after all these years of longing for exactly that took over. He sat back down on the couch, closer this time, and moved underneath the blankets. You were hot, literally. Echo was sure you had a fever, and he told you as much. But when he tried to get up again to look for a thermometer you put your arm around his waist and laid your head on his shoulder. Gently he rested his arm, the prosthetic one, on the back of the couch, so the cold metal wouldn’t be in the way, and then he was finally able to relax and enjoy your touch. Enjoy the warmth of your body, the feeling of your breath hitting his throat and the smell of your shampoo, that made its way into his nose. “We should have done this earlier”, you sighed as you snuggled even closer. You really didn’t know what Echo had been so worried about, he was more than comfortable and so, so warm. His warmth alone made you more relaxed and sleepy than you already were, though his comforting presence and the soft circles he was stroking along your legs, which had found their way into his lap, helped as well. “All you had to do was ask, I would have been ready any time”, Echo confessed. He was sure you could hear his heart beating from how close you were, maybe feel it as well, but at least you couldn’t see the colour rising to his cheeks. “Really?” You lifted your head from its place on Echo’s shoulder to look at him. He was even more beautiful from up close. With how the light was hitting his eyes just right and the slight colour on his cheeks he looked like a painting, a masterpiece you might see in a museum. “Really.” Echo couldn’t help but stare at you. Your eyes were bright, though that may be partly due to the fever, your lips shining and your breath smelled of the tea he had made earlier. He moved his arm from the back of the couch to your shoulder and went to cup your cheek in his hand, only to realize that he had once again used his prosthetic. “Stars, I’m still not used to that thing. I’m so sorry”, he apologized when he saw you flinch. Your gaze left Echo’s eyes and focused on his arm instead. There was no fear or disgust in your expression, no pity either, just plain curiosity. “It’s fine, I was just surprised by how cold it is. But I love it. I love it because it’s part of you and I love every part of you.” Did you really just say that? Surely Echo had to be dreaming. Any second now he’d wake up to hear his brother’s cursing or complaining about something. Or he’d be back in that hellhole on Skako Minor and realize that not only was this a dream, his rescue had been one as well. But even though he was sure this couldn’t be real, he had to ask. “You love me?” Now it was your turn to be shocked. You looked back at Echo’s face, moving your head so fast it made you dizzy. The reaction you had feared was nowhere to be found, instead love and longing were written all over his face. “Did I just say that out loud?” Echo nodded, there was nothing else he could do in that moment. “Damn, this cold must be hitting me harder than I thought”, you mumbled, hoping to get out of this situation by reminding Echo that you were sick. But no such luck. His hand, the flesh one this time, moved from your thigh up to your waist to pull you even closer. He leaned down to rest his forehead against yours before he whispered the next words. “(Y/N), please be honest; do you love me?” How could you ever lie to him? But any words seemed to have left you, so instead you leaned up to close the last few centimeters between your lips. The kiss was everything you had hoped it would be, everything you had dreamed of these last two years. Sweet and loving and longing, with just a hint of something more, something rougher and more urgent. To your dismay Echo parted from you sooner than you would have liked. “You didn’t answer my question.” You sighed. There was no escaping, not this time. “Yes, I love you. I only realized it when it was too late, or when I thought it was too late, and then you came back, but I didn’t want to burden you with this, not after everything you’ve been through, so I-” Before you could say anything else Echo interrupted you by pressing his lips against yours again. His hand was stroking along your waist while his scomp was pulling you closer by your neck. Your own hands found their way to his shoulders, and you clung to them to keep you upright. Now it wasn’t just the fever that was making you dizzy. “I love you too”, Echo told you between two kisses. He attached his mouth to yours again before he began trailing kisses all over your face and down your neck. “I think I fell in love with you the moment I first saw you.” Your eyes widened in surprise. How could he have known all this time and never tell you? Before you could even ask that question out loud he already gave you an answer. “I was so scared to tell you. I’m just a clone and you’re... you’re perfect. Fives kept telling me to ask you out, but I just couldn’t. On the way to the CItadel he finally convinced me to give it a shot, but you know how that went.” His words made your stomach turn. You had been so close, so incredibly close, to a happy ending. “And then I came back and you were still there and still as perfect as ever. If I couldn’t tell you how I felt before, it was even more impossible now. I wasn’t even just a clone anymore, I was less, not even really human.” Those last words broke your heart. Did Echo really think that’s how you saw him? As some machine? Is that how he saw himself? “Echo, my love, my darling, I would never think that, and you shouldn’t either. You’ve never been just a clone, you’ve always been Echo. And you’re still Echo, my Echo who I love so very much. It doesn’t matter that your body has changed, your mind and your heart are still the same, that’s what makes you you, that’s why I love you.” Echo could have sworn that he never loved you more than he did in that moment, not even that one time when you told someone off because they said something mean about clones. “I... Thank you”, he said and ended his sentences with the sweetest kiss to you cheek. You wanted to tell him that there was no need to thank you, but all of the sudden the cold took over your body again and your eyes felt heavier than ever before. Echo seemed to notice, because he loosened his grip on you and guided your head back to his shoulder. “Sleep now, we have all the time in the world tomorrow.” And sleep you did, in Echo’s arms, snuggled up under a blanket, hoping to wake up next to him after all this wasted time.

-------

I hope you liked this fic and are alright with the prompt choice I made. I kinda feel like this was more of a friends to lovers/mutual pining story, but it’s just a narrow line between the two that I have trouble writing one without the other...

#echo x reader #tbb echo x you #tbb echo x reader #tbb echo imagine #echo imagine #echo x you #arc trooper echo imagine #arc trooper echo x you #arc trooper echo x reader

39 notes · View notes