#EDIT: OH WAIT I DO REMEMBER TWO MOMENTS where he sounded angry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

myherowritings · 5 years ago

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Maybe It’s Fate

— After discovering the mememate you fell in love with was your ex-boyfriend who broke your heart, you find yourself alone in a bar with a dead phone in a poor attempt to cope. The person who helps you at 3 a.m. is the last person you want to see.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader word count: 10,531 genre: modern au, social media au

a/n: hihi welcome to part 25 of toya ! ;) the smau is rated 17+ so keep that in mind because it applies to this part too. it’s a bit thicc so i hope it’s able to keep your attention! skksffsd plspls chat with me and let me know what u think once u read! i’m looking forward to the convos ^-^ [edit: THIS IS NOT THE FINAL PART LOLOL]

Of all the dumb decisions you’ve made in your life, this by far had to be the dumbest of them all.

You were angry and hurt and wanted nothing more than to drown your feelings with overplayed EDM music and cheap booze that reminded you too much of the trash college parties you used to frequent. And while going out to get drunk was no where near your stupidest decision, going out alone with the full intention of returning home with someone else was.

“Is everything okay?” you heard an unfamiliar voice beside you call.

Wishing you had brought more than an empty can of pepper spray, you cautiously turned to face him. You wanted to call a cab or take the train home, but you knew walking alone in the streets in your current condition might just be more stupid than staying at the club. Besides, your phone died right after you sent Kaminari your location.

In other words-- You were truly fucked.

Not that you would let anyone know that, of course.

“Everything’s just fine,” you replied, trying to sound polite but disinterested. “Thanks.”

He kept his distance but sat down at the barstool next to you. “Are you sure? You’re a pretty lady alone at the bar and you’re staring at your drink like it just insulted your favorite grandmother.”

Immediately, the tears of stress and frustration flooded your eyes but you kept them from falling. Your bottom lip quivered and you blamed all the alcohol in your system for your seemingly uncontrollable emotions.

“Am I that transparent?” You sniffled, downing the rest of your drink as you turned towards him.

“Ah-- Wait!” he cried with wide eyes, waving his hands in front of him as you chugged what was in your glass. “Are you sure you should keep drinking? Where are your friends?”

You studied him curiously. He seemed nice and trustworthy, but you couldn’t help but be skeptical of his intentions.

“They’re...around,” you answered, unwilling to admit you were here alone to a random stranger. “And I’m okay! Just here hating men, but what’s new?”

He nodded solemnly. “Understandable. Men suck. Carry on.”

That earned a grin from you.

As the last gulp of vodka settled in your stomach and made its way to your head, you instinctively checked your phone in your pocket only to find it still dead.

Damn. And here you were hoping it would’ve miraculously charged through sheer willpower.

Drumming your fingertips against the empty glass, you let your gaze roam around the perimeter of the nightclub, blinking furiously in confusion when you thought you had spotted a head of all-too-familiar purple hair near the entrance.

“What the…” you trailed off. You could have sworn you just saw Shinsou, but the next second you opened your eyes, he was gone.

Great, you thought to yourself miserably. First he snuck his way into your heart and now you were imagining his presence too?

“You’re really had too much to drink, haven’t you, Y/N?” you chided yourself, head spinning as you instantly regretted the last few gulps.

The guy next to you glanced over in concern, drinking a glass of what you assumed to be respect women juice.

“Can I order you some water?” he fretted. “Or maybe a cab?”

You shook your head to decline but stopped abruptly when your temples started to throb at the sudden motion.

“S’okay,” you slurred. “I just thought I saw--”

“Y/N!”

You froze in your seat.

That voice… It was faint and almost like it wasn’t real, but you knew that voice.

There was no way.

“Good grief, I’m losing it now, huh?” you asked your bar acquaintance with furrowed brows.

He shrugged, not knowing how to reply.

“Y/N, thank god,” the voice said frantically, sounding closer this time. “You’re safe!”

Ever so slowly, you turned around in your seat, eyes squeezed shut.

Even hearing his voice amidst the blaring of music was enough to make your heart twist in pain. It was the same deep timbre you remembered from high school and you haven’t heard it since then. You hated just how much you had missed the familiar sound. It was like a hug of comfort telling you everything was okay and a stab in the gut all at once.

“Y/N,” he said again, almost a whisper this time.

You finally found the courage to open your eyes, but refused to meet his gaze. Instead, you developed a deep interest in the laces of his shoes, reluctant to look up.

“Shinsou…” The name left a bitter taste on your tongue and you wished you had another drink to wash it down with. Your voice hardened. “What are you doing here?”

He winced at your harsh tone but stood unrelenting. “Your friends are worried sick about you. Kaminari was so concerned he even messaged me-- Something I imagine he never wanted to do.”

Your lower lip jutted out in guilt as your stare stayed set on the intricacies of the tiled flooring.

“Why have you not checked your phone?” asked Shinsou in exasperation. “Kaminari was trying to tell you I was going to pick you up.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “My phone died after I sent Denki my location.”

“Died? Did you not charge it before you left? Y/N how could you be so irresponsible--!”

“Is everything okay here?” your unnamed acquaintance said from his seat on the bar. He glanced carefully between you and Hitoshi.

You nodded, sparing him a wry smile. “I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

Shinsou bit the inside of his cheek as he eyed the stranger who sat next to you. “Who’s this?”

“None of your damn business.”

Annoyed by Shinsou’s chiding, you bristled when he frowned at you. He had no right to sound concerned or jealous-- No right to pretend he cared!

Not when he did what he did.

“I know I was being stupid and I’ll call my friends when I get home,” you said, not bothering to hide your irritation. “But you can’t just come here and talk to me like everything is normal! Why are you even here?”

Pushing yourself out of your chair, you stood up and finally looked Hitoshi in the eye, glaring at him. You wobbled on your own two feet and felt the goosebumps on your bare thighs and arms, briefly wishing you had brought a coat with you.

Great, another thing Toshi can call you irresponsible for, you thought crossly, a mixture of hurt and anger in your face as you stared up at him.

“Why are you here?” you repeated as you paced away from the bar--turning back only to give your bar friend a wave goodbye that he returned with a confused look. You headed for the exist of the nightclub as briskly as your legs could carry you in your uncomfortable heels. “How did you know where to find me?”

Shinsou trailed not too far behind you and you begrudgingly admitted to yourself that you felt a warmth near your back from his presence. “Kaminari told me you were alone at a nightclub and this one happened to be only ten minutes from my house.”

You pouted. Small fucking world. Fate must’ve been getting a kick out of this.

“Your friends were worried-- So was I.” You rolled your eyes, but he continued. “And since I was the closest to this place I offered to pick you up.”

Reaching the side doors, you stopped by the stone wall of the building and squinted at him. “You offered and they just let you?”

That did not sound like the friends you knew. You were expecting a full Shinsou beat down from Bakugou alone.

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck and, in your tipsy stupor, you felt comforted by the familiar habit of his. You swallowed, balling your hands into fists to snap your mind out of it.

It shouldn’t matter how many memories of the past were flooding you-- You were mad at him for lying and you had every right to be.

“Maybe offered is too loose of a word,” he admitted after a moment’s silence, having the decency to appear sheepish. “But we were worried and I knew I could get to you in half the time any of your friends could.”

Sure, it was a logical reason. But that didn’t mean you had to like it. “I would rather have waited double the time if that meant I didn’t have to see you again.”

You stared Hitoshi straight in the eyes as you said that as you tried to ignore the trembling of your lower lip. He flinched at the words, looking hurt. But another part of him looked like he accepted it.

“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now--”

“Mhmm,” you hummed just to be petty.

“--but we had no way of knowing if you were safe. Especially when you stopped replying to anyone! This was the quickest way.”

Folding your arms across your chest you stubbornly held his gaze. “Well, I’m safe. So you can leave now.”

Shinsou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Please. I know you hate me and you have every right to--”

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered under your breath. As much as you wish you did, you don’t think you could ever really hate him.

He blinked slowly and you could have sworn you saw a shimmer of hope in his expression. You tore your gaze away, studying the small fissures and cracks on the otherwise smooth pavement.

“Oh,” he breathed almost imperceptibly. “Thank you.”

You pretended not to hear him.

“Regardless of whether you hate me or not, I know you don’t want to see me--and I apologize for showing up so suddenly--but will you please let me bring you home safely?” Hitoshi pleaded. “Or to your friend’s house if you don’t want to be alone.”

With your lips squeezed shut, you rubbed the goosebumps off your upper arm. It was cold and your head was spinning and you had no clue what to say to him.

Silently, Shinsou took off his outer coat and gently draped it over your shoulders, fastening the top button near the collar so it wouldn’t fall off your frame. You looked at him in surprise, unshed tears stinging the back of your eyes as you recalled all the times he’d given you his jacket while you were dating.

There were more times that you cared to admit where you conveniently “forgot” your jacket or wore too little layers on a cold day just so Hitoshi could give you his and you’d be enveloped in his scent.

And that’s exactly what was happening now. Shinsou’s coat surrounded your body like a warm hug and your nose was filled with a scent exactly like the one you remembered from when you were dating. He smelled like a sweet sandalwood with a mixture of fresh jasmine. He smelled like a field of flowers you’d find after a long trek through a woodsy forest. He smelled like home.

But he wasn’t.

In actuality, you haven’t been this close to Shinsou since your break up.

It had been years since you had seen him or talked to him or even been close enough to catch a trace of his scent. And now he was flooding every one of your senses with no care of the repercussions.

Your head was light.

You missed him. You cared for him. You never stopped loving him.

And now old wounds that never fully healed had been ripped open all at once.

“You were shivering,” Hitoshi stated quietly. “So I gave you my--”

He stopped short when he heard a sniffle coming from your direction, eyes growing wide as your buried your face in the palms of your shaking hands.

Through the cracks between your fingers, you saw Shinsou reach out to cup your face, stopping himself before he could touch you and withdrawing as if he had been burned. As stupid as it was, you wanted nothing more than to feel his touch against your skin and you found yourself involuntarily taking a half-step closer to him.

Your silent tears feel even faster.

“Are you crying?”

Despite the droplets of water blurring your eyes, you managed to glare up at him for his dumb question.

He grimaced. “Sorry. I’m...sorry.”

Although you were the one crying, you still noticed the pained look on Shinsou’s face. He seemed just as conflicted as you were, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands so hard his knuckles appeared white.

When he opened his mouth to speak his voice sounded choked, but still gentle. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Just peachy,” you murmured, barely moving your lips. The two of you stood there in awkward silence, nothing but the sounds of your labored breaths filling the air until you blurted, “Actually, you know what--? No. I’m not!”

Shinsou opened his mouth to speak but no noise came out. That was just fine by you, though. You had plenty of things you wanted to say, regardless of his response.

“I’m angry at you! And confused. And sad. And hurt! I don’t know if I want to yell at you or ignore you or run right back into your arms--” Your voice cracked and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to slow your sharp breathing.

You hugged yourself around your waist, painfully aware of how comforting his jacket felt around your body. A part of you wished you could just tear the coat off your shoulders, throw it onto a puddle on the floor, give Shinsou the middle finger, and turn away without looking back.

But you couldn’t.

Instead, you let your tears continue to fall as you glowered at Hitoshi’s shoes.

“I am so mad at you,” you managed, hands clutching the fabric at your sides. “You lied to me, Hitoshi. You lied to me and you didn’t trust me and you left!”

The hurt from your past which you never wanted to accept mixed with anger from the present, both fueling your surge in emotions.

“And now you’re here--in front of me--acting like everything is okay?!” you shouted in exasperation. Your face was burning despite the chilling breeze outside. “Do you even care about me? Have you ever even cared about me?”

He gritted his teeth, hurt that you would even ask that. “Of course. Of course I care about you, Y/N! Even through all these years I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

“Funny way of showing it.”

His laugh was humorless. “I’m a fuck up. I know.”

Your gaze softened just the slightest bit. “Hey-- I didn’t say that.”

Shinsou shrugged. “Regardless, I did fuck up with you. And I’m so sorry for that.”

“For which time?” By now, the tears flowing out of your eyes slowed, the remnants dried by the biting wind. You gave him a wry smile, unamused.

“Both times,” he answered without hesitation. “I hurt you when I broke up with you for no damn reason and I lied when I told you I didn’t love you. That was the biggest lie of my life-- I still loved you. So much. But I jumped to conclusions and didn’t give you the change to explain. I owe you so much more than an apology but it’s the least I can give you right now.”

You rolled your lower lip between your teeth, hating yourself for wanting to accept his apology and jump into his arms. He gave no excuses for what he did and his words were genuine. That much you knew for certain.

Slowly, he inched towards you.

“I really am sorry, Y/N.” He paused. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

You stayed silent, holding your breath as the pad of his thumb brushed against your damp cheek. Shinsou wiped away your flood of tears with a touch so gentle, it felt like a feather on your face.

His thumb lingered on your cheekbone, his fingertips lightly grazing your jaw, and you found yourself ever so slightly leaning into his palm. The tension in your muscles loosened and if you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you were back with the Shinsou you loved in high school-- As if he never left and nothing had ever changed.

Just for a moment, you tricked yourself into being truly happy. You tricked yourself into thinking that maybe you and Hitoshi could still be in love.

You wanted to capture this second and replay it on an infinite loop, but just like all moments, this too had to come to an end.

As you opened your eyes, Hitoshi reluctantly brought his hand back to his side.

“Sorry,” he said, voice hoarse. “You were crying and I just wanted to--” He shook his head, cutting himself off before his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

It sounded like his apology was meant for more than just wiping some tears off your face.

You nodded almost imperceptibly, the anger in your gaze diffused by hurt and longing. “I know.”

As the minutes passed, neither one of you made a move to step away from the other-- Your bodies mere inches apart and so close, yet never quite touching.

Suddenly, Hitoshi cleared his throat.

“Er-- If you’ll let me, I think I should bring you home now,” he said, forcibly shaking himself out of his daze and pulling his phone out. “It’s almost four in the morning.”

Blinking, you rubbed your eyes. Not that he mentioned the time, you realized just how tired you were. You wanted to take a bubble bath, change into fluffy pajamas, and sleep until the following night.

“Do you have to go to your flower shop tomorrow?”

“Hmm?” You were startled. You had almost forgotten that the man in front of you was the same person you considered your “mememate.” As much as you hated to admit it, he probably knew more about you than some of your closest friends.

Biting your lip, you snapped yourself out of it.

“Oh-- Right. My flower shop.”

He nodded.

“No, I don’t have work tomorrow,” you answered finally. “I may not have made the smartest decisions tonight, but I’m not that irresponsible.”

A shadow of a smile graced his face. “Of course not.”

Fishing his keys from his pocket, Shinsou walked to the parking lot of the nightclub, looking over his shoulder to check if you were following.

When his gaze met yours you immediately stuck your tongue out at him haughtily so he knew you were only following him as a last resort and you needed to get home-- Not because you wanted to.

You caught a glimpse of his grin before he turned around, and you managed to stop yourself before one spread to your lips as well.

Stopping at a black car with tinted windows, Hitoshi unlocked it with his keys, opening the door of the passenger seat and waiting for you to safely enter.

“I can open a door myself,” you murmured, sliding into the seat securely before he gently shut it close.

“I know,” you heard his amused voice call through the window.

It felt like there was one, singular butterfly fluttering around in your stomach and causing mayhem, and you batted it away before Hitoshi could come in and see the grin on your face.

“Did I just see you just hit yourself in the gut?” he asked when he entered through the driver’s side.

“No.”

“Okay.”

Subtly, you rubbed your tummy in a soft, circular motion. You hadn’t meant to punch the butterfly that hard.

“Didn’t hit yourself, huh?”

You flushed. “Oh, hush.”

With a snort, Hitoshi turned the engine of his car on and you let your eyes explore the interior. It was sleek and clean, smelling like a mixture of sandalwood and new car.

Reaching behind the gear level, he pulled out a white cord and handed it to you. You stared at the object in his hands.

“For you,” he said, with a raised brow. “You should charge your phone and let your friends know you’re on your way home.”

Wordlessly, you accepted it from him. Careful not to let your fingers brush against his in fear of the spark it might cause.

“I messaged Kaminari earlier to let him know you were safe. But he probably wants to hear it from you.”

You nodded as you plugged your dead phone in. “Thanks.”

He hummed, putting the car on drive and backing out of the parking spot, stopping before he reached the main street.

“Do you know how to get home from here?” he asked. As you shook your head, Hitoshi handed you his fully charged phone that was opened on the navigation app. “You can search for your address.”

“Got it.” The air between you was almost suffocatingly awkward as you typed in where you lived, each click of the keyboard ringing into the stillness of the night. After finding turning the directions on, you handed the phone back to him. “Thanks.”

Shaking his head, he waved you off. “You don’t need to keep thanking me, Y/N. This is the least I could do.”

Averting your gaze, you twiddled your thumbs in your lap, unsure what to say. You had so much you wanted to tell him--so much you wanted to ask--but when it came to it, you froze.

Just then, your phone made a sound from its spot near the gear shift, buzzing and lighting up as it finally turned on. A plethora of notifications filled your screen and you found yourself feeling guilty for making your friends worry like that.

Five missed calls for Kaminari, three missed calls from Todoroki, and nine missed calls from Bakugou. You gulped. You were definitely going to get your ears talked off by those three once they got a hold of you.

But amidst the calls and texts of worry from your friends, you also noticed a handful of messages from Hitoshi. He sent you texts asking if you were okay and telling you not to worry because he was on his way to get you. There was a lump in your throat when he saw the messages were still from your mememate-- You never did get around to changing his contact name.

From the corner of your eye you saw Hitoshi glancing down at your phone screen, a look of regret apparent on his face. When he caught you staring, he directed his attention back on the road, clearing his throat as he followed the directions on the navigation system.

To think only a week ago, things were so different between the two of you.

You thought he was a random stranger you connected with through the power of memes, never having a clue that he was your ex this whole time. You found yourself opening up and sharing your private feelings with him despite the promise you made yourself to always guard your heart.

Even anonymously, Hitoshi climbed over your walls and found his way to the inner workings of your life. Even anonymously, he made everything feel like it was okay.

But a part of you was scared--so scared--that it was all in your head and he was only playing you this whole time. And at this point, you were just too afraid to ask.

“Are you crying again?”

“What?!” you yelped in alarm, wiping at your slightly damp face with the sleeves of his coat. “No, you asshole!” You glared at him, a few loose tears still gathered by the corners of your eyes. You refused to let them fall through the use of sheer willpower. “The air conditioning is just blasting into my eyes.”

“The air conditioner is off.”

You blinked. “Well that makes sense. It’s so hot in here I’m just sweating through my eyes.”

He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Right.”

The lighthearted mood didn’t last very long, however, when your phone buzzed once more and the notifications from earlier tonight appeared on your lockscreen.

“I really made everyone worry, huh?” You sighed, leaning back against the headrest and shutting your eyes, the effects of the alcohol long since worn off. “I can’t believe I did something like this.”

He signaled a left turn and waited until he was at the red light before continuing. “I’m sorry for causing this.”

You stared at him in confusion. “What do you mean? Causing this?”

“Yeah. If I had just told you who I was the moment I found out, this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have been scared and alone at a random nightclub and your friends wouldn’t have been in near panic for hours. Hell-- If I hadn’t run away like that all those years ago none of this would have happened.” His fingers tightened around the steering wheel so hard it left indents on the leather. “You wouldn’t have felt all the pain and heartbreak and--”

His voice grew hoarse as it broke off, as if something was tightening around his throat. Holding your breath, you gazed at him in concern.

You were angry at Hitoshi and thought he had a lot of explaining to do-- Sure. But...for him to blame himself for everything that happened? That was more weight than anyone should bear on their own.

Surprising both him and yourself, you firmly placed your hand on top of his as he gripped the steering wheel. His hands were cold and rough from the wind, and you were certain yours weren’t much better. But still, you held him. And still, it felt right.

“Not everything is your fault, Toshi,” you said quietly, his old nickname slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it, like it was natural for you to call him that.

His eyes widened and a flush filled your cheeks.

You coughed to relieve the tension in your neck. “I just mean… You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. You messed up and there’s no denying that, but this isn’t all your fault. I mean it.”

Your eyes met before he tore his gaze away to focus on driving. Quickly, you retracted your hand from on top of Shinsou’s, cradling it against your stomach as you felt the burn from his skin linger on yours.

“Thank you.” His voice was solemn and grateful, as if he needed to hear those words at least once in his life. “You’re too caring, you know? Your heart is too good.”

You let out a breath of laughter, brushing his compliment off. “Yours is too. It’s just been through some shit. And maybe didn’t make the best decisions.”

“It most definitely didn’t.”

Though neither of you were looking at each other, there was a shared sense of happiness between the two of you--regardless of how brief it may have been. There was a small smile playing on your face as you bit your lip to keep it from growing wider.

You hadn’t fully forgiven Hitoshi, he still had some explaining to do, but you felt a sense of calmness when you realized that maybe forgiveness would be possible.

Before you knew it, you heard the navigator say, “Your destination is on the right,” as Hitoshi pulled up at the curb in front of your building.

“We’re here,” he announced slowly, one hand on the gear level as if he wasn’t sure what to do next.

There was an awkward silence as you unplugged your phone from his car charger. It wasn’t that you wanted to spend more time with him exactly (that was definitely not the case), but rather you had more questions to ask. And what better time to figure out those questions than at four in the morning?

“You’ve been driving for a while…” you trailed off, hoping he caught the hint without too much embarrassment on your part. “Do you want to use the restroom before you drive back home?”

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck. “No, I’m good. I wasn’t out for that long.”

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, a sudden feeling of nerves settling in your stomach. Not those damned butterflies again. “Well, how about… Maybe you want a glass of water or a cup of tea?”

He gave you a curious look but set his car to park and turned off the engine nonetheless. “Sure…? Some water would be nice.”

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding, pulling your keys out of your pocket and unbuckling your seatbelt. Before you could open the car door for yourself, Hitoshi was already on the passenger’s side ready to open it for you.

“I know how to open a door,” you muttered with a roll of your eye, but felt a faint flush litter your cheeks nonetheless. You hopped out of your seat, accepting the hand he offered to stead you. “But...thank you.”

“No worries.”

For someone you were still mad at, he was making it damn hard for you to stay petty.

Despite the light throbbing in your head, both from drinking too much alcohol and from staying up too late, you were able to lead him inside your living room with no complications--only struggling with unlocking the door just a little.

“Welcome to my house,” you said, flapping your arms around and fidgeting in place. You slid off your shoes and placed them at the doorway and Hitoshi followed suit. “You can, uh, sit on the couch while I get you water. Or you can follow me into the kitchen…?”

Your eyes scanned the floors and furniture of your apartment. You liked maintaining your living space clean and clutter-free, so it wasn’t too much of a mess. Still, you weren’t expecting any guests and it wasn’t as nice as it could have been…

You shook your head, giving your face a light slap when you thought no one was looking. You shouldn’t be bothered. It was just Hitoshi here. Someone you most definitely no longer cared about.

Or so you kept telling yourself.

He followed behind you, grabbing at his neck and glancing between your walls and you, unsure what to look at in this new environment. After all, it wasn’t everyday you picked up your ex that you haven’t seen for four years at a bar only to be invited into their house.

“I can go with you to the kitchen,” he answered with uncertainty.

“G-Great!”

You grimaced. When did you become Tony the Tiger all of a sudden?

As you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, you filled them up with ice and water, setting one next to Shinsou on the countertop.

He accepted it. “Thank you.”

You nodded and there was an awkward silence, both of you taking long sips from your glass, not knowing where to go from here. You knew you wanted to talk to him, but what were you going to ask exactly? What was the right way to go about this situation?

Next to you, Hitoshi looked like he was having some inner struggles of his own. His fingers flexed and unflexed around the cool glass, both avoiding your gaze and looking at you at the same time.

Biting your lip, you turned to look at him. As uncomfortable as it was, there was no better time to ask than now.

“Can we talk--?”

“We should talk--”

You both started and stopped at the same time.

There was a beat of elongated silence before the two of you laughed. Shaking your head, you buried your face in your hands, peering at him between your fingers.

“This is silly,” you cried in embarrassment. “Why are we so awkward?”

Hitoshi shrugged as a flustered laugh escaped his own lips. “Because this is weird. This is a strange situation we’re in and no one would ever expect something like this to happen.”

“Exactly!”

“But,” he continued, almost hesitantly, “I’m kind of glad it did, though.”

Your own laughter quieted down as the mood became more serious. You drank another gulp of water to quench your suddenly parched throat.

“Can we talk in the living room?” you asked, heading towards the hallway when Hitoshi nodded. You figured if you were going to have an uncomfortable conversation, you may as well try to find some comfort in your warm and plush sofa.

You sat down at the edge near the armrest and he took a seat not too far from you. There was less than a cushion space separating the two of you and if you were to move a few inches, your thighs would be touching.

Tearing your gaze away from your legs, you looked up to face Hitoshi. “You don’t have to answer, but… There have been some questions on my mind lately.”

He nodded, as if expecting you to say that. “Ask away. It’s the least I could do.”

You curled your legs and hugged your knees to your chest, peering at him through your lashes.

“Okay,” you said somewhat unsurely. Confrontation was never easy. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew who I was? How long were you planning on keeping it from me?”

Hitoshi ran a hand through his hair, tufts of purple sticking out in random patterns. Somehow, it suited him.

“I found out a day or so before you confessed to liking...your mememate,” he admitted. He had told you this through text when you asked, but hearing it a second time didn’t make it hurt any less. “I was going to tell you that day, too. But then you told me you liked me and I didn’t know how to break it to you then.”

You looked away, embarrassed at the reminder of the night you poured your heart out to him. He knew you were his ex the whole time and still didn’t stop you? You scoffed, “Well, you could’ve stopped me before I humiliated myself like that.”

“Humiliate-- How?”

“What do you mean how?” You glared. “I totally embarrassed myself that night by saying how much I liked you--my ex!--only to have you basically reject me on the spot!”

“I didn’t reject you.”

“I told you that you were the first person I liked since...well you,” you said, rubbing your temples to ease your own confusion. “And you never said it back. Not that you needed to. It’s totally fine that you don’t. It’s just that… I don’t even know. I just wish I never said anything.”

He placed the glass he was holding onto a coaster on your coffee table, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” said Hitoshi. “But that’s not it at all. I wasn’t trying to reject you. I would’ve told you I liked you back-- I wanted to, I swear.”

Your head snapped to his. He wanted to tell you? As in he started liking you too? Even when he didn’t know who you were?

With a wistful smile, he continued, “But it wasn’t fair to you. Not when I knew who you were and you didn’t know who I was. You didn’t deserve that bullshit.”

You stretched your legs out so they were dangling off the couch, folding one carefully over the other as you crossed your arms. “Then you should’ve just told me the truth about who you were.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He hung his head. “And if I did, you never would’ve told me your feelings.”

“Exactly,” you huffed. “They’d be safe and locked away in my heart until they disappeared.”

He was silent as you turned his body towards yours, resting his arm on the back cushions of the sofa.

“Is that really what you want, though?” he asked. “You’re so kind and beautiful and you deserve to open your heart to someone and be happy with them.” A flush rose to your cheeks at his sudden words of kindness but you shook it away. “I never knew I hurt you so badly that you were scared to love again-- And I’ll hate myself everyday for that.”

“Hitoshi…” Your gaze softened. You wanted to reach out and smooth down his hair but you couldn’t.

He hurt you, yes. But to hate himself and never forgive himself for it? You thought that was far too extreme.

“When you broke up with me,” you started slowly, unsure how to go about this, “you said that our relationship was nothing more than some cheap dates and sex.” He winced, holding his stomach as if he felt nauseous. “If you’re so regretful now, why did you ever say something like that? Did I really mean nothing to you?”

“No-- Of course you meant something to me. Y/N, you were everything to me. And it’s ridiculous of me to say this now but I never wanted to hurt you like that,” Hitoshi said, his eyes squeezed shut. “But I did and I’m so sorry. I thought if I told you those mean things you would find it easier to just hate me and move on. Be with Kaminari or someone who could make you happy.”

You glared at him with both sadness and anger, nails digging into your palms. “I was happy. With you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little.”

Taken aback, you stared at him. You weren’t sure what response you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“But not because of anything you did,” he rushed before you could get the wrong idea. “I just thought you were a good person who truly deserved something better than what I could give. You should be with someone who wasn’t anxious and insecure and messed up.”

You were unsure if you wanted to smack Hitoshi or give him a hug, so you sat there stock-still.

“Even when I saw you with Kaminari, a part of me thought it would be better off that way,” he admitted, a scornful look on his face as he scoffed at himself. “But that wasn’t my call to make, was it? And how I went about it was wrong and dishonest. I’m really sorry.”

He tugged at a loose thread on the sofa while staring at you in earnest. There were so many things to say and not enough time in the night to say it.

“You’re right. It wasn’t your call,” you said, furrowing your brows. “I wish you would’ve told me you were feeling this way all those years ago. I loved you--regardless of what you may have thought. And what you said really hurt me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I fucked up and hurt you more deeply than I could’ve ever imagined. You felt like you couldn’t have feelings for anyone for all those years because of what I did, and if I could take it all back, I would.”

His hand trembled slightly as he reached out to cup your face, pulling away harshly before he could touch you.

“You deserve to find love, Y/N. Even if it’s not with me because I know I have no right to anyone’s heart after what I did--”

“Hey, don’t say that!” you interrupted, a wrinkle forming as you scrunched up your nose. You frowned at him. “You deserve to find love again, too. You may have messed up a few times, and I’m not going to pretend like I wasn’t hurt, but I still care about you. A lot. And just because you made some really bad decisions doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to ever be happy.”

He looked down at his lap, hands curled into fists by his side. You had the sinking suspicion he didn’t believe you.

Swallowing your pride, you inched closer to him, lightly lifting his chin so he stared at you face-to-face. The dark purple of his eyes stormed as a conflicted expression overcame him and you wanted to run a finger over his brow and brush the insecurities away.

Quietly, you whispered, “You’re so worthy of love, Hitoshi. And it makes me so sad that you still haven’t realized it.”

You felt a piece of your heart chip as he pulled away from you, gritting his teeth as he hung his head. When he spoke, his voice sounded choked, as if he was holding back tears.

“You’ve shown me too much kindness,” he said, words shakey. “Even after I assumed you cheated and broke up with you in the cruelest way possible--”

His voice cracked and he couldn’t speak. With his gaze avoiding yours he pushed himself off the couch.

“God, I’m sorry,” Hitoshi muttered, his face a look of self-disdain. “I shouldn’t even be here in your life right now. I should just--”

Your hand grabbed the one he used to shove himself off your sofa, holding his fingers tight in between yours. With your head bowed, you called, “Don’t leave again. Not yet.”

He froze in his spot, one leg immobile in front of the other in the direction of the door. Desperately, you tugged at his arm so he looked back at you. Your eyes pleaded with him. This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be the end until you received your closure and Hitoshi received his.

“You know that night we played Truth or Drink?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He stared back at you curiously, slowly sitting down as you patted the seat next to you. Cautiously, he nodded in response.

That night was a pivotal time in bonding with your mememate and it was the closest you had felt with anyone besides your best friends.

Continuing, you said, “You told me about your dad cheating on your mom. And then seeing me and Denki the next day after I lied about who I was with.”

There was no accusatory tone in your voice, and you stated it as if you were recalling the facts. But still, Hitoshi winced.

“Yeah, shit.” He placed his palm over his forehead, rubbing at his temple as he grimaced. “I really just jumped to conclusions like that and it was unfair to you. I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t reply to his apology, but gave him a small smile. “That night, I told you I thought your response was understandable. It made sense that you were mistrustful at the time. Especially after just finding out about your parents-- People I know you looked up to. Even in regards to love.”

Hitoshi wore a guarded expression, but still listened keenly to what you had to say.

“Toshi… My opinion on that doesn’t change just because I now know it was me you were talking about.”

“Y/N--”

“Don’t get me wrong,” you clarified, not wanting to sound too lenient. “I’m still hurt that you couldn’t trust me. I wish you confronted me so we could’ve cleared up the misunderstanding. I wish you hadn’t stood me up on our anniversary date. But most importantly… I wish I could have been there for you when you found out about your parents.”

Hitoshi sat there in silence, mouth opening but unable to form the sentences he wanted.

You gave him a look of regret, one hand still not letting go of his even as he stayed seated beside you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

“It’s not your fault. At all.”

As you shook your head, he faltered. “Still, you went to America, alone, and never told anyone what was wrong. You kept all these feelings to yourself this whole time and I hate that so much.”

“I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. I don’t deserve to--”

Your fingers twitched. How many times was he going to beat himself while he was already down?

“Stop saying that!” you snapped, unable to contain your emotions. “You are not a burden. And you deserve so much more than you think you do.”

His eyes widened at your outburst and his lips parted slightly.

“It’s good you know what you did was wrong-- You can’t pretend lying and making assumptions was okay because it’s not. But you know it’s not! And you acknowledge that and it seems like you regret it.” Your voice took on a desperate tone as you tried to get Hitoshi to see his mistakes as something separate from his worth as a whole. “You’ve made mistakes, but you can grow from them. Fucking up doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love and happiness. You don’t have to take all the blame onto yourself.”

“How can I not take the blame?” he asked, his frustration at himself matching yours. “If I had been a better boyfriend, I would have trusted you more. If I had been a better person, I wouldn’t have lied to you. And maybe if I had been a better son, my parents--”

As if your body had a mind of its own, you threw your arms around him in a hug before he could finish his sentence. You heard a sharp inhale come from him as he sat, rigid.

“Don’t,” you whispered, breathing harshly as you held him tight. “Please, Toshi. Don’t say that. If no one ever told you this, please listen to me then. It’s not your fault. Your parents divorcing has nothing to do with your worth. Don’t blame yourself for the issues they had.”

His shoulders were still tense despite the shudder of tears you felt.

“You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. Hold yourself accountable, yes. Always strive to be a better person, yes. But don’t think it’s all your fault,” you pleaded. “You don’t have to handle everything on your own. You can lean on someone, Toshi.” You gently stroked the hair on the back of his head. “You can lean on me.”

At your words, you felt him visibly relax, his body free of the tension as you held him close.

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around you as he returned your embrace, his strong hands firmly gripping your waist as if he never wanted to let you go. You found yourself loosening up at his touch and you placed your head in his chest.

Peering up at him through your lashes, you said, “I don’t know if you need to hear this, but I need to say it.”

His thumb stroked the length of your spine as you continued.

“I forgive you, Hitoshi. For everything.” He stopped moving as he looked at you in surprise. You simply smiled at him. “Your apologies were genuine and so is your regret. I know you’re a good person and I forgive you, so please stop blaming yourself now.”

“Thank you, Y/N. So much.” He pulled away ever so slightly, feelings of guilt still flooding him. “But I feel like I still don’t deserve it though--”

A noise of protest bubbled up at your throat. “I swear to god, if I hear the d-word come out of your mouth again, I’ll make you shut up.” After a moment’s pause, you tried to hide your laughter. “Heh. D-word.”

“Oh my god,” he said, his amusement escaping him. With his arms still around your waist, he challenged, “How would you make me shut up?”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Hitoshi laughed a genuine laugh that you haven’t heard in years. The deep rumble had a smile of your own forming on your lips.

But the mood turned serious when you gazed into his eyes again.

“Really, though…” you said, squeezing the fabric at his sides. “I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way for so long without telling anyone. I hope you know you can always talk to me.”

He tilted his head back, staring at your ceiling as you caught sight of his Adam’s apple. “Why are you being so nice to me after how much I hurt you?”

“Because I care about you,�� you answered simply. “And I know you still care about me. You wouldn’t be this hung up over everything if you didn’t.”

There was a sort of smugness in you as you teased him and he let out a breath of laughter.

“Hah. I do. I care about you. And I’ve missed you so much.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but he hugged you even closer to him. Your arms released their embrace on Hitoshi as you brought them to your sides. He looked down at you with a strange expression.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you admitted, squeezing your eyes shut as if it pained you. “You’re the first and only person I’ve ever loved and I miss you more than you could ever know.”

Your head was bowed at his chest as you tried to steady your trembling hands by grasping the fabric at the front of his shirt.

“Why did you never call me? Why didn’t you tell me you were moving to another continent? Toshi, I loved you so much--” Your voice broke off as the tears you were holding in escaped you. “Why did you leave me?”

His fingers were laced in your hair, holding you tight. He wanted nothing more than to soothe your tears and hated himself for being the cause of them. “I’m an insecure idiot who fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him.”

Through the blur of tears, you saw the wistful look on his face. The best thing? you thought to yourself, touched.

“No amount of apologizing is going to fix anything,” he said, accepting it as a fact, “but I am so sorry. And I want you to know I’m grateful the person who AirDropped me that day was you.”

He lifted your chin and wiped your tears away with the pad of his thumb. Your knees were touching his thighs as you sat down with your legs folded under you, facing him. Letting go of the grip you had on his shirt, you unballed your fists and instead rested your palms on his chest.

You grinned at the audacity of it all. “I still can’t believe that happened. But I’m glad it did, too.”

“Must be a small world.”

“Or maybe it’s fate.” Your hand found his as you interlocked pinkies with him bashfully.

Hitoshi looked down at your interlaced fingers and a light dusting of pink colored his cheeks. A sense of enjoyment filled you as he continued to blush, a teasing grin playing on your face.

Before you lost any courage you had, you pressed your lips against the corner of his mouth-- Not quite a kiss but most definitely an invitation for one.

The red on his cheeks died down as his eyes darkened in color, removing his hand from your waist to cup your jaw. Hitoshi’s palm was warm and soft against you and you leaned into his caress.

“Do you feel like you got the closure you needed?” he asked, his voice a whisper as he leaned close to you.

“Yes.” You nodded, painfully aware of your close proximity. If you were to lift your head up any more, your lips would brush against his. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

His forehead was pressed against yours and your heart was being so hard, you were certain Hitoshi could hear it from his spot in front of you.

After a moment’s silence, you said, “Now what?”

He shrugged, eyes shut. “That’s up to you to decide. I’m happy with doing whatever will make you happiest. And if that means leaving you alone and letting you close this chapter, then I--”

You yelped, silencing him with a gentle shove on the chest.

“Are you crazy?” you asked incredulously. “You think I would ever let you go again?” There was frustration in your voice as you resisted the temptation to kiss the stupidity out of him. “I… I mean, unless that’s what you want?”

“Y/N…” Now he was the one with the tone of disbelief, like he couldn’t wrap his mind around what you had just said. “I’d want to stay with you. For as long as you’d let me.”

“O-Oh?” Your eyes widened in shock, but soon settled into an ecstatic smile. “Fate must have done us a favor with all this AirDrop stuff, huh? I fell for you all those years ago as Shinsou, and I fell for you again without even knowing who you were. There’s no way I’d throw that chance away.”

Tired of waiting for him to make the first move, you brought your hands to the back of his neck, and lifted your head up to meet his. You spotted an amused look on his face, but it didn’t last very long when your lips finally pressed against his with a contented sigh.

His movements were gentle and slow, like he was afraid if he kissed you any harder he would find this was only an illusion that would shatter. But it wasn’t. It was real and it was genuine and you wanted to prove it to him.

You broke away from his touch to pepper chaste kisses on his jawline, starting at the lobe of his ear and making your way down to the sensitive part of his throat you knew would drive him crazy, your hot breath blowing against his neck as a guttural sound escaped him.

“Eager, are we?” he asked hoarsely, his chin lifted.

You grinned mischievously against him.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture,” said Hitoshi, gently pushing you away with a roguish glint in his eyes, “you don’t always have to keep giving. You should be spoiled for a change.”

You squealed when his hands trailed down your sides to cup the undersides of your thighs, lifting you up as you sat down on his lap. His hands unclasped the button that fastened his coat on you and brushed the collar aside, exposing the supple skin on your upper chest.

“You should be spoiled,” he breathed in between each kiss he planted on your decolletage, “every day of your life.”

Your face burned at the implication of his words, the skin his mouth had touched feeling like they were searing hot. Though his jacket had fallen off your shoulders, you were still overwhelmed by his scent, the woodsy citrus filling your senses as you sighed his name and you still couldn’t get enough. He was more intoxicating than any vodka you had consumed earlier that night.

Growing impatient at his teasing, you squirmed on his lap, causing him to hiss in response.

You giggled at his expression and stuck your tongue out at him. “Just kiss me already.”

Tossing his inhibitions to the side, he obliged.

When your lips met again, this time it wasn’t uncertain and gentle. Each move Hitoshi made was firm and deliberate and if you weren’t already sitting down, your knees would have gone weak and given in.

His teeth grazed your lower lip and he kissed you harder, and your hands found themselves tangled underneath the hem of his shirt. The skin on your arms filled with goosebumps as he mimicked your motions, his fingers toying with the clasp of your bra as his name escaped your lips once more in a strangled moan.

Before it could go any further, however, Hitoshi removed his hands from the band of your undergarments and slowly pulled away from your kiss.

His face was flushed with beads of sweat falling down the side and his breathing was labored. You were certain you weren’t any better as you rested your forehead against his to steady yourself.

“Why’d you stop?” you asked with a strained voice, giving him your best pleading eyes.

“It’s late and you need some rest, baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to your nose with a smile. “I don’t want to stop--believe me,” he promised, his hands squeezing your thighs that still straddled his lap, “but I also don’t want you to rush into anything you might regret.”

You pouted, not wanting him to stop, but also feeling grateful he wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything you would regret the next day.

“Damn you for being such a gentleman,” you grumbled.

He ran the tip of his tongue against his lower lip. It was plump and red and it took all your willpower not to kiss it again.

“Only sometimes, princess,” he said when he noticed how your gaze zeroed in on his mouth. “But for now, you should get ready for bed. The sun is almost rising already.”

Hitoshi made a move to get up and you slowly unwrapped your legs from his hips, standing up shakily. He placed his hands on your hips to help you steady yourself, but that just made the weakness worse.

Still holding you, he stood up from the couch and looked down at you, resting his chin on the top of your head as you hugged him.

“You’re leaving?” you whimpered, a pout on your face.

“Sadly,” he sighed. “I have work tomorrow. Well, in a few hours I suppose. But if you need me to stay I--”

“Oh, my god!” you cried, jumping away from him. “You have work? And yet you still came for me and let me keep you this whole time?! Toshi!”

You folded your arms across your chest as you scolded him, but he just ruffled your hair playfully.

“It was the least I could do,” said Hitoshi. “And I’m used to running on little to no sleep. It’s fine, don’t worry about me.”

“It’s not fine! If you don’t get enough sleep this week I will smother you until you pass out.” You glared at him, holding his face between your hands and examining his tired eyes. Your gaze softened when you saw how sleepy he looked and thought about how well he hid it from everyone. You sighed. “And I think you’re a lot more selfless and caring than you give yourself credit for.”

You kissed the apples of his cheeks and smoothed his brows.

“Thank you for tonight,” you said. “You should get going.”

“No, you’re the one I should be thanking,” he replied, giving you one last embrace before getting ready to head towards the door.

Both of your legs felt like lead, neither of you wanting to leave the other after years of being apart. With a smile, he moved towards the door.

In silence, you examined him for the first time in four years. He was taller than before-- Bulkier, too. It looked like he worked out since he was in college, his plain shirt stretching against his pectoral muscles.

But still, he was the same Shinsou Hitoshi you had always loved.

You glanced at his bared arms and your eyes widened. “Oh, wait--! Your coat!”

It had fallen off your shoulders and onto the floor during the heat of the moment, and you picked it up and brought it to him. As you held it out, his hands wrapped your outstretched ones around the fabric of his sweater.

“No, it’s okay,” he said with a shake of his head and a small grin on his lips. “You should keep it. It suits you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in warning, but hugged the coat to your body nonetheless. “I hope you know this means I’m never giving it back to you now.”

Hitoshi laughed. “I figured.”

He was about to grab the door knob when you blurted, “O-Or maybe I could give it back to you! If we were to, I don’t know, meet up for some food this week?”

Turning back in surprise, he was met with a look of utter embarrassment on your face. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire.

You bit your lip, unsure what had just come over you when you asked him on a date but also not regretting it for a moment.

“Only if you want,” you murmured, suddenly feeling more bashful.

Taking the hint, Hitoshi looked at you with a mix of wonder and amusement. “Sure. I’ll get some food with you just to have my coat back.”

You gasped, cheeks burning. “You know what? Never mind, I’m keeping this--!”

“I’m kidding,” he laughed, tone still teasing. “The jacket is just a bonus. What I’d really be there for is...the food.”

You buried your head in your hands and sighed. “I-- Why do I have to like you?”

He shrugged, feeling just as lost as you were. “Because feelings are strange.”

“They are,” you agreed. “But they’re worth it. And so are you.”

Hitoshi smiled as you gave him a gentle kiss goodnight.

“Have a safe drive home, Toshi.”

“Thank you. Go get some sleep now, kitten. We can talk when you wake up.”

You nodded feverishly, almost bouncing in anticipation at the thought of talking to him again. “I’m going to sleep right now so I wake up faster and get to talk to you sooner.”

A chuckle of surprise left his lips before he could stop himself. “You’re such a dork, you know? But I love that about you.”

Your face heated at the sound of the l-word as the two of you stared at each other, both in shock that the night happened and even happier that it did.

“I… I should go now,” he said in a daze. He didn’t want to leave and you didn’t want him to, but you knew he had work soon.

You nodded, waving at him as he left your house. “See you soon, Hitoshi.”

When the door closed shut behind him, you slumped a little. Tired and exhausted yet wishing you could see him soon. Though it might have been foolish, you couldn’t help but wish he was feeling the same.

Grabbing your phone on the coffee table, you unlocked it to check the time. You were about to shut it off and put it in your pocket when a notification bubble popped up on your screen.

“AirDrop: mememate would like to share a note,” it read, and a grin spread across your lips as you eagerly pressed accept.

The notepad application immediately opened up on your phone and you read the small message on the off-white display.

mememate: can’t wait for our date, y/n. p.s. i really really like you.

Letting out a surprised cry of joy, you held your phone to your chest, hugging it along with Hitoshi’s jacket he had left you.

From the other side of the door, Hitoshi had heard your scream and responded with a laugh of his own. A feeling of warmth in his heart as he placed his phone in his pocket and headed for his car. Thank goodness for AirDrop.

Your heart was pounding and your lips were still pulsing from the way he kissed you. Even as you got ready for bed and drifted off into a restful sleep, the silly smile never fell from your face.

You were grateful he came to get you at the nightclub, and you were grateful he was the recipient of your memes that day at the amusement park.

He made mistakes in the past and you were no saint either, but you had an opportunity to heal those wounds and be with Hitoshi again.

And you just couldn’t wait for your next date together.

a/n: AHHH THAT WAS A LOT,, pls let me know what you think! i know some readers never want to forgive shinsou at all and that’s okay, but i do think y/n forgives him and still really cares about him [and maybe l-words him? o.o] so i hope u support it 🥺 ilysm and thank you for reading! lmk ur thoughts !! xx

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

tuxedo iv, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: Your life? Oh, it’s normal. Your cat turned into a man yesterday and you just now humped his leg to orgasm. Sorry, what? That’s not normal? O-Of course, it is! It’s like... having a roommate! You argue because you recorded him without his consent. You eat noodles that he’s trying not to bat at all meal. There are skeletons in your closet. Your fingers get stuck in a Chinese finger trap and then you get fingered. Totally normal, by the way!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; Yoongi LOVES his box; smut (fem reader, mild restraint, penetrative sex, forced orgasms, intentional voyeurism (tsk tsk, Shooky), fingering); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft shy boy Jeon Jungkook (gasp!!!) POV and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin POV; breaking of the fourth wall; you ARE a furry, oh well

yes, I reference Jin’s iconic Billboard interview answer, The Lion King (1994), Yoongi’s BTS café cereal milkshake, Bill Nye the Science Guy, PENTAGON’s ‘DO or NOT’ / ‘Shine’ / ‘Humph!”, “you got no jams”, The Addams Family (1991) – also there’s a bit of a meme scavenger hunt, I reference too many to list XD

–

part i | part ii | part iii

So.

You kinda.

Humped your cat-man’s thigh to orgasm.

You animal.

“Ah… Yoongi,” you started as your cat�� man tilted his head, blinking slowly. Unnerving. Why was he staring like that? It reminded you of his previous cat self, where Shooky would watch you with his minty-green eyes, cat face expressionless, whiskers unmoving. What were cats thinking about all the time anyway?

Better yet, what the fuck was Min Yoongi thinking?

You knew what you were thinking. You were thinking that you couldn’t stare at you cum stain on his pink silk pajama leg all day, because that was a master yikes. He had tons of clothes still piled next to the front door of your apartment. All you had to do was convince him to change his outfit. Simple. Easy. Don’t make this weird. Be casual. Be cool as a cucumber. Chill out.

“Um… You should… take off the pajamas… so I can wash them… there are still more clothes you need to try on from the order, right…?”

Your dignity threw up their hands. Why do I even bother being here? I get ignored, the brain in here is smoother than KY Jelly on glass, and you would know, wouldn’t you, you–

“Take them off for me.”

“… P… Pardon?”

“I’m joking.”

He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at your raised hands. You abruptly dropped them, shoving them behind your back. When did that happen? Why did you make grabby hands like that? Surely not because you were expecting anything, right? Definitely not. Not you.

You need help.

Yoongi turned around, black fur tall swishing, the back of his pink silk pants half-lowered. Your jaw went slack, only to forcefully shut back into place as you realized he was still wearing his black boxer briefs since you had spent yesterday sewing tail holes in his convenience store underwear. Of course, he was still wearing them. There was no reason to take them off.

What, did you want to look at his booty again or something?

(Yes.)

He went through the doorframe of your bedroom without saying a word.

Hold on a second.

Did Yoongi let you ride his thigh to orgasm, be sweet to you for two seconds, only to fucking bounce without a peep of acknowledgment? Just fucking yeet? Act like that was totally ordinary behavior and saunter off?

Say sike right now.

A millisecond of bravery shot through you and you bolted out of your chair, your desk rattling with your sudden action.

"Yoongi–!"

You nearly collided into him. You weren’t expecting him to be facing you and you yelped in surprise, skidding on your heels. His hands stopped your hips, freezing you in place so you didn't barrel headfirst into his chest. You flailed about, struggling to regain your balance. All this happening while he continued giving you that deadpan stare. Did anything faze this (cat) man? Shit, you were too close to his face. So close you could feel his breath on your nose.

"You should change too."

Brain malfunctioning at the softness of his tone.

"... W-What?"

Then your neck, ears, face, even your past and future self, the whole timeline became hotter than a supernova, brain erupting into nuclear fusion as Yoongi's deft fingers slid up to the waistband of your leggings, hooking underneath, stroking your skin. He leaned forward, dark eyes out of your vision, chin hovering above your shoulder.

"Urk?!"

He started pushing your leggings down.

He started.

Pushing.

Them.

DOWN!!!

"You can't stay like this all day, right?" Yoongi murmured gently, voice so deep it was resonating in your empty brain, completely clear of all thoughts except those cool fingers pushing your black leggings down, the skintight fabric catching your soaked panties and taking those on the path to hell too, which was probably where you were headed at the rate this was going. "It would be a good idea to change clothes, I think."

You think, Yoongi?

Not you.

You don't have think.

A shrill barrage of low meowing cut through the silence.

Your phone was ringing violently in your room. Yoongi paused, backing up with a frown.

"Why is your ringtone a cat chattering?" he asked, tilting his head quizzically. The continuing sonata of cat chitters escalated before his dark eyes narrowed in recognition. He glared at you and pulled his hands away from your hips, snapping you out of your daze.

"You recorded me?"

"What, what, what?" You blinked rapidly, hearing the familiar sharp chirps and barks of Shooky the cat yelling at birds outside the window. "Oh! Well, yeah... it was funny," you explained weakly, trying to shake out the fog of your horny brain.

"There's nothing funny about trespassers," Yoongi hissed, turning his heel and swiftly marching away.

"Trespassers?" you echoed, blinking in confusion. That’s why he yelled at them as a cat? Did he think he owned all the land the sun touches or something? The sound was getting louder and louder, indicating the call was about to be missed. No time to think about it. You rushed back into your room, nearly half tripping with your leggings only partway on your ass, scrambling to answer your phone. There was an uncomfortable squish between your legs. Yikes. You did need to change.

"Hello? Oh, yes, the video? I'm putting it in the Dropbox right now," you babbled, clicking out of a bizarre pop-up ad with some brown-haired guy in a sienna floral shirt and a boxy smile before placing the exported video in the shared Dropbox folder.

"Sorry, yeah, I know I usually have it done earlier. It's been a weird couple of days..."

Kim Seokjin was furious.

Furious!

His best friend ignored his face. His beautiful face! How could she! He fumed, deciding to instead spend his time wisely, as he always did.

He stared at his reflection and nodded, stroking his chin. Yes. A true winner. Look at that brilliant smile. Perfect. He looked great today, as he did every day. Seokjin looked away from the mirror on his desk and went back to his MapleStory life.

After a quick change and final edits of the completed video sent off to the client, you left your room to find that Yoongi had stacked his new clothes on the coffee table. The brown cardboard box was on the sofa with him (???), as if it was a human being instead of an ordinary box. He had neatly folded the plastic packaging and placed it on the kitchen counter so you could sort it into the correct recycling.

"Oh... thanks."

He was now wearing a white t-shirt and black pants that actually seemed like they fit, the back of said pants halfway down his butt to accommodate for his tail. He was watching that historical drama; eyes glued the television. The dark brown orbs were hidden by his curtain of black hair. His pointed black ears were turned away from your direction, as if he had no desire to listen to anything you had to say.

As usual.

Yoongi's response was grunting disapprovingly at you.

You sighed, feeling a little guilty.

"To be fair, I couldn't really ask your consent when you were a cat."

Your cat-man appeared to be out of fucks to give. "You should do laundry," he huffed gruffly.

You scooted away awkwardly. "Er... yeah. Let me order some delivery for lunch first..."

"Yoongi."

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

He stared at his chopsticks, holding them up high.

"Hmm..."

His pink lips twisted, narrowing his eyes. The fingers in his other hand twitched. He had been staring at the noodles in his ramen for the past five minutes. They were probably cold now. You were getting a bit worried that he didn't like carbs or something. But then you realized that wasn't the case.

His fingers twitched again.

"They're noodles. Not string."

Yoongi didn't reply, itching to bat at the long noodles.

"Just put them in your mouth."

He gave you this look. As if to tell you, you don't usually say that. Usually someone else tells you that.

You thinned your mouth into a line.

"I know you're admiring the skinny legend that is noodles, but, yes, they're edible. Need I remind you that you used to eat string and I had to pull it out of your mouth when you choked on it?"

Yoongi scowled. Apparently, he did not like being reminded. It wasn’t that pleasant for you to remember either. At least you never had to wait until it passed through his body and never had to pull it out of the other end (ew). He peered them for several more seconds before putting them in his mouth. You noticed his ears perked up as he ate.

"You like them?" you asked.

He hummed, not looking at you. Was Yoongi still angry about the recording thing? You weren't changing your ringtone regardless of his dissatisfaction. It was cute. You liked it. And he was being a drama queen, acting all catty.

Hold on.

He was a cat.

(Man.)

"What is this?"

"Dessert."

You took a sip and choked a little at the grainy taste.

"Is that cereal?"

"Yeah. It's too hard. Better this way."

You gawked at him, holding the weird cereal milkshake with one hand and his half-sewn pants in the other. Was Yoongi being serious or fucking with you? You couldn't tell. His expression was completely neutral. His cat ears were straight up, trained in your direction, judging your reaction. He lifted his free hand and dropped a handful of rice crisps on the top of the thick white drink.

Well.

Not your preferred thick white drink.

(You nasty.)

He nodded sagely and sat down beside you.

"Show me how to sew."

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for you to, please, consider the following.

See, by all recommendations of building healthy relationships, you should have been a responsible human being and had a serious, but necessary, conversation with your (new?) cat-man.

Hey, Yoongi, I find you quite physically attractive and we had that moment in my bedroom, so maybe there's some chemistry and, oh, I don't know, maybe you could stick that prefect looking dick inside me because I've been thinking about it nonstop since (checking watch) the literal second I realized it existed, not to be too forward or anything, you know?

That kind of speech could get you a quick restraining order in most cases, but this was your cat (man) who had lived with you – maybe against his will but, then again, he got fed regularly and when you were previously a stray you can’t complain.

So.

Do or not?

Hmm...

You could have admitted these things, but, alas, this was not the way. No, the way was to remain an absolute fucking mess every time Yoongi leaned over your shoulder to inspect your needlework, nearly stabbing yourself in the finger, your heart leaping your throat, strangling yourself with anxiety.

Fun!

Could everything be quickly solved by telling the truth?

Debatable. Yoongi didn’t seem like the kind of (cat) man to give you a straight answer. Not because he couldn’t. Mostly because he seemed to enjoy watching you struggle. Were you picking up on that?

No. You were too busy thinking about dick.

His dick.

Honestly, don't know if you should laugh or cry right now.

Jeon Jungkook flipped his phone around and around in his hand, scrunching up his face.

Should he say something?

Yes. No. Yes? No. Yes… No, no, no.

He sighed and threw his phone onto his bed.

He missed and it slid off, hitting the floor.

That was a bad sign.

“Shit.”

He dived onto the bed, scabbing around on the hardwood to pick up the fallen device. Ah, how come he was thinking about this now? He knew why. He had watched a funny cat video of a tuxedo cat and it reminded him of a certain naughty little fluffball always following around a certain owner. Jungkook hadn’t contacted said owner in nearly a year. Wouldn’t it look bad if he said anything now? But he couldn’t not think about it either. That smile was on his mind all the time now. That feeling from back then, floating around in his head. He sighed again, followed by inhaling with his upper teeth pressed against his inner lower lip, creating a loud sucking sound that no one else could hear because he lived alone.

Alone.

Jungkook lifted his phone, dying sunlight reflecting off the screen, a shine that blinded him for a short moment. He clicked his tongue, squinting as he spied the number still on the screen.

“Ah, why am I always a loser in front of love?”

He wasn’t really saying it to anyone in particular. No one could reply to him anyway.

He tossed the phone carelessly on the pillow and it slid behind it, falling in between the mattress and the bedframe.

“Shit!”

Jungkook spent five minutes fishing his phone out of the narrow crevice before firmly placing it on the bed beside him, pointing at it angrily, glaring at it.

“No! Bad.”

The phone did nothing. It was not sentiment.

Humph! He let out a frustrated puff of breath and flopped down on the bed.

His phone flew up from the force of his flop and smacked him in the nuts.

“SHIT!”

“Huh, you pick up things so fast. So meticulous.”

You watched as Yoongi brought the needle through the fabric in slow but clean strokes, following your previous demonstration. For someone who only had opposable thumbs for less than two days, he was surprisingly dexterous. Seemed like he could do a lot with his hands. No. Stop that. Stop being weird.

“Are you a genius?”

Yoongi didn’t hesitate, not looking up.

“Of course.”

You regretted asking. He continued, oblivious to your annoyed expression.

“I’m a cat.”

“All cats are geniuses?” you retorted disbelievingly.

“Most of them are.” His eyes flickered to you, eyebrows raising. “Compared to humans anyway.”

Was this a dig at you and your missing brain cells after running into things chasing after him and your brain exploding at his hotness? Which he wasn’t, by the way. Yeah, that’s right. Take that, Min Yoongi! You’re being mean, so therefore your attractiveness points are going down in this brain, yes, they are and there’s nothing you can do about it, yup, absolutely NOTHING–

He held up the pants, showing off his handiwork.

“Did I do a good job?”

His voice was soft, unsure, head slightly tilted, velvety ears eagerly perked to listen to your response.

Oh no.

Oh nooo.

Oh nooooooo.

He’s cute.

“Yeah. That looks amazing, Yoongi,” you heard yourself saying, smiling at him.

His fair-skinned cheeks flushed pink, lowering the pants quickly to snip the excess thread off, placing the needle in the cat-shaped pincushion like you had done earlier so he could carefully tie a knot to seal his hard work.

Shit.

You were whipped for him.

Damnnit.

To be honest, nothing had changed. You were whipped for him as a cat too.

“I’m going to clear out some space the closet so you have somewhere to put your clothes, okay?”

“A-ah… Thanks…” he mumbled, picking up another pair of pants. Jeans this time.

“Oh, with these you can simply cut the hole. No need to sew because this type of fabric won’t fray too much. Ah, but not directly on the seam. Maybe here?” You pointed slightly to the right of the back middle seam. Your mouth kept talking despite not having any more instructions for him. “Did you know the butt rip was fashionable among women for a little while? Under the pocket though, not the center. That’s just weird.”

Yoongi tilted his head the other way.

“Women are weird,” he said in a deadpan voice.

You narrowed your eyes. “Oi.”

He picked up the scissors, raising an eyebrow at you. “Are you not weird?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He’s got you there. Shit. You puffed your cheeks and turned around, stalking off to your bedroom. Why was he always right? One day, he won’t be right and you’ll mark it on your fucking calendar. Humph.

You slowed at your doorframe, remembering his sheepishly proud face as he showed off his sewing. Crap. What was Min Yoongi so cute for? And how were you supposed to look at other guys after knowing your cat (man) was so damn adorable? And observant and diligent? And driven to be independent, asking questions and trying to do things on his own not even forty-eight hours after becoming human? Cooking, sewing, folding his own clothes… what’s next, playing the fucking piano?

Yeah, right.

You snorted and went into your bedroom.

“What’s this?”

You looked up, half-buried in idol merchandise you didn’t even know you had. How long had these sweatshirts been sitting here in their plastic packages? And these posters left in the tubes at the back of your closet? You shouldn’t own so much stuff. You should sell it. You weren’t going to, because these were limited edition items and you would have to be crazy to sell stuff with the cute faces of your favorite idols. You stuck you head out of the closet to see what Yoongi was referring to.

“What? Oh, that?”

You wheezed in embarrassment, ducking back in the closet, pretending to be busy.

“Uh… so… YouTube and Twitch had a crackdown on using copyrighted music and I thought, well, maybe I could maybe make my own, so I brought a keyboard but, uh…”

You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly, trying to figure out how to say you had no musical inclination and only had the ability to appreciate it.

“Basically, I got no jams.”

The keyboard was still in its box. You had opened it and attempted to learn piano, but well, you were shit. Also, you gave up pretty quickly. It was embarrassing considering you had spent so much money on it and were all confident when buying it, only for it to become a hidden occupant in the back of your closet. This was before Shooky – er, Yoongi – had come into your life. Yes. It had been there for literal years.

“I was going to donate it,” you added with a sigh.

You suddenly noticed something out of the corner of your eye. You frowned and reached in, grabbing the thin, hard object before pulling it out.

A…

Skeleton in your closet.

A long-lost Halloween decoration? Why was this here?

“Can I have it?”

You looked up, holding the mysterious plastic skeleton like a small child. “What?”

Yoongi pointed to the keyboard box, black tail swishing rapidly. There was a liveliness in his dark brown eyes and his pointed ears were sticking straight up. You narrowed your eyes.

“You don’t want that skinny box for some reason, do you?” you accused.

He pursed his lips at you, scowling. “No, you can throw away the box. I want to keep the keyboard.”

Huh? “Uh… okay, I guess. More space in the closet, I suppose. Oh, wait…” You stumbled into the back of the closet, feeling around. “I brought a stand for it, hold on… fuck!” You jammed your finger against a metal pole and howled, quickly retreating your hand to massage it. Fuck, that hurt! Scowling, you reached back in to grab the metal keyboard stand and yank it out from between your tightly packed clothes.

“Are you dead?”

“Shit!”

You jumped nearly ten feet, almost banging your head on the clothing rail if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s swift movement of grabbing your shoulders, pulling you to him. He didn’t have to pull far, because he was right behind you. How did he always sneak up on you when he wore a damn bell around his neck that announced his presence? Sorcery. Aliens. Voodoo witchcraft. Now you were convinced these things existed.

(Your cat turning into a man wasn’t enough for you to believe in magic? What’s wrong with you?)

“You’re really clumsy,” Yoongi remarked.

No, you’re spooky, you thought. One of your hands was on his chest. Instant heart palpitations. And handsome. Crap.

“Are you going to do something weird again?”

Weird? You were never weird. What was this man going on about? You needed to reprimand him. Put him in his place! Enough is enough, Min Yoongi! You can’t win over me every time! You raised your head to face him, opening your mouth to give him a piece of your mind.

Yoongi was centimeters away from your face.

You froze.

Ice effect overlapping your whole body.

You dropped the keyboard stand.

Thankfully, it simply fell against your clothing, leaning against your sweatshirts. It stayed upright, held up by the clothing. You didn’t have to worry about it for the time being. It was perfectly fine, unlike you. You were not fine. Not fine at all, staring at Yoongi’s upturned upper lip and unreadable dark brown eyes, slowly blinking at you. Hands on your shoulders, holding you close to him.

Not letting go.

!!!

Jeon Jungkook placed his phone on his desk and chopped the air, threatening it.

It wasn’t sentient.

He still didn’t trust it.

He glared at his phone angrily and shuffled back to his bed to have a nice, calm rest that didn’t involve his nuts getting destroyed. Ugh. He was bored. He had plenty to do. Schoolwork. Studying. Cleaning his room covered in clothes. Attempting to cook.

Jungkook made a face at the ceiling.

The last time he tried to cook some glazed sweet potatoes they had been glued to the plate somehow. A neat magic trick, but not edible. He couldn’t get them to unstick, much less be eaten. He had to order out that night. Come to think of it, he spent most of his money on ordering out. Maybe that was a bad habit.

He ran a hand through his bleached, blond hair that had too much toner in it so it had turned slightly silvery-purple. An at-home experiment. Another bad habit.

Jungkook groaned, rolling onto his face.

“I need someone older to take care of me,” he mumbled into the sheets.

Someone older… with a certain tuxedo cat, perhaps? He pouted even though no one was there to witness his cuteness.

“Ahhhhhhh…”

He yelled quietly into his bedding, letting go.

Finally thinking about you.

In front of you, he could tease. He could poke fun. It was easy. You were just so flustered around him, not really trying to hide your attraction to him. The first time he had met you was when he went bowling with Seokjin-hyung (he won, much to the disdain of his hyung). You had stopped by to say hello and Seokjin had introduced you two. It had been a fairly innocent meeting, mostly because for a long time Jungkook couldn’t open his mouth to say anything at all. You were wearing a huge white t-shirt with a colorful strawberry graphic, a wide-brimmed straw hat, and white sneakers with black laces. It had been a hot summer day, he remembered. You were already pretty simply by standing there, chatting animatedly with his hyung. Jungkook tried not to look too closely, sneaking glances in between your conversation.

Seokjin had absolutely no qualms about shitting on your outfit.

“Yah, grandma, you’re off to pick some strawberries in the field or something?”

You had shoved him, rolling your eyes. “You’re a grandpa too! Look at you, losing to kid.”

Was that referring to him? “Ah, I’m not a kid.” Shit. His Busan dialect slipped out a little in his nervousness, deepening his voice.

Your cheeks had peppered pink. “A-ah… right…”

Oh?

Oh!

Oh!!!

You shook your head abruptly and reached into your tuxedo-cat-printed tote bag. “Here’s your freaking hard drive, you monkey,” you had said to Seokjin, handing over the small paper bag.

“Did you manage to restore all my files?” Seokjin asked worriedly, completely ignoring your insult.

You shrugged, looking rueful. “I don’t know how many you had, but I did the best I could.” You leaned forward, eyes narrowing, whispering in his ear. Didn’t matter. Jungkook was close enough to hear.

“Stop downloading porn!”

Jungkook snorted.

Seokjin glared at you. “Excuse me, I am living a healthy lifestyle, do not judge me!” he hissed. “And not in front of the child!”

Yeah, well, Jungkook didn’t let you think he was a child for long.

He wasn't really sure why he was attracted to you. It wasn't only because you were pretty. He just had a strong urge to get a reaction out of you. Ah, maybe that was it. He liked seeing your reactions to things and did everything he could to get more and more interesting reactions out of you. You never told Jungkook to stop. You told Seokjin to stop all the time.

"I swear if you make one more pun, I'm going to tie your tongue into a knot!"

"Then I'd really be tongue-tied, eh? Eh?! WAIT, NO, WATCH THE FACE, NOT MY FACE!!!"

Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to mess with you.

Fuck.

(Yes, actually.)

He couldn't stop. It was too fun. It didn't help that you had a cute surprised face. Didn't help that you had a great smile. Didn’t help that you had an amazing body under your clothes and knew exactly how to use it (Jungkook wouldn’t admit it, but he learned a lot from you). Didn't help that you would chase after your tuxedo cat and scoop up that furball even after getting railed by him, which Jungkook found very impressive.

"Shooky, you loon, I told you to stop running on the counters..."

And you would cradle that cat to your chest, petting his head and waiting for him to purr and lick your nose before releasing him, satisfied that he was no longer going to be a menace. He still was though. He was a cat. You forgave Shooky every time.

Just like how you let Jungkook get away with everything.

Present Jungkook frowned, rolling onto his back, frowning at the ceiling. Maybe you thought he was a fuckboy and had a negative image of him. He scratched his head, tongue in cheek, thinking hard. No. You didn't seem like the type. You were never angry at him, not really, not even when he interrupted your work to mess around in bed. Exasperated, maybe, but it never seemed like you were holding an internal grudge or upset at his nonchalant actions. Ah, but he hadn’t tried to talk to you in almost a whole year. Would you think he was a dick if he tried to contact you now? He couldn’t ask you. He couldn’t ask your best friend. Seokjin-hyung still had no idea.

Jungkook laughed to himself.

He kind of went behind his hyung's back, whoops.

He looked to his left side, the side you used to fall asleep on when he spent the night. He could imagine it, your past self and his past self, your hair on your pillow, blankets loosely over your chest, his hand on your breasts as you slept.

A pair of mint-green eyes glaring at him from the left side of your body.

Jungkook remembered poking that pink nose with his index finger, the rest of his hand still on your tits. The tuxedo cat had given him a very displeased look.

"Are you mad?"

The cat didn't reply. He was a cat.

"You're really lucky. You get to be with her every day," Jungkook had whispered, not wanting to wake you up. "She takes good care of you, you know. I see how much she loves you."

The cat closed his eyes, resting his furry head on your arm.

"Do you love her back?"

Maybe. Maybe not. Jungkook didn't know. He wasn't a cat. He couldn't ask in cat language. He let go of your breasts for a second to scratch the top of Shooky's head, right between those velvety ears. He began purring like a little motor.

You continued your adventures in la la land, oblivious to this interaction.

"I guess cats are kind of simple, huh?" Jungkook mused, smoothing out the black fur on top of that little head. "You don't have to think about much. You don't have to get a job, plan for the future, or worry about being a good husband."

His hand lowered.

"But I do."

You breathed softly against him, nuzzling closer to his body. Jungkook put his hand back on your breasts and you stilled, lost in your dreams. He breathed out, warmth against your skin. He saw the side of your lips twitch ever so slightly upwards, but maybe it was only his imagination wishing to see what he wanted.

Only a wish.

He had placed his nose by your cheek and breathed in, losing himself in dreams as well.

Yoongi looked into your eyes.

Then both of you turned to opposite sides and sneezed loudly.

"Fuck–"

"That was horrible," Yoongi hissed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and backing up. "Ugh, human bodies are awful."

You shook your head roughly. "Someone must be thinking about me... and you, I guess..." you mumbled, clearing your head before prodding him in the chest. "Also, last time I checked, now you're human too, so jokes on you. Hope you enjoy the suffering!" You stuck your tongue out childishly.

Yoongi gave you an annoyed look, reaching over you to grab the keyboard stand. You stiffened at his closeness, but he quickly withdrew, taking the metal stand and leaving you disappointed, but not surprised. Couldn't even pretend to be shocked.

He lifted it up so it wouldn’t drag on the floor and began to walk out of the room, ignoring you.

Classic.

You thinned your mouth into a line and picked up the white plastic skeleton. What to do with this? Fuck it. Back into the closet it goes, along with your winter wardrobe, summer wardrobe, and other knickknacks.

Well.

Maybe you could donate a couple things to charity.

Like this Chinese finger trap. Why was this here?

You stuck your fingers in it.

S... shit!

Yoongi reappeared to grab the keyboard. You opened your mouth, about to ask for help, looking up to see your cat-man standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, glaring. Very displeased and disapproving, reminding you a whole lot of a certain tuxedo fluffball.

"I'll say it again."

Huh? You gave him a confused look.

He pointed to his pointed, velvety black ears.

"I'm a cat, duh."

And then he walked out. Fuck him. You didn't need his help.

You couldn’t get it off.

Panik!

Yes, you can. It was just a finger trap. You were smart. You graduated university. You had been a human for many more years than Min Yoongi. He had been human for two days! And besides, Yoongi was mean. You didn’t need a meanie to help you. You were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need no (cat) man.

Kalm.

You…

You couldn’t get it off!!!

PANIK!!!!!!!

“… What are you doing?”

You were the epitome of the emoji holding back tears.

“Y… Yoongi…” you whined.

He blinked at you, holding the manual of the keyboard upside down. The keyboard was already set up on the stand, pushed up against one of the walls of your living room. He was using the cardboard box that his clothes came in – he really loved that damn box – as a makeshift seat.

“Are you dying?”

You held up your hands, pouting. The bronze dragon Chinese finger trap was still stuck on your index fingers. It had been roughly twenty, maybe thirty minutes.

Your cat-man just blinked at you and it.

“I… can’t get it off… Help…”

He raised an eyebrow and put the manual on the keyboard before walking over to you. He placed his chin in between his index finger and his thumb, frowning. Looking this way and that. The realization was slowly kicking in.

Yoongi wasn’t hiding his smirk very well.

“You know how to take it off!” you howled, smacking him in the chest.

He cackled, backing up as you repeatedly whacked him with the back of your hands, furious because it was obvious that he knew what to do and was simply not doing it to piss you off, his grin getting wider and wider, still not saying anything, this little shit, backing up into your living room as you chased him, stupid cat-man was fucking fast, dodging you easily, your joined hands and annoyed demeanor making you a bit wobbly.

“Min Yoongi, I swear I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” he teased, raising his hands in mock innocence. “Maybe I don’t know?”

You scowled at him. “You definitely know.”

He smirked.

Shit.

It was sexy and you were supposed to be mad!

You were next to the keyboard now. And a certain something. Hm. You jerked your head to the cardboard box. His eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“I would.”

“You wouldn’t, you heathen.”

“You better fucking believe I would!”

(You’re threatening to recycle a cardboard box to force your cat-man to get you out of a metal finger trap that you put yourself in. Um, are you okay? Better yet, are both of you okay???)

He marched over to you, relenting with an angry huff, yanking up your hands.

“There’s a trick to it, of course.”

He pressed the dragon’s horns in tandem with the dragon’s beard on either side and the trap released your red fingers, making you gasp at the sudden freedom. Holy shit. You stared at your freed index fingers. You had two hands. Wow. Amazing. Show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique…

Yoongi placed the finger trap on the coffee table.

“Hmph. This thing is probably only worth three dollars.”

You poked your index fingers together, suddenly ashamed. “Sorry I threatened your box.”

Yoongi grunted, cat ears flicking back and forth in annoyance.

You poked his stomach with your index fingers. “Er… I just… wanted you to help me...”

“You weren’t going to do it anyway.”

You puffed your cheeks, narrowing your eyes, irritation flaring back. “Well, maybe I was! What were you going to do, leave me like that, unable to use my hands for the rest of my life?” You jabbed him repeatedly in the chest, driving your point home in between your snappish words. “Hmm? I need hands to do things! Important things!”

Yoongi suddenly grabbed your wrists and held them up over your head.

(Aw shit, here we go again.)

“Y-Yoongi?!”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“What important things do you need to do with your hands?” he asked.

Oh shit.

Oh no.

Why was his vice suddenly so deep? Did he even know???

Your eyes widened, brain malfunctioning, your last two working brain cells rushing to the library to find the book titled ‘things you can do with your hands’, opening it, reading, handsy things. That was it. That was all you had at this moment. Why was it that your brain had the memory equal to the RAM of a fucking Tamagotchi every time your cat-man touched you?

Oh, yeah, that’s right, because he was a cat literally two days ago and you never thought about fucking your cat because that’s just fucking weird, but now he’s a man, so maybe it’s okay, unless it’s not, and then what does that make you? FUCKING WEIRD, THAT’S WHAT.

You yelped as your back collided to the wall. When had you walked that far? What was going on? What was life??? You were yanked back to reality as Yoongi leaned down, tilting his head, eyebrow still cocked, dark eyes darker from his fluffy black hair falling over his eyes.

“I hear you don’t always like being able to use your hands.”

Holyfuckingshitcrap.

Instantly, your cheerful brain decided to play the memory of you begging Jeon Jungkook to hold down your wrists so you couldn’t stop him and his relentless assault on your pussy, one hand grasping both your wrists and the other rubbing two fingers on your clit, thrusting his hard cock in and out of you as he abused the sensitive bundle of nerves, pinning you to your bed, panting in your face.

“You like this, noona?” Jungkook had purred.

(Respectfully.)

Voice low, deep, and sexy, driving you insane, waves of pleasure crashing into you over and over, pussy throbbing with repeated orgasm.

“F-Fuck, yes, oh fuck, Jungkook, yes… don’t s-stooop…”

Shooky had sat on the highest level of his cat tree, glaring down at you two.

Shit, shit, shit…

Yoongi leaned in even more, eyes disappearing, lips next to your ear. You felt him transfer one of your wrists to his other hand, now holding both with one hand as the other fell against your body.

“In fact, I’ve seen it firsthand,” he whispered, low, soft, dangerous.

Your brain ended the film reel in your head, giving you two mental thumbs-up and beaming happily at you as if it had done a great thing.

No, brain.

You’ve fucked me over and now I’m horny as fuck!

A needy whimper popped out of you as Yoongi’s free hand slipped between your bodies, fingers dancing deftly across the fabric of your sweatshirt, following the rhythm of your racing heart as it went down, down, too fast, sanity unable to keep up, you rising into his touch, his fingers sliding underneath the waistband of your leggings. This pair wasn’t as tight as the previous pair, but the fabric still clung to your skin just as tightly.

Wait. Is that you? Moaning?

(Yes.)

He dragged them down your hips, having to let go of the waistband for a moment to push them past the sides before resuming, you moaning in the space where he should have a human ear, but he didn’t, because Yoongi was a cat-man and his pointed furry ears were at the top of his head.

“Y… Yoongi…”

“Hm?”

His soft lips lightly pressed against your ear and you shivered. His grip on your wrists wasn’t very tight. You could break out any time. He was only loosely holding you.

“I… I am…” you quivered, voice shaking.

“I want to make you feel good.”

His murmur was so gentle, so calm, so quiet that it almost didn’t feel real. Almost a purr.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Thump.

“Yes.”

You said it.

Your panties were leaving with your leggings, shoved down mid-thigh. Your name in your ear, spoken by Min Yoongi, his body hovering over yours, black hair against your cheek, his fingers slipping between your legs, your heart slamming in your chest, thighs squeezing his hand.

“Feels nice here,” Yoongi mumbled, breath feathering on your skin. A single finger grazed your wetness and you gasped, his raspy chuckle in your ear. “Wet.”

Your eye twitched, slightly annoyed. No, really? Thanks for letting me know, it��s not like I can fucking feel it myself or anything, I absolutely need your riveting play-by-play–

“Urk!”

Yoongi scooped two fingers into your pussy and felt around inside, rubbing his fingertips against your throbbing walls.

“Ah…” He was breathing hard, pushing them in joint by joint, his own inhale shallowing. “Fuck, it’s so tight in here, are you alright?”

Oh, my fucking God, Yoongi, just fucking destroy me, I’m not a virgin!

You sucked in a shaking breath, mentally beating your inner thot back down. “F-Feels really nice, Yoongi… just… a little more…” He sank his fingers all the way to the knuckles. “Fuuuck, yes, oh, fuck yes…”

You rocked your hips into it, moaning, eyes closing, building up a pace, not really waiting for him to figure out that he could move his fingers too. It didn’t matter though, because Yoongi was highly observant and diligent, and, as much as you avoided to admit it, he had seen you get fingered hundreds of times, all over the apartment, in all sorts of embarrassing positions and with plenty of visible, graphic, high-definition detail, better than any porn video.

By – yup, you guessed it – Jeon Jungkook.

Yoongi began his own pace to match yours, thrusting his two fingers in and out until you were a hopeless mess, whining and bucking against his touch, your juices coating his hand, staring up at the ceiling with the tips of his black ears in your peripheral vision, tilted towards you to listen to every single one of your sounds. His heavy exhale invaded your head, lost in Yoongi’s rhythm that was uniquely his, only able to cry out, harder or faster, losing yourself in him, his scent, the smell of your vanilla body wash, and the rapidly strengthening sweetness between your legs rising up despite it dripping down your thighs.

“Yoongi… oh, fuck, Yoongi…”

It just felt too good, speed, strength, sound, wet messy squelches of his fingers entering you over and over, your pussy responding in kind, shuddering around them, clenching tight, hips rocking into every plunge to deepen the stroke, prolonging your own orgasm, savoring the moment.

“You feel so good…”

That wasn’t you.

That was Yoongi.

Whispering in your ear, probably not even realizing his own dirty talk.

“So fucking wet and warm,” he murmured, the rumble purring in his chest, soothing but also far too sexy. “Sucking my fingers back in, fucking me back… You really like me this much?” His lips brushed your ear, chaste kisses compared to the rough fingering of his slippery digits pushing into you repeatedly, the sounds getting louder and lewder because you were getting wetter and wetter. “Am I really that good-looking to you?”

Yoongi, are you BLIND, DEAF, or BOTH???

“Fuck yes, you are, what the fuck?” you gasped out, turning your head slightly, one of his dark brown eyes locking with yours, your jaw clenched with the effort of you holding back your orgasm to respond to his ludicrous question. “You are so fucking handsome I couldn’t even last two days of being in your presence, thirsting after you!”

You heard Yoongi chuckle, the sound resonating and teasing your ear.

“Actually, you couldn’t even last one, remember?” he drawled slyly.

His knuckle grazed your throbbing, aroused clit.

“Fuck!”

Your body twisted, whining wail torn out of you as you came, pushing your head and hands against the wall, nerves sparking and shaking, intense pleasure flooding all over your senses from holding back, breathless whimpers of Yoongi’s name, grinding into his hand. He let go of your wrists. They prickled with pins and needles of lost circulation, but you didn’t give a shit, grabbing his hand between your legs and shoving it back in you before it could retreat, riding out your orgasm, milking it for every single gram of ecstasy, cherishing every single second of another’s hand inside you, not just another but your disturbingly attractive man who was previously a cat sleeping in your lap exactly forty-eight hours ago as you innocently watched American Horror Story.

“Y… Yoongi?” you panted, orgasm petering out, trickling waves subsiding.

“Y… Yes?”

He wasn’t making fun of you. You could hear the nervousness in his voice.

“Can I kiss you?”

His face appeared in front of yours.

“Yes.”

You didn’t think twice.

You closed your eyes and leaned forward, lips on his, your satisfied sigh tickling his skin, kissing him hard, the intimacy you desired for so long, moments you spent all year trying to keep it at bay, no one to show your affection but tiny kisses on Shooky’s furry head, but now one of your hands was cupping Yoongi’s cheek, deepening the kiss, him pressing back against you, sandwiching you between the wall and himself. You let go of his hand between your legs and held both his cheeks, peppering light pecks against that lovely mouth. You wanted to kiss him over and over, so nice, so lovely, his barely-there gasps drifting on your lips with every kiss.

His fingers slipped out and touched your thigh.

You drew back, heart thudding, still holding his face, his round cheeks a little squished in your hands.

He raised his hand and put his pussy-soaked fingers in his mouth.

You jerked your hands back. “Y-Yoongi!” you exclaimed, shocked.

His pink tongue slipped around his fingers, tiny kitten licks to slurp it all up. He hummed, small smirk playing on his lips. You gawked at him.

“Y-You don’t have to–”

“You like it, don’t you?”

You shut your mouth, cheeks burning with heat.

Yoongi smirked wider, nimble tongue slipping around and around, your eyes glued to the movement, brain already dreaming up lecherous scenarios. His dark brown eyes flickered to you, eyebrows rising.

“Hmm…”

“W-What?” you snapped, trying to collect yourself. He was giving you that look again. That enigmatic expression of maybe-maybe-not. Yoongi shrugged, taking his fingers out of his mouth.

“I think we should do that again sometime.”

Your mind went blank.

Again? Now? Later?

Next Tuesday?

WHEN, MIN YOONGI, WHEN?

“… Urk?”

Those cunning dark brown orbs sparkled with mischief. “Hmm, then again, maybe we’ll do something different next time,” he pondered out loud, taunting you with the suggestive depth of his voice. He backed up, tail swaying from side to side, his grin widening, turning into an open-mouthed smirk that showed off his pretty teeth and devious expression.

His next words were the verbal equivalent of pushing your full glass of brainpower right off the table and sending it crashing to the floor.

“I have a lot of things I want to try.”

part v

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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nyctophilin · 5 years ago

Text

Fake Affection | III

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Epilogue

Description: Han Jisung has been rejected by the girl he likes one to many times. He decides that he has had enough and is set on making her want him back. What could possibly make her want him more than seeing him with her rival after she boldly assumed he can’t find anyone better. That way Jisung and Y/N are stuck in a fake relationship until Jisung’s crush falls for him. Or he falls for someone else.

Pairing: Han x fem!Reader, Hyunjin x fem!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Genre: College!AU, Fake dating!AU, Angst, Fluff, eventual Smut

Warnings: swearing, mild groping, mild violence

Pearl note -> This got long. Yeah, things got interesting in this part. :)) Also, I realized I forgot to add something so I had to come back last minute and edit it. Yeah, sorry for the delay. :/ I hope y’all enjoy it! Feedback is very much appreciated.

The sun was shining brightly despite it being almost 6 PM. The temperature outside reached unusually high numbers for that time of the year, and Y/N decided to take advantage of that. Dressed in a forest green spring dress that reached her mid-thighs and offered a modest view of her cleavage, she was waiting for Jisung in front of her apartment complex. The dress she was wearing had short sleeves, but she decided not to take any jackets with her thanks to the weather forecast that predicted the temperatures to be high until later in the night.

She was clutching the strap of her purse tightly and impatiently checking the time on her phone every few minutes. It has been such a long time since she went on a date. Just because she was going there to make Mina jealous didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun. What better way to convince the other girl that she missed on a lot of fun than have fun?

Coming from the left side, she heard the sound of an engine approaching. Soon, a black Range Rover came to a gradual stop right in front of her, the front wheel almost climbing the sidewalk. From inside the car, Jisung gestured her to get in. She opened the door and climbed in, placing her purse over her knees before fastening her seatbelt.

Without much of a word, Jisung turned the steering wheel and started driving to a destination unknown to Y/N.

“I didn’t know you had a car.” She spoke, trying to get rid of the awkward atmosphere.

Jisung threw her a look before concentrating on the road again.

“It’s Chan’s. He let me borrow it for today.” A long sigh left his mouth. “After a long talk where he told me that if I hurt his baby, I’m dead.”

Y/N let out a chuckle, and Jisung smiled as well, as the memory of the silly conversation he had with the older man flooded his mind. Another minute passed, and the silence in the car was being filled by the pop music coming from the radio.

“You look pretty!” Jisung complimented, stealing another glance at her.

A bright smile invaded her facial features at his words.

“Thank you! I didn’t know where we were going, but I figured a dress would be appropriate for many activities.” She chirped, the tiniest bit of excitement rolling off her tongue.

“What if we are going hiking?” Jisung said, and a smirk appeared on his face when he noticed her rolling her eyes from the corner of his eye.

“Then you can turn the car. I’m not coming!” Y/N crossed her hands under her chest and her mouth formed into a small pout.

“I’m joking. We are going to an outdoor cinema.”

She gave him a side look and raised an eyebrow.

“No offence, but how do you know when outdoor cinemas are happening? They don’t seem…” She eyes him up and down on the driver’s seat. “...your style.”

Jisung resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her comment. After a moment of silence, he sighed silently accepting her words.

“Mina told me about it three weeks ago. She said it was a rom-com she really wanted to see. We planned to go together.” He explained taking a right turn.

“Then how do you know if she’s going to come if you planned to go together. I don’t know if you realised, but you are supposed to be dating me, and she’s dating no one. Girls don’t usually go to this kind of thing without a boyfriend or a potential one.”

“There’s this guy from Theatre and Film that she used to hook up with when I wasn’t around. I know from someone that they are coming together.”

Y/N let a pitiful smile involuntarily invade her features. It was kind of pathetic how he knew about her whereabouts and still didn’t say anything. She understood that they weren’t together, but they were heavily flirting and behaving like a couple, hence why she and a lot of other people thought they were actually in a relationship.

She let her teeth sink in the flesh of her bottom lip holding back from telling him a piece of her mind. He was old enough. He knew what he was doing. Or at least she hoped he did.

The rest of the way to the outdoor cinema was spent in silence. The only audible sounds being the radio and Jisung’s soft humming from time to time. When they reached, their destination Y/N got out of the car and let Jisung find a parking spot somewhere further away from the location of the cinema due to the parking there overflowing with vehicles.

Checking her phone, she noticed the time indicating 7:17 PM, and only then she realised how much time they spent in the car. Walking lazily on the pathway to where space was designated for blankets and chairs she saw a sea of people. Maybe not really a sea but there were enough people to fill two of the auditorium in their university.

For a second she thought she'd lay out the blanket, but then she remembered the only thing she had on her was her purse. On top of that, they needed to ‘accidentally’ bump into Mina and her date and hope they end up sitting next to each other.

Just as she was thinking about that a squeal deafened her and a pair of delicate arms wrapped around her. When the girl let go of her, and she met Mina’s face, she grimaced, but she regained her composure fast. She smiled at her and her date, a guy she had seen occasionally in some of her classes.

“What a coincidence you are here!” Mina’s fake excitement was pissing her off. Coincidence her ass. Y/N was sure she knew they were going to be there.

“Yeah, what a small world.” She gave the two a visibly fake smile and prayed for Jisung to hurry.

“Are you alone?” The girl asked, moving her head in different directions as if she was looking for the person she came with.

“No. I actually came with Jisung.” As if on cue Jisung appeared from behind the two, a blanket in hand.

“Are you looking for me, princess?” A jolt of surprise went through her at the new nickname he used, but she didn’t let it show.

Observing the angry expression on Mina’s face at his words, she figured that was how he used to call her before they broke up whatever they had going on. She surpassed a smirk from painting her lips.

“Mhhm.” She extended her hand, which he gladly held and went in for a short kiss. “Look who I found. Isn’t it lovely seeing your friends here?” She sarcastically said, smiling up at him.

“You guys should come sit with us!” Mina’s date said, and a victorious smile spread across her face.

“We’ll love to if that is okay with Mina, of course. We wouldn’t wanna disrupt you!” Y/N faked concern and gave Mina doe eyes.

Mina’s jaw slightly clenched before immediately relaxing and letting out a forced giggle.

“Of course you can. Why wouldn’t I be okay with that?”

After that, the four of them went and found a place at the back of the crowd where they could sit. It wasn’t exactly the back of the crowd since there were some more people behind them, but they were reasonably behind.

Jisung spread the blanket on the fluffy grass, and Mina’s date, whose name she found out was Jay, did the same as Jisung. Their blankets were almost touching, the distance between them millimetric.

There were still 20 minutes before the movie was supposed to start. They sat down on the blankets, and Y/N stretched her legs, finally relaxing for not having to stand on the platform shoes she was wearing.

“So, are you guys dating or…” Jay asked, fixing his body position so he could see them better.

Y/N rolled her eyes at his question. The guy wasn’t the best at reading the room.

“Of course we are. Why would we be here together if we weren’t?” Annoyance was dripping off her tongue. She only wanted to relax for a bit before having to spend two hours watching some boring rom-com.

“Oh…” His voice sounded almost disappointed as his gaze lingered a second too long on her exposed legs. “Mina and I are not a couple. And since she and Jisung have had a thing before, I thought...” He bit his bottom lip while looking at her thighs that were pretty much bare thanks to her dress riding up when she sat down. “Never mind!”

Y/N shifted uncomfortably and placed her hands on her thighs in an attempt to cover them even a little. Mina wasn’t aware of her date’s actions as her eyes were concentrated on Jisung and on the way he looked under the golden rays of the sun that was preparing to set.

Jisung, however, was burning holes with his eyes into the other man’s head. Upon seeing him biting his lip while looking at Y/N in a less than appropriate way, he felt an unexplainable feeling of rage penetrate his body. What he wanted to do at that moment was to get up and punch that pig into next week for daring to look at her like that. But he kept his composure and decided not to make a big deal out of it.

There was literally no reason for him to get that angry. Besides the apparent reason that it made her uncomfortable and he shouldn’t allow something like that, especially when he is playing her boyfriend. But the sudden feeling to rip his head off filled him with turmoil.

Jisung decided to ignore it for now, and he took his jacket off and placed it over her legs. Her head shot in his direction, confusion and at the same time relief present in her eyes.

“What is that?” She asked, trying to act unaffected by Jay’s actions.

“I just thought you might sit more comfortably with this over your legs. It stops unwanted attention.” He subtly glared at Jay, but he didn’t seem to pay him any mind as his eyes were now fixed on Mina’s chest.

“Thank you!” She said, bringing the jacket further up to cover her thighs better.

Jisung inched just a little bit closer to her and cupped her face. Placing his lips on hers, he forcefully pushed his tongue in her mouth, taking her by surprise. He made sure their heads were positioned in such a way that the two on the blanket next to them will be able to see the exchange of their mouths.

Mina was watching Jisung drag his tongue inside Y/N’s mouth, his eyes closed in satisfaction. The exchange wasn’t rushed, and the way his thumb would caress her cheek so gently had her bursting with jealousy. Jisung had never kissed her like that. Their kisses were always rushed and sloppy, driven by sexual needs.

When she first heard about their little relationship, she laughed. She thought it was some kind of stupid joke. But then she saw how they behaved. The kisses, the hugs, the hand holding, how he would always have a hand around her shoulders. In the three days, they dated he showed Y/N more love than he showed her in a year and a half.

Her initial plan was to tease him a little bit, then finally accept to be his girlfriend. She didn’t think he'd go and find himself a girlfriend. And especially not her. From all the people he could choose it had to be her. Looking at them now, Mina regretted her decision.

Jisung broke the kiss and looked into her fluttering eyes before placing a peck on her nose. Y/N was sitting there dizzy from everything that happened. His sudden boldness left her speechless and burning hot from the embarrassment of being seen doing something like that.

She wanted to question him. Ask him why he suddenly did something like that. However, a loud sound erupted from the speakers surrounding them, signaling the start of the movie. So she focused her vision on the big cloth in front of her and decided to ignore it.

She shivered discreetly as a wave of cold hit her body. The movie was only half done, and with the midnight approaching slowly, a chilly air adorned their surroundings. The weather forecast predicted high temperatures, but at that moment she was far away from her city, and so the weather was different.

Y/N rubbed one of her arms with her hand, regretting not taking a jacket with her just in case something like that was to happen. From the corner of his eye, Jisung noticed her actions, and he leaned in close to her to whisper in her ear.

“Hey, are you ok?” His hot breath on her ear made the hair at the back of her neck stand up.

“Yeah, I’m just a little bit cold. I’ll be fine!” She whispered back giving him reassuring eyes.

Jisung thought for a second of what he could do. He didn’t have another jacket, and he didn’t want her to uncover her legs. At least not when Jay was around. An idea finally struck him, and he softly called her name, catching her attention again.

When she turned to look at him, he tapped the space between his spread legs. Y/N raised an eyebrow at his gesture.

“What does that mean?” She sounded a little bit annoyed.

“Come sit here. I’ll cuddle you so you won’t be cold anymore.” Y/N threw him a weirded out look. “We are ‘dating’. No one will find it weird. Or you could just stay there and freeze to death.” The man explained his voice a little bit louder than before.

She pondered his offer for a bit before getting up and making her way between his legs. She let herself fall backwards until her back hit his chest softly. Jisung put his arms around her, and warmth started enveloping her almost instantly. Y/N let out a purr at the newfound comfort, and her eyes shot open at the realisation of what she just did.

“Hey, don’t get too comfortable, you hear me? I’m doing this just because Mina might be watching.” She warned, her voice stern hoping he missed her last action.

Jisung rolled his eyes but decided not to bring up the sound she just let out. For now, he just wanted to enjoy the newfound proximity. Only so they can make Mina jealous. Right?

They sat like that, none of them daring to move. For some reason, Jisung found the position really comfortable. A few days prior at the start of their relationship he found skinship really awkward but now it wasn’t like that anymore. It felt almost natural. Like they have been doing it for a long time.

Some more time passed, but Jisung wasn’t sure how much. The movie was approaching its climax, and the man felt bored out of his mind. Was it really worth going through that only to get his dick wet? But then he remembered who he was doing it for. He was doing it so he and Mina, the girl who he has been in love with for the longest time, could finally be together. And when it happens, he will be able to slide his hand through her silky hair, and feel her smooth skin and kiss her soft lips without having to call it a friendly gesture.

His trail of thoughts was interrupted by a quiet mumbling coming from Y/N. Her voice was so small that Jisung couldn’t hear her.

“What?” He leaned his head down in order to hear her when she talks.

For a minute, there was silence. Thinking that she didn’t hear him, Jisung wanted to repeat the question when a puff of air left her mouth. Right after, she turned slightly to the side, pushing her head more against his chest, and that is when he realised that she fell asleep.

An involuntary smile tugged at his lips, and his heart started beating faster. He couldn’t explain why he was so happy about it. It was going to be a pain in the ass. Having to wake her up and wait for her to recover from her dazed form. They were going to be the last ones to leave after the movie was over.

A whistle-like noise left Y/N’s nose when she expired the cold air of the night, and his smile turned into a grin. Jisung moved a few strands of hair from her face before wrapping his hands better around her to keep her warm. He placed a kiss on top of her head and rested his chin on her head, swaying slightly while continuing to watch the movie.

If you were to ask Mina what has happened so far in the movie, she couldn’t give you an answer. As much as she wanted to see the film, the girl’s eyes seemed to be more interested in whatever was happening on the blanket on her left.

She watched as they were cuddling and whispering to each other things she couldn’t hear. Then Y/N fell asleep, and Jisung seemed to be even more loving, hugging her even tighter and kissing her. She was wondering if he has ever done that to her on the many nights they shared a bed.

Mina never thought she would be that affected by the fact that Jisung has found himself a girlfriend. After all, he was just one of the many boys she was hooking up with. She never thought she would have feelings for him, but here she was, being jealous of the last person she ever thought she would.

She had to somehow get the boy back. She wanted to see it as a challenge, but she couldn’t. It had barely been two weeks since they ‘broke up’ and scarcely four days since he started dating that perfect little missy. Love doesn’t fade away that fast. She’ll have him back in no time.

Y/N felt someone shaking her arm gently, and she mumbled some incoherent words, pushing the hand away. She was sleeping so well, she didn’t want to wake up. A hand pushed a hair strand that was ticking her nose out of the way before grabbing her shoulder and shaking it again. She groaned in annoyance.

“Wake up, Y/N! You have to go home. Unless you want me to take you to my place.” Someone whispered close to her face, and her eyes fluttered open, trying to make up her surroundings.

The first thing she saw when she finally managed to blink the sleep away was Jisung’s smirking face. God, he was so annoying. Ignoring him and looking around, she noticed she was in his parked car in front of her apartment complex. She vaguely remembered falling asleep, but she doesn’t remember waking up to get to the car.

“How did I get here? Did you wake me up?” Y/N asked, straightening her body and inhaling the cold air of the night.

Jisung held her hand and helped her out of the car before slamming the door closed. He let her lean against the front door and opened the back door to fish her purse from the back seat.

“I didn’t. You were way too cute when you shut up. Like a little obedient kitty. I had to enjoy the moment a little bit longer.” He teased, putting a hand around her waist and making their way to the entrance in the complex.

Y/N scoffed at his childish remark but decided to ignore it. She didn’t have the necessary energy to argue with him.

“So you carried me to the car? What about the blanket and the other stuff you had there? Did you go back for them?”

“No, I had Jay get them for me, so I don’t wake you up.”

Stopping in front of the elevator, Jisung pushed the button, and they waited a few seconds for the doors to open. Stepping inside, Y/N pushed the button for the third floor before leaning back against Jisung.

“Talking about Jay. Thank you for today!” The man threw her a questioning look, acting as nonchalant as he could.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t act dumb! I know you didn’t give me your jacket just because you are nice like that. You saw how he looked at me.” She wanted to sound more aggressive, but her voice came out soft and calm since she was still sleepy.

Jisung found that adorable but surpassed a smile. Adopting a disinterested expression, he spoke.

“He did? I didn’t notice. I just thought that, as your boyfriend, I shouldn’t let everyone see your underwear.” Y/N punched him in the stomach lightly, and Jisung dramatically bent down, letting out a fake grunt.

“You are such an asshole!”

A loud ding echoed in the restricted space, and the doors opened, revealing the dirty wall of the third floor. They stepped out of the elevator and slowly walked down the hallway to where Y/N’s apartment door was. Taking her purse from Jisung’s hand and finding her keys, she unlocked the door and opened it.

She leaned against the door frame and looked up at Jisung, giving him a bright smile.

“I'd like to say that I had fun, but I fell asleep halfway through the date.” She giggled, trying to mask her embarrassment. “But it was nice getting out of the house. Thank you for today!”

The man put his hands in his jean’s pockets and scoffed.

“You are lucky Mina got upset by you sleeping on me. Otherwise, I would have gotten angry. My shoulders are so stiff from having to support your weight. I might not recover for a few days.” A fake pained groan left his throat, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

Lifting herself on her tiptoes, she placed one hand on his shoulder and brought his head lower. She connected her lips with his in a short kiss. Breaking the kiss, she stepped inside her apartment and kept the door open enough for her head to be visible.

“See you on Monday!” With that, she closed the door all the way and made her way into her bedroom.

She wasn’t sure what was the time, but it must have been well past 11 PM. Taking off the dress, she discarded it on the floor before grabbing the oversized t-shirt from the back of the desk chair. She put it on and threw herself on the bed, letting the sheets envelop her body before falling asleep.

Y/N’s eyes shot open, and her mouth fell open as the realisation of what she did only moments prior sank in. Putting the back of her hand over her forehead and exhaling deeply, her eyes closed and her brows furrowed. Why did she kiss him? She’ll never interact with anyone while she’s still drunk on sleep.

Meanwhile, Jisung that just exited the complex couldn’t contain his smile. He couldn’t understand why that was happening. They kissed before to make Mina jealous. But maybe that was precisely the reasons such an insignificant gesture brought him so much joy. Mina was nowhere near. A spark erupted in his stomach at the thought that the girl might have a crush on him.

“Do it again! With more love this time. Come on. You want me! You desire me!” Y/N ordered to Jeongin.

The man let out a frustrated groan, using the script to cover his eyes from the brightness of the sun.

Both of them, Hyunjin and Jisung, were outside, in front of the university. They had a free period and decided to practice the script for the short movie they were playing in. Hyunjin, although not part of the film itself, was always with them thanks to Mrs. Bae’s affinity towards him.

Jisung, however, was new in the picture. Ever since they went on that date a week and a half ago, he seemed to be spending more time with her. She felt mildly suffocated by that but decided not to question it. As long as he wasn’t distracting her from her usual activities, she didn’t mind him tagging along.

“You don’t make desiring you really easy. We’ve done it four times already. We will start filming in three months. I don't have to be perfect right now!” Jeongin exclaimed letting his body fall on the bench on which Jisung and Hyunjin were seated.

“Hey! Be careful of what you say. My girlfriend is very, much desirable!” Jisung said in a jokingly offended tone earning disgusted groans from the other two men.

“Really dude? I could have lived my life without knowing that information.” Jeongin started fanning himself with the script. It was a sweltering day.

“I don’t understand why you are here. You are only four-wheeling us.” Hyunjin remarked, earning himself a dirty look from Jisung.

“A car needs all four wheels to be functional.”

“Yeah, babe, but we are a tricycle.”

Hyunjin, Jeongin and Y/N erupted into laughter at Jisung’s dumbfounded expression. From behind Y/N, they heard even louder laughter and Hyunjin scoffed at the scene unfolding under his eyes.

“I swear to God! Mina has been so annoying lately. Much more than when she used to hang out with Jisung. It’s as if she’s following us around.” The man rolled his eyes as he remembered how many times Mina ‘coincidentally’ happened to be in the same place as them the past week.

“Tell me about it. And how she is always with Jay from our major. If I wanted to watch live porn, I would have signed up on one of those porn sites.” Jeongin seemed as annoyed as the other man.

“Don’t stress about that guys. I’m pretty sure these are just coincidences.” Y/N tried telling them, even though she knew everything they said was right.

“No, I’m pretty sure they are not. There’s someone between us whose attention she’s trying to catch.” Hyunjin gave Jisung a side look.

“You can’t be sure of that.” She played dumb, wanting more than anything to change the subject.

“ Oh, please! She’s always watching him. In the cafeteria, when we are hanging around on our free periods, when she’s kissing that loser. It’s like he’s a good movie she can’t tear her eyes from.” Jeongin snapped, tired of the whole situation.

“Then let’s give them something to look at!” Jisung smirked smugly.

“What do..”

In the next second, Y/N has been pulled on Jisungs lap, and he captured her lips in an urgent kiss. One hand was on the nape of her head forcefully holding her in the kiss, and the other one was on her ass cheek, squeezing it.

She heard someone awkwardly clearing their throat from her right, and all her senses heightened. Y/N placed her hands on Jisung’s shoulders and tried lightly pushing him away while uncomfortably shifting in his lap. As a response, the man groaned lowly and slid his hand from her neck to her chest, cupping it.

Her eyes widened in shock at his action and mustering all the force she had in her, she pushed him away, finally breaking the kiss. A loud bang ringed around them as her hand made contact with his cheek. Jumping off his lap, she gathered her bag from the leg of the bench.

“You are a fucking asshole!” She shouted in his face before storming off inside the university.

The stomping of her boots was echoing in the empty halls, and the few students that were around decided to make her space to pass. Her thinking was clogged at the moment, and all she could feel was rage and shame. She was angrily making her way down the halls, but her destination was uncertain. She just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

Y/N heard quick steps from behind her, and a hand pulled at her shoulder. Without turning around, she shrugged it off and started walking faster. The person behind her also increased their walking speed, but this time around, they grabbed her wrist.

Just as she was preparing to scream in their face, she was pulled into a hug, her face forced into a firm chest. Y/N felt herself calm down as the smell of a cologne she grew accustomed to in the last week invaded her lungs. His hand was gently rubbing her back, and she relaxed under her touch.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin whispered softly in her ear.

She hid her face more in his chest, feeling shame overcome her.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I swear it’s not what you think! We’ve never…” Her voice was shaky, as if she was about to cry. Hyunjin cupped her face forcing her to look in his eyes. She could see concern and sadness hiding behind his brown orbs.

“Why are you apologising to me? You are the one who’s been wronged here. I just wanna make sure you are okay.” His soft voice was acting as a calmative for her racing heartbeat.

Y/N felt her insides flip at his caring words. His hands on her cheeks were hot, and she decided to blame them for the blush that acaparated her face.

“Hey! Step away from my girlfriend, you motherfucker!” Jisung’s voice filled her ears, and she saw Hyunjin roll his eyes.

The warmth of his body left her, and he crossed his arms as Jisung finally arrived in front of them. Hyunjin was looking down at the other man, and both their expressions were filled with anger.

“I was just making sure she’s fine. It looks like you took your time deciding to do the same.” The taller man spat venom dripping off his tongue.

“It’s none of your business how I handle my relationship!” Jisung adopted a louder tone bringing his face closer to Hyunjin’s.

“But it is when you decide to act like a bitch in heat and make your girlfriend uncomfortable. This is why Mina never dated you and why you and Y/N won’t last long!”

Jisung clenched his jaw upon hearing the other man’s words, and before anyone could register what was happening, he plunged his fist into Hyunjin’s face.

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kouomi · 4 years ago

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Home

Summary: Atsumu looks back on your relationship and finds himself longing for the person he called home (Miya Atsumu x f!reader)

Warnings: lil bit of fluff, heavy angst, mentions of death, fighting

Word count: 2,708

A/N: italicized parts are in the past! lil heads up this is not edited!! Someone please hug Tsumu cause I made myself sad writing this

My Masterlist

Posted: March 14th 2021, 8:30 AM EST

“‘Tsumu!” You gasp as your flung onto the couch, a chorus of laughter following your cry. The two of you tumbled around for a few moments before Atsumu pins your hands to your side, a leg on either side of your hips as he grins at his victory.

“Don’t you dare.” You warn, knowing all too well what the mischievous glint in his eye meant. Your warning is too late, however, as his hands move to attack your sides sending you into a flurry of laughter. Tears pricked at your eyes as he mercilessly continued to tickle you, his own laughs of amusement being heard over yours.

“What was that? I don’t think I heard ya.”

“You win! Stop!”

Seemingly satisfied with your call of forfeit Atsumu draws his hands away from your sides, only to fall on top of you making a squeal pass your lips. His arms loop around your waist as you tried to shove

Atsumus eyes nervously scanned the large crowd as he stepped out on to the court, the loud cheers and blaring band falling upon deaf ears as all he could hear was his thoughts whizzed by faster than he could focus on one. It was his first game of high school and while he was able to hide it well, below the surface of his facade he was swelling with nerves and worries. What if he messed up his serve? What if he did something to lose the game for the third years? What if something he did this game made the entire team turn on him like they did in middle school?

Before he could fully process what was happening the referee passed him the ball, hundreds of eyes following its course into his hands. Taking a deep breath, Atsumu spun the ball in his hands.

Don’t mess up.

How many steps do I take?

Is this too far?

What if I throw it up wrong?

Don’t. Mess. Up.

“Go Atsumu!”

The sudden call of his name pulls him out of his thoughts, his attention being drawn back towards the crowd. After a few moments of searching his eyes meet yours, a sense of calm washing over him as you smile back at him. She came, he thought to himself, his own smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. With you there, surely everything would be

“Y/n, can ya please let me in?”

“Go away!”

Atsumu sighs as he leans his head on the bathroom door, his hand once again trying the handle though the lock prevents it from turning.

It was a stupid fight, one that’d been building up over time that suddenly boiled over causing you both to explode at each other. Both of you had said things you didn’t mean, harsh words being thrown at each other since you arrived home. Your throats had gone raw from trying to speak over each other but you both refused to back down, tunnel vision preventing you from hearing one another out as you pressed to prove you were right.

Looking on what you’d said now having been sitting outside the bathroom for about an hour he understood why you’d been upset and, while he didn’t quite want to admit it, you were in the right.

While he knew this now, it didn’t help what had gotten him in this situation in the first place. At the peak of your screaming match he found himself blinded by anger and words he’d never thought he’d ever say to you passed his lips, rolling off his tongue before he realized what he was saying.

“All I’m saying is I want to spend some more time with you! Is that really too much to ask?” You asked, exasperated.

“Ya knew when we started dating how busy I am!” Atsumu exclaimed, “Why are ya suddenly so mad about it?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because you spend more time with your fan girls than with your actual girlfriend!”

“Really? Yer pulling that? It’s not my fault yer so needy Y/n, I’m not gonna drop my practices just to make ya happy all the time!”

“If you think I’m needy why don’t you go date one of the girls who keep throwing themselves at you?”

“Maybe I should! They’d probably be less annoying than ya!”

“‘Tsumu, wait-“

“What? Finally realizing how easily I could replace ya? Yer the one who suggested it, remember?” He scoffs, ignoring how you’d shrunken, “Ya should be thankful for the time ya get with me, cause if not there’s other girls who could take yer place. I don’t need ya.”

As soon as he said it he froze, almost not believing that those words had actually come out of his mouth. The look on your face unfortunately proved it to be true, however, as he could see the way it seemed as if all of the fight and anger had been drained out of you leaving you with a hollow expression. You but your lip as you shook your head and shoved your way past him, ignoring all attempts he made at stopping you as you slammed the bathroom door in his face.

“Baby, I’m sorry okay? Can ya unlock the door so we can talk?”

“Leave me alone, Atsumu.”

He felt a pull at his heart at the slight crack in your voice followed by quiet sniffling, guilt threatening to swallow him whole as he realized you were crying because of him.

Unable to put up with you locking yourself away any longer, Atsumu grabbed a bobby-pin from your room and got to work unlocking the door with it, successfully doing so after a few minutes. Almost as soon as the door swung open he’s kneeling on the ground beside where you were curled into a ball, frantically scanning his mind for something to do.

“Y/n...” He says, reaching a hand out to brush your hair away from your face.

He cringes when you flinch, temporarily drawing back before reaching out again this time wrapping his arms around your shuttering frame. Though you temporarily resisted, ultimately you found yourself melting into his embrace as you adjusted to wrap your arms around his torso. Atsumu pulls you into his lap, one of his hands cradling the back of your head as you cried into his shirt while the other ran up and down your back. The two of you sat there until your tears slowed to a stop, Atsumu not daring to move a muscle in fear of scaring you off.

“You really are an asshole, Atsumu.” You mumble, your grip on the fabric of his tshirt tightening.

“I know.” He sighs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean any of that. Yer the best girlfriend I could ever ask for, no one else even begins to compare. And yer right, I’m not spending enough time with ya but I’ll try to, okay? I love ya so much.”

“I

The two of you lay on the couch in your living room, the only sound being that of the TV you’d turned on for background noise when your boyfriend had appeared at your front door. You’d anticipated his arrival, having watched the game against Karasuno on your phone the day before and such expected the defeated and angry atmosphere that surrounded him.

Atsumu lay on top of you with his arms wrapped firmly around your waist, holding himself in place against you. One of your hands rested on the back of his head that rested on your chest as the other ran up and down his back, paying attention to rub in the patterns you knew he liked. He hadn’t said a word since he arrived other than a short “missed ya”, having passed all welcomes in favor of clinging to you, his body melting into yours. After the loss at nationals he had wanted nothing more than to curl up in your arms, the long trip home seeming to go slower as he counted down the seconds until he could finally be here.

“You did really good.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he tensed slightly. “I’m proud of you.”

“It wasn’t good enough.” Atsumu says, voice weak compared to its usual light hearted tone. “I lost the game for everyone.”

“You weren’t the only one playing, ‘Tsum. It isn’t all one person’s fault. But you are one of the reasons you guys were even able to get that far, yeah? Don’t beat yourself up over one play.”

It’s quiet for a moment as he processes your words, as if trying to decide if he’ll believe you or not. He moves his head upwards so he can nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, the feeling of a tear falling onto your skin pulling at your heart as you give him a small squeeze.

“It’s just- it was-“ He stutters, his words shaky and ultimately cut off by a sharp intake of breath as he tries to hold back his tears.

“I know.” You murmur, “But you’re still the best setter there is, y’know? And the best boyfriend, best teammate, best looking; you’re so much more than that one game.”

“...Best looking twin?” He asks quietly.

You laugh, “Yes.”

The sound fills his ears, providing him with a sense of comfort no words or actions had been able to. You always knew the right things to say, to do, to comfort him and make him feel better when he was at his lowest and felt ready to give up. Something about you warded off all of the negatives and filled the air around you with warmth. Something about you felt like home. Something about you made him sure that one day, he was going to m

that’s how things between the two of you went, always being cut off too soon. All of his memories with you, each I love you, each kiss, each quiet afternoon spent cuddling on the couch watching movies, everything was ended before it was supposed to. Even your relationship went that way, being cut off, suddenly forced to a stop before it could even really begin. Each memory was halted right in the middle, part of each story missing making them feel impartial and almost fake with holes in their plots and the endings missing. Everything was so vivid, yet so vividly fading at the same time it terrified him that he was losing what little left he had of you. Details faded away so all he was left was glimpses of a memory that didn’t even feel like his anymore; left looking through a foggy window on to a life he wished he still had.

Every day without you felt bland. No longer did he have your soft voice scratchy with sleep whispering in his ear in the mornings; your fingers lacing with his as you wandered around the shops; your body searching for his warmth during the night. The apartment that had once belonged to the both of you was now void of your glowing presence, the air stiff and too quiet without you. His happy, care-free smile had faded from his face and become less frequent as he found himself wondering what he was supposed to do without the one person he could call home.

“I got invited to play for the Olympics next year.” Atsumu says, not quite as enthusiastic as it should be, “Ya always said I’d get there one day.”

No response comes.

“It really sucks without ya here, Y/n.” He continues, feeling his throat start to constrict, “I miss ya. A lot.

It’s already been a year, can ya believe that? I don’t want to believe it. A whole year with ya gone. It’s just... not right.

Sometimes I forget for a few minutes, and I think yer gonna be there when I open the door just like ya always were. It scares me, cause I can’t remember everything, even yer voice is a little gone without the videos. I could never forget yer smile though, even with all the pictures. I think that’s my favorite thing about ya.

I really took everything for granted. I wish I could go back and just hold ya, one more time. One more kiss. One more time hearing ya say I love you. Just something to hold onto. It’s not right, nothings right without ya here. Ya were the reason I was always so happy, ya made everything seem so much brighter, but now it’s just... bland. It’s like I can’t be happy without ya, I don’t wanna be happy without ya.” He stops to wipe his face of the tears that’d begun to fall, though new ones quickly slip into the tracks of the old.

“I wish you’d just come back. Sometimes I get mad at ya, for leaving me here alone, but ya know I can’t stay made atcha for long. It just hurts, knowing yer not coming back... Yer not coming back.”

He hits his lip, the air in his lungs feeling to heavy as if it’s trying to suffocate him from the inside. Everything falls on him at once, like a thick sheet of snow covering everything in sight and leaving him cold and numb yet burning and screaming at the same time. You’re gone. His Y/n, his beautiful wonderful, amazing Y/n, was gone. Everything hurt, every breath, every small movement of his body as it shook with sobs, every nerve; everything hurt as he longed for something that was so painfully taken away.

“Please Y/n/n... I don’t know what to do without ya.” He cries, eyes squeezing shut, “I miss ya, just please... come back to me.”

Still no response. The only sound being Atsumus cries muffled by the snow he sat buried in.

Atsumu barely notices the hand placed on his shoulder, only acknowledging the other person when they call his name.

“Hey.” Osamu starts, glancing down at his brother with eyes heavy with concern before flickering back up. “Do ya wanna minute?”

He doesn’t respond, another cry being answer enough as he feels his body collapsing in on itself. Risking his legs giving out beneath him, Atsumu stands and throws his arms around his twin, desperately clinging to him as if trying to find an anchor to the world. Osamu didn’t say anything as he held the blonde, feeling his own tears prick at the corners of his eyes at seeing his brother so torn and distraught.

He’d known this was going to happen today, that no amount of words would even begin to fill the void within him and every attempt at comfort would fall upon deaf ears so he didn’t try. Instead, he sat there. For a time unbeknownst to the pair they sat on a bench Osamu was able to coax Atsumu towards, no words daring break the silent agreement they’d made to not speak. They sat there until Atsumus heavy sobs eventually eased to a dull crying and he pulled away, eyes meeting his brothers for a moment as if to thank him before he let his head fall back on to the bench to face the sky.

“Come on.” Osamu said quietly, standing and waiting for the other to follow. He does after a moments pause, eyes lingering on the grave he’d sat beside and tracing over your name before he lets out a heavy, shaky sigh and started walking away, ignoring his mind that screamed at him to stay.

“Let’s get ya home.”

Atsumu obliged but he knew that part of him lay within you, that where ever you went, no matter how far was where his home was; that, without you, away from you, he’d never truly be home again. So he left, leaving with you the pieces of himself he’d given away and the memories that failed to fully reanimate with hopes that maybe, if he couldn’t be with you now at least you could find your way back to him, waiting for you to fall into his arms and bring him wherever you had settled; the place he so desperately longed for: home.

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sweetwritertanya · 5 years ago

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Nothing To Be Jealous About (Jungkook)

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m here to announce a new BTS series that I am starting! I had this idea to make a ‘jealous series’ with the boys a long time ago and it felt right to do it now. I had this idea for Jungkook’s story and I just had to write it. I don’t know if the others will get a fic as long as this one, but we’ll see! Hope you all enjoy it!

Edit: This is also my first ever moodboard or however you call it for one of my fics! Because I always have a outfit in mind for both the reader and the member, I thought it made sense to add a moodboard. I don’t think I’ll do it for all of my fics, but I’ll try with this series. Tell me what you think! Should I keep doing it? Does it help as you read? Also, big thanks to @tipsydipsydo for her guidance when I asked about her own moodboards! She’s a cutiepie!

Summary: For the first time since you started working out, you go to the gym with Jungkook. Afraid for how he would feel seeing someone your size exercising, his reaction turns out to be what you least expected from him.

Warnings: SMUT!!! Do be prepared for: swearing, erotic body touching, marking, oral (female receiving), protected sex (trying to make it a more common thing in this blog), rough sex, sex on the floor, missionary position, a bit of a possessive Jungkook, but he gets softer and sweeter by the end.

Word Count: 3280

You knew it would be a bad idea to go with Jungkook to the gym, which was why you always came up with excuses to avoid it. For months and months, you had been going alone to the gym, purposely on a different schedule from your boyfriend. However, turns out that the reasons you shouldn’t have gone to the gym with Jungkook were a lot different than what you had assume.

Naturally, in your head, the main reason for preferring to go alone was because you didn’t want him to see you exercising. Being a big girl that only recently started to work out for health benefits, to say you would be embarrassed of him witnessing your routine would be an understatement. There would be sweat, there would be tears, there would be a flushed bare face and dirty hair that you had no intentions of him ever seeing.

But, as you found out, life had an ironic sense of humor. Unable to find a reason to deny Jungkook’s invitation this time, you were currently doing push-ups as your trainer guided you, loudly counting as you went, numbers getting further and further apart from how slow you were going due to how tired you were.

You had asked him to start your training on the opposite side of the room from where Jungkook was, hoping that would somehow make him forget you were even there and not see your humiliating state. As you got up and the huge muscular man in front of you asked you to get ready to start the much-hated burpees, you cast a glance towards the younger man, perplexed when you saw his state.

Jungkook was not working out at all. He was sitting at the seated arm curl, two heavy dumbbells on the ground next to his feet. That on itself was confusing, since he took his training at the gym very seriously and would only stop to catch his breath. Yet, it looked as if he hadn’t even started exercising. The most shocking part was the way he was staring at you. No, actually, he was rather glaring at your personal trainer.

Bushy sharp eyebrows furrowed deeply, lines scrunching his button nose, pouting lips pulled down and usually sweet doe eyes turned dark and angry, round shape lost as he squinted heatedly at the man in front of you. Your trainer tapped your arm to catch your attention again, asking if you were ready to continue. You look back at Jungkook only to realize he had completely looked away, picked up the dumbbells and started lifting them, a bit too speedily if you had to say.

Still unsure of what was going on, you actually told him that you were done for the day. Taking a few sips of water and cleaning your sweaty face with a towel, you hesitantly walk towards Jungkook, who was now seemingly focused on what he was doing, not sparing a look your way when you approached him.

“Hey, Kook, I’m done for the day” you inform him, stopping a few feet from his right.

“Yeah? You sure your trainer doesn’t mind?” he dryly asks, not stopping his movements or regarding you at all, confusing you further.

“I… I stopped earlier than usual, actually… James probably would have wanted me to go on for a while longer.” You tried to ignore that pang in your heart that told you Jungkook was judging you, that he was offended you only worked out this much. That he expected more from you.

“James? You’re even on a first name basis…” he puffs in frustration.

Jungkook places the dumbbells he was using down and turns his head the other way from you, elbows rested on top of his knees, hands clutching together and foot tapping persistently on the ground. You realize it then. It creeps up on you, the realization that left your mouth hanging open in incredulity.

“Wait… Are you… Are you jealous, Kook?” The skepticism was evident in your voice.

The boy stands up suddenly, looking at you as if you’re crazy, but his body language spoke volumes. He crossed his arms, eyebrows still pulled together, cheeks puffed and lips in a pout, weight shifting from foot to foot. A hurt look behind his avoiding eyes.

“Oh my God, you are!” And you actually chuckle at that, not only from how ridiculous that sounded to you, but from the pure relief washing over you at that notion. You were not the one bothering him, your personal trainer was. Not that he would confess it any time soon.

“No, I’m not! I am, however, done for today. Let’s go.”

He basically stomps away, making a bee-line for the male dressing rooms while you made way into the woman’s one. You would be lying if it didn’t feel flattering knowing such a good-looking man like Jungkook could grow jealous because of you. There was a stupid grin on your face that you just couldn’t wipe off.

You stayed silent the ride home, trying to hide your smile from Jungkook’s view so as to not distract him while he was driving. But you couldn’t help the glances you threw his way, curious as to what brought this jealousy up. As far as you know, your personal trainer remained very professional with you, there was no flirting going on at all.

Once home, Jungkook crashed down on the sofa in the living room, ready to spend the rest of the day playing video games and ignoring you. But of course, you wouldn’t let the misunderstanding go on any longer.

“Jungkook, why the hell are you like this? There is nothing to be jealous about!” you reassure coming to stand in front of him, between the sofa and the screen of the television. He opens his mouth in upcoming defiance, obviously about to deny it yet again, but you don’t let him. “And don’t tell me you are not. I know you, Kook. Now, let’s talk about it. Or do you wanna be mad forever?”

It’s your turn to cross your arms over your chest and lean you head to the side as you lift one of your eyebrows, awaiting his response. The boy looks down, thinking about your words, before sighing and leaning back on the couch, hands fidgeting on his lap and looking away to the side.

“You’re the one keeping things from me” he accuses, albeit in a small voice.

“What? I’m not” you defend yourself, baffled.

“Now I know why you always avoided going with me to the gym. You didn’t want me to see you with your personal trainer. Oh, sorry, is ‘James’, isn’t it?” Still not looking at you, the sulking boy almost spits the name, vexed.

Finally understanding, even if his conclusion was a bit of a stretch, you feel for him. You kneel down on the carpet in front of him, catching his hands on yours and making him look at you. Once he does, still suspicious, you just smile warmly up at him.

“Kook, I was embarrassed of you seeing me in the gym. It had nothing to do with that guy” you explain patiently. “Honestly, did you notice how I look when I go to the gym? No one will be interested in this!” You point at yourself, fat, in comfortable but unflattering workout clothes and with no make-up on.

“Stop it. I saw the way he looked at you. I saw him taking advantage and touching you” he accused, plump bottom lip puckering further.

“Touch? Were you seeing things? He never touched me” you countered, shaking your head.

That’s when Jungkook launches forward, grabbing you by the shoulders and making you yelp in surprise as you lean back and somehow end up lying flat on the carpet. Before you can even process what was going on, he latches his mouth to the side of your neck and sucks on the skin harshly, for sure leaving a bruise. You hiss at the pain, but can’t deny the fact that it sent jolts straight to your core, your skin hyper sensitive to his abusing lips.

“Right here while you were doing crunches” he barks, voice still small but irradiating bitterness.

“Wha…?” Your brain still jumbled, you just vaguely stare up at him as you try to remember anything of the sort. You recalled your trainer having to help you going up on the last few crunches, one hand leveraging at the base of your neck.

Before you could ask him if that was what he was referring to, Jungkook leans back down and does the same treatment to your left arm, actually biting down with his teeth just enough to leave the small indentation of his teeth on the first layer of your skin.

“And right here, obviously trying to get your attention.” The memory of that seems to leave him even more infuriated, deep frustrating line scrunching the bridge of his nose and jawline tensing up tremendously. His big round eyes settle on yours with intensity and you lose your voice for a moment. “But you’re mine, right? You are my girl, my girlfriend, no one else’s, right?”

You nod your head, still in absolute disbelief that this gorgeous human being hoovering above you had any doubts about that. Your hands sooth the skin of his strong arms that were holding him up, words finally coming to you again.

“Of course, Kook. I’m all yours, always will be” you promise, trying to convey your honesty through your eyes.

“I’ll prove it to them. Leave my marks all over your body so they can see it.”

The rasp on his usual sweet voice had you swallowing dry and heat pools at your center. Damn, he was so hot like this. And then he actually takes actions to his words and pulls your t-shirt up, revealing your stomach that he launches for and nips and sucks on the flesh, deep bites and squeezes of his hands that you no doubt would see the next day. You jeer, but the pain mixes with pleasure and the noises that come out start sounding more like moans than anything.

And then he moves further down, avid hands grabbing at the fabric of your sweatpants and pulling them down your thick thighs, leaving them bare for him. Nuzzling comfortably between your legs, he takes no time pull at the meat of your fluffy inner thighs, sucking from just above your knee to the junction of where your leg meets your pelvis. Your whole body feels like it’s overheating and your heart hammers in your chest, each hickey closer to your womanhood leaving more and more wet. But then he focuses on your other leg, lifting your knee and leaving another trail up that thigh, completely ignoring how needy you were.

“K-Kook!” you plea, your hands grasping at the ones clawing your hips, begging them silently. “Please.”

Your hips are stuttering, moving out of their own accord in search of any kind of relief for the hellish crave staining your panties. Never one to deny you of anything your asked, Jungkook holds down your hips with sprawled hands putting pressure on your lower belly as he mouthed your pussy over the cotton fabric. You scream because it’s relieving and not enough at all. Even through the cloth, Jungkook finds your engorged clit and doesn’t hesitate to suck on it too, making you wail and arch your back off the ground, head falling back and eyes closing at the maddening feeling.

The bastard stays like that for a while, driving your absolute mad, giving you just enough to drive you to the edge and still not nearly enough to send your over. Your panties are absolutely drenched in a mix of your juices and his saliva, and you try to close your legs around his head in hopes to keep him there long enough for you to reach any kind of satisfaction, but being the strong man that he was, Jungkook easily parts your legs away and crawls back up your body, sculptural face hoovering mere inches from yours.

You open your eyes to see his full black ones, veiled with unmasked desire and lust, puffy cheeks red and lips swollen from all of their work on you. Fuck, he looked so heavenly like this.

“Now they’ll know, if they dare come this near to you. That you are already taken. That you are mine to hold and kiss and fuck. Right?”

You are not sure how he manages, but he sounds both possessive and insecure at the same time, obviously determined to let anyone know you were his but still uncertain enough to always ask for your confirmation. Smiling, you take his face in your hands and pull him in for a much awaited kiss after your response.

“Absolutely right.”

You are the one who pulled him in, but he is the one desperate, frantic in the kiss, claiming your lips violently and deepening it so his tongue scans every small inch of your mouth, as if making sure it was just as he remembered. Locking your hands behind his neck, you respond in what you hope is a similar way, passing on all the love and comfort you could in this one long toe-curling kiss.

Amongst everything, you could not be sure when he did it, but as you latched your bulky legs around his lean waist and pulled him in, you find that he was already undressed from the waist down. His thick, throbbing member was pressed against the stained panties still left as a barrier.

Resting in one arm, holding him up, Jungkook’s free hand roams down your curvaceous body and fingers hook around the side of your underwear, at the same time he whispers a question in your ear with a hoarse voice.

“Pill?”

“All good” you eagerly reply, letting him know you had been careful and it should be okay.

Panties bunched up around your left ankle, Jungkook rubs his cock between your folds in a few strokes, working you both up and coating himself. But you were already so worked up and sexually frustrated that you clawed at his magnificent muscular ass and pulled him closer, at the same time your hips thrusted upwards into him. Failing to get him where you wanted, you growl.

“Now, Jungkook! I need you now!” you exclaim.

“Yeah, I want to hear you scream my name, baby. My name only” he encourages in a pleased tone.

Suddenly, two hands grab your legs from the back of your knee and hoists them up until you are basically bent in half, thighs pressed against your breasts. One swift movement of his hips and Jungkook impales you with his dick, the first thrust strong and deep and succulent. You moan loudly from relief, your clenching walls finally clinging on to something, finally stretched in the most pleasant of ways. Even with the white noise settling in and your own whine still ringing in the air, you still hear the tale-end of Jungkook’s own groan, hands still holding your legs up and kneeling with his pelvis pressed against yours, back standing stiff and eyes closed, lips slightly parted. He was obviously needing this as much as you.

Doe eyes slit open to meet with yours and he bents down over you, reaching for your lips and kissing you at the same time he starts moving. You hold on to his shoulders, but the pace grows quicker and quicker until it’s borderline punishing and you scream out at how good it feels, the way his cock drags at that fast pace against your inner walls, the tip kissing the end of that carnal tunnel and hitting that deep spot that makes you see stars behind your eyes. You let go of his lips in favor of screaming his name next to his ear and he continues the inhumane pace.

“That’s it. Scream my name. Scream it” he cheers on, his own voice stuttering at the focus to keep himself in check. “Scream it loud as you cum around me, love.”

The pressure deep in your womb was building rapidly with each rapid ramming. Jungkook was sweating and flushed red from head to toe, breathing heavily and closing his eyes in search of self-control. He rests your legs on his shoulder as he uses his hands to ground himself and procced to pound his cock even deeper and quicker, that being all you needed due to the added stimulation of his navel against your clit with each motion, turning your body into and absolute explosion of pleasure.

“Ah, ahh… JUNGKOOK!”

The walls of your pussy clang to him in and sucked him in to hit your cervix over and over, intensifying the orgasm as he continued the movements until he himself couldn’t bare it no more and got off on your dripping cunt, eyes screwed shut and mouth parted as he whimpered breathily through it.

Body shuddering and still buried to the bream, Jungkook collapses against you and your legs fall off his shoulders. Trying to keep him in place, you cross your ankles around his waist and throw your arms around his shoulder, both trying to catch your breaths and proper connection to reality. As your body calmed down and temperature returned to normal, you already had the inkling your but would be suffering from a slight friction rash against the carpet. But you would just add it to the bruises Jungkook’s mouth had left and count it as totally worth it.

“Chuory” Jungkook babbles against your shoulder, the fabric of your t-shirt muffling his voice and making it hard to understand what he said.

“What’s that, Kook?”

He lifts his head and rests his upper weight on his forearms, bottom half still very much attached to yours. He looks more like himself now, sweet and kind instead of bitter and angry. In fact, he looked at you almost apologetic.

“I’m sorry I got so jealous. I don’t know what came over me.”

You smile and peck at his worried lips.

“No worries. I’m surprise you could even get jealous when it came to someone like me” you confess, in a humorous tone.

“You are incredibly attractive, Y/N. I saw how that guy was looking at you. And he was so built and strong and… I got scared you would be taken away from me.”

You immediately shake your hand, reaching out for the young boy’s face that was filled with apprehension and anxiety. Holding his face, you make him look at you seriously.

“Never. I would never, Jungkook. I love you. I don’t care if the universe flips and suddenly all the men on this earth suddenly want me, I will always, always love you. Just you.”

He releases a heavy sight and you can almost feel the relief washing over him, the weight that as lifted his shoulders. At last, he smiles brightly and it reaches is eyes in the cutest of ways and you heart sings in response.

“Really?” he asks, a hopeful tone.

“Really. Now, mister, because of this silly fit, I ended my workout too early. It’s your responsibility” you warn him, wandering if he would get it.

“Hum? Do you want to go back? I can help you if- Ahh…!” The way he started made you sure he was not getting what you were hinting at so, to enlighten him, you clench your walls around his flaccid member that hardens in immediate response. Jungkook almost chokes.

“I was thinking more of a home workout.”

“M-my… My pleasure” he readily assures.

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hot-wiings · 4 years ago

Text

The One Where Class 3A Place A Bet On The Relationship Status Of Their Residential Introverts, Desperate For Money, Mirio And Nejire Bet They Can Get Tamaki And [Y/N] Together Before Christmas Hits.

Edited: 12-27-2020

December, 19th.

You tried to contain your smile as you walked beside Tamaki Amajiki, your boyfriend, towards class 3-A. It was rare that you got a moment alone. Being best friends with not one, but two of the most extroverted and hyper kids in your class meant solitude and peace was hard to come by. Your hands grazed each other and you knew there were light blushes on both your faces. Despite having been together for a year now, touching in public would always bring a blush to your face and a rush to your heart, although, the raging blushes weren't as deep as they were a year ago. You'd gotten more comfortable now.

"Are you still coming over to my dorm tonight? For uh, date night?"

"Depends, is Mirio gonna phase into your room again?"

A blush spread across Tamaki's face as he remembered the incident that occurred last week. Mirio had phased into Tamaki's room and found you cuddling together. The problem was that you and Takami didn't have a public relationship. When you first got together the pressure felt high and you were both nervous to be a couple around your rambunctious class, keeping to a secret felt better, being together in secret felt more natural and lighthearted. Despite being together a year now, despite having figured out how to navigate your relationship, despite finding normality and familiarity in each other, you had yet to tell your friends. You just weren't ready to give up your secret. It was such a comprising position for two friends to be found in and while luckily you were able to play it off like you just fell asleep paying videogames, you were both nervous, paranoid, and mostly, embarrassed from almost getting caught.

"He's patrolling with Sir Night Eye tonight."

Tamaki stopped walking once you reached the classroom door and did a quick look-see up and down the halls. They were completely barren and the idea that your entire class was just behind one door was both riveting and daunting. Tamaki softly cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips against yours.

"Just you and me tonight. I'll bring the food, you can bring the movie."

"Can it be romantic and sappy?"

"Whatever movie you want I'll enjoy."

You played with Tamaki's tie as you let your head roll against the wall, a smile tugged your lips up. You really lucked out with him—but he would say the same thing about you.

"How about the note-hey."

You were pulled out of your thoughts as you heard your name being said. Immediately you dropped your hands from Tamaki, straightened yourself up and you looked down the halls for someone with red-tinted cheeks. Had you been caught? There was no one there.

"What is it?"

"I heard my name. Uck. This quirk is a blessing and a curse."

Your quirk was wolfism, probably what attracted Tamaki to you in the first place. It caused you to take on the complete form of a wolf under the full moon, however, on normal days you could take on wolf attributes. When you get extremely angry or tried to 'wolf out' as Nejire would call it, you could get long nails, and take on the appearance of a werewolf depending on how far you tried wolfing out. The real gem to your quirk was other wolf attributes you could use. Between seeing in the dark and a better sense of smell, enhanced hearing was amongst it.

You pressed your ear against the door to class 3-A to hear why your name was being said. You could recognize the voice of your classmates, and among those voices were Mirio and Nejire.

"[Y/N] and Tamaki? They're totally gonna end up together."

"No way! They're too shy for their own good. Amajiki would rather die than ask her out."

"I have to agree with [Student Name #1]. Don't get me wrong, Amajiki is a great guy, he's a great hero, but when it comes to girls—especially girls as cute as that—he's complete rubbish."

"Exactly, and [Y/N]... She could probably take down any villain, and she's hot as fuck, but if she had to ask Amajiki out... She'd piss herself."

You pull your ear off the wall briefly. Very brief, and very quick so you could get back to listening. You only grabbed pulled away to grab Tamaki's arm to get his attention urgently, though, it had already been on you.

"They're talking about us. Said were too shy to get together."

With Tamaki's attention on you, waiting for more, and your ear to the wall listening in, you were both anxious to hear more. Mirio's voice came into the mix.

"You gotta give my buddy a little more credit. Last week I saw them cuddling, intimately."

Nejires voice soon followed, hyper and excited on the prospect of you and Tamaki finally getting together.

"I bet if we just gave them a little push they would get together. Just a tiny, itsy, little push."

"Shy as they are? Impossible. We'll all be pros once [L/N] and Amajiki ever romantically get together."

You pulled away, a small smile and chuckle emitting from your face as you looked at your boyfriend.

"We'll be pro heroes by the time we get together."

"Maybe we should come clean... It has been a year."

You hummed in response as you put your ear back to the wall, considering the option. It would be nice. You could finally freely go on dates, you'd have to stop worrying about them finding out, and you could even hold hands in public. Mirio's voice was the next one you heard, and Nejire's was eager to follow.

"Let's wager a bet then."

"What kind of bet?"

"Well, Nejire and I owe you that money. If we can get [L/N] and Amajiki together by Christmas then you forgive our debt."

"Sound fair, but you have a week until Christmas."

"Me and Mirio have this in the bag. Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy."

"Alright, you have until midnight of Christmas Eve to get them together, not a minute later. We want picture proof too."

"Deal."

You pulled back with a scowl on your face and turned to Tamaki with crossed arms and a pout.

"What's wrong? What'd they say?"

"They're betting on us! On our relationship. If they can get us together by midnight, Christmas eve, then the money they borrowed for Mirio's PS5 will be forgiven."

Tamaki looked up and down the halls briefly before rubbing his hands up and down your arms in comfort. It was upsetting to the both of you that they were betting on you both. Did they think you were that hopeless? So hopeless and unable to get together on your own that they were able to make a quick buck off of you?

"What happens if they lose the bet?"

"Then the money gets doubled. They're betting a lot of money on us. Do they think we're that bad? Well they're wrong! Cause' here we are."

Tamaki pulled away from you as he spotted your teacher coming down the hall, rushing to get to class. He gave you a shy, coy smile as he grabbed your hand to pull you with him to class.

"I guess we'll have to make sure they lose their bet then. After all, they don't know we know."

You walked into the classroom together, pretending you hadn't heard anything of their little bet. Tamaki tugged you closer than usual, not enough to make it seem like you were in a relationship, but enough to be questionable. You had a feeling Tamaki had a plan in motion, and you were already catching on.

"Tamaki buddy! [Y/N]! We were just talking about you both."

You and Tamaki stopped from heading to your desks to talk to Mirio and Nejire who were facing you with grins on their faces.

"Oh? Really?"

"Yes, Mirio was just talking about this new movie that came out! We should all go see it together, and get something to eat too."

"That-that sounds good."

"Great! We'll go on the twenty-first, does that work out?"

You both threw your friends perfect smiles and nodded before turning away and moving to the back of the class where your desks were. They were going to lose the bet, that you were sure of.

December, 21st.

"What's our plan?"

"It's simple really. We're gonna act super cuddly. We're gonna let them think their plan is working, until the end of their bet hits, and evidently, it didn't work and they're stuck paying double the owed about of a play station five."

"I-uh, I'm not sure I can go through with this plan... Cuddly? In public? With everyone watching?"

Tamaki fiddled both his hands and looked at his feet nervously. The idea was scary. Getting intimate and close when there was a chance you could get caught was one thing, but holding hands and being cute and cuddly with the intent to be seen was another thing. It was daunting and scary.

"I know, public affection... It's scary... But just think of it like it's just us alone. It's just me, no one else, and if you get anxious I'll be there to calm you down."

"Okay, you'll be there... We've got this."

Tamaki placed a quick kiss on your cheek before going over to his closet. He dug through his laundry until he found what he was looking for, one of his sweatshirts. It was one of his favorites, he wore it often and there was no way your friends would mistake who's it was. He walked back over to you, a budding embarrassed and happy feeling coursed through his chest at the idea of you wearing his hoodie.

"If our objective is to flirt and act cute, then you should wear my sweater... Please?"

"Great idea, this is really gonna push them over the edge. That's smart. They're gonna lose this bet so hard."

Tamaki had a blush reddening his cheeks at your burst of affirmation that he'd done a good job. You and he looped your arms together before walking out of his dorm room and down to the main entrance of the dorms. Nejire and Mirio were waiting for you, and you smiled at them as you moved your looped arms to linked hands instead. You swung them back and forth as you walked to make it catch their attention.

"So... What movie are we seeing?"

"That new one. The romantic one. It's so romantic, and Christmas themed."

"Nejire, you gotta be more specific, that describes a lot of movies."

"The one about the best friend's who fall in love. You'll love it, it was practically made for you."

You knew Nejire would slip up like this. She got too excited about stuff and made little mistakes. She was a bad secret keeper, you loved her dearly but she was not your go-to person when you had a secret. Another part of your plan was to torment Nejire and Mirio the entire time. They didn't know that you knew, and you knew just what buttons to push to either get them to confess or paranoid enough to think that you knew and keep them on edge.

"Oh? You think so? Why?"

Mirio shot Nejire a look as if to say be more careful. His bank account was riding on this bet. He didn't want to pay back the money for the play station console, let alone have it doubled. He was confident he and her could pull this off, provided you didn't know. Nejire scratched the back of her head and laughed it off.

"Oh, come on! You can't tell me you've never thought of our little Sun Eater like that? Everyone's thought of their best friend romantically at least twice! I mean look at me and Mir'. We were best friends and now we're dating."

Nejire was smooth with her words but had Mirio not shot her a look, you were positive she would've slipped up about the bet. Instead, she fixed her words and hinted at feelings between you and Tamaki but making it seem like she was referring to herself.

"I and Tamaki are just friends."

Tamaki moved his hand from inside yours and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He squeezed your shoulder with his hand to help stop his shaky hand as you and him looked at each other briefly. He was nervous, you could tell as he looked down at you and spoke out his words.

"Best friends."

"Mm. The bestest."

You leaned your head against Tamaki as you uttered your words. You saw how Mirio looked back at you and then nudged Nejire in the side so she could not so discreetly steal a look at you and Tamaki. You smiled, just fakely playing into their plans of getting you and Tamaki together. It was a short walk, and before long Tamaki was pulling you into the movie theater, making sure to open the door for you to which Mirio nodded approvingly as he whispered into Nejire's ear. He was proud his friend was acting like a gentleman, his plan was going to go so well, at least, that's what they thought.

You stood in line together, Tamaki and you never leaving each other's side. Occasionally Tamaki would move his hand from your shoulder to your hair, playing with it nervously, a habit he picked from cuddling with you late at night. Mirio paid for Nejire's ticket, courtesy of her being his girlfriend and they stood off to the side while they waited for you both to pay for your tickets.

"Hi, um, can we have two kid tickets for 'A Christmas kiss', a large dr-pepper, and a large popcorn?"

The man behind the counter rang you up and eyed you warily, trying to decide if he really should run you up as a child or adult–decidedly, he didn't make enough money to care how old you were. With a tired sigh, he gave you your total.

"That'll be twenty-one, nineteen."

You went to pull out your wallet from your purse, where you had hidden and concealed candy from the dollar store, but Tamaki had already beaten you to it and paid for you using MooglePay. You turned to him, a grateful smile on your face. You knew Mirio and Nejire were watching so you took a deep breath, leaned up on your tiptoes, and pressed a kiss against his cheek. You stood back down on flat feet, and with blushes on both of your faces, you carried your popcorn and pop to meet Mirio and Nejire. That was your first kiss in public, at least in public when people were looking.

"Thanks for paying Tama'. You're the best."

You made sure to say the words out loud in front of Nejire and Mirio, planting the seeds of hope and romance in their pretty little heads as blushes remained on your faces. You walked down to your designated theater room, devious plans in your heads. You both sat in the back, next to each other and secluded from other people whereas Nejire and Mirio sat in the middle. Throughout the entire hour, they kept throwing you and Tamaki not so discreet looks, trying to see how cuddly you were acting.

"Do you think they know how obvious they are?"

"Mirio's always been obvious like that. He wouldn't know discreet if it hit him."

Tamaki wrapped his arm over your shoulder and you leaned your head against his chest as he saw Mirio take another look. He had a beaming smile, he thought his and Nejire's plan to get you together was working out. As the credits rolled on the screen and the dimmed lights brightened, Nejire and Mirio got a better view of you both. You fed Tamaki a piece of popcorn, knowing they were watching you both intensely.

You and Tamaki fell into a peaceful order as he fed you a piece in response. It was normal, normal, and natural to be this way with him. This was how you acted together in the confines of your bedroom, the only difference was that you were out in public. Forgetting they were even there, Tamaki cupped your cheeks and pressed a deep kiss against your lips. Naturally, like clockwork, your body responded by deepening it and moving your lips back in sync.

"Oh my gosh, you kissed! Ahh, it's so romantic, are you gonna date now?"

"Neji' calm down, it's their first kiss."

You and Tamaki abruptly pulled away. You didn't know what kind of shows Mirio watched, but that was not what a first kiss looked like. That was what two lovers who forgot that they were out in public looked like. You and Tamaki stood up and laughed, lacing fingers.

"I mean... If Tamaki asked me out, I wouldn't stop him."

"I– If [Y/N] wants to date me. I mean, [Y/N], will you go out with me."

"I'd like that."

This was not how your plan was supposed to go.

December, 22nd.

You paced back in forth in your dorm room, your feet making a constant flow of steps and probably annoying the student living on the floor below you. It wasn't your fault, not really. This was one of the attributes you got from your wolfism quirk. It was in your doggy nature to pace when you got anxious and upset. It was biological. Your boyfriend sat on your bed, a nervous frown played on his face as he ran his shaky hands through his hair. He wasn't sure if he should comfort and soothe you or continue to silently wallow in self-pity.

"They didn't even do anything, they just took us to a romantic movie. They didn't even pay."

"I'm sorry, did I-Uhm, did I ruin the plan by kissing you?"

You momentarily stopped your pacing back and forth to stand and snap your head over in your boyfriend's direction. Anyone else would have found your actions weird. The way you stopped so fast and snapped your head over to him at an insane pace would've been creepy. Again, it was just biological reflexes due to your quirk. If he was holding a piece of bacon you would've turned quicker.

"No."

You walked over to your boyfriend and straddled him on the bed. It wasn't sexual or sensual, your quirk was just taking over, your deep-rooted wolfy attributes. Your instinct was just to comfort your mate. He was stressed, anxious, and worried, and you could sense all of those feelings. You pulled his hands out of his hair and laced your fingers through his. They were still shaky as you smiled down at him.

"No, it's not your fault. Never your fault. You just kissed me, we both got carried away."

"But we lost the bet, I should've paid more attention to them. I should've watched to see if they were looking."

"Uh-uh. None of that negativity. We lost the battle, not the war."

You rolled off of Tamaki, both worried you were crushing him and bashful to be in such a compromising position now that you'd come down from the primal wolfy high.

"The conditions to the bet are that we have to kiss and say were together to [Student A] and [Student B] by midnight of the twenty-fourth. That's three days away. We're gonna invite Mirio and Nejire over, and we're gonna act like the cutest couple ever. Then tomorrow, we'll stage a huge breakup fight."

"That's a really good plan."

"Of course it is, I have the best plans."

Tamaki cupped your cheeks by hooking his slender fingers under your ears and pressed a quick kiss against the skin in between your eyebrow and let his head rest there.

"They'll think they've got the bet in the bag, and then we'll rip it away."

"I like it. It's sneaky, and it just might work."

You pulled out your phone and punched in the password before pulling up the group chat Nejire and Mirio were in with you and Tamaki.

[Y/N]: Do you guys wanna come over to my dorm? 👉👈 me and tamaki want to thank you for going out with us. It was rly, enlightening.

Nejire Hado: Yes!! We'd love too!!!! Does this mean your dating now?!!!

You locked and put your phone back into your pocket knowing answering Nejire would be futile because she would just ask more questions once she got inside your dorm. You nuzzled yourself into Tamaki, both cuddling and scenting him–not that he'd ever know that's what you were doing.

"Can you give me a hickey?"

"What... What?"

"A hickey. I want a hickey. Think about it, if Nejire and Mirio saw it, they'd be so happy thinking they're gonna win."

"They're on their way up here though..."

Your hands gripped the sides of Tamaki's shirt, pulling him closer to you and your nesting head.

"Even better, we'll get to avoid the 'are you a couple' questions."

"Fine... Just-just doesn't be too loud, I don't want anyone hearing."

Tamaki pulled down the collar of your shirt to get to work on marking up your skin. He didn't know what was going on with you. Lately, you'd been clingier, rubbing on him and getting freeskier. Hornier, he supposed, regardless he gave in to your whims. He pulled you closer and latched his mouth to your skin, sucking, tugging, and pulling to make a bruised mark. The door burst open and he was working and a crimson blush covered both of your faces.

"Nuh- Nejire! I- I told you to stop barging in my room like that."

"Sorry [Y/N] but I–Oh Mirio! I told you they were totally getting it on."

"Well, yeah... He's my, uhm, my boyfriend now."

December, 23rd.

Tamaki Amajiki paced around his bedroom floor. He fiddled with his hands as he tried to go over your plan in his head, carefully going over every detail, and every word you spoke out to him. It was the day of your fake fight where you would 'break up', the night before Christmas Eve to spring Nejire and Mirio into panic mode.

"I- I don't think I can pull this off."

"You can do it."

You walked over to Tamaki and wrapped your arms around him from behind. You rested your head on his back, reassuring him it would be okay, and reassuring him he would do good. It brought a crimson blush to his face, but regardless he was very nervous.

"What if I mess up?"

"You're gonna do good, okay? None of what we're saying is real, alright? It's fake. We're just convincing Mirio and Nejire, and it doesn't affect what I think about you. I'll even sneak over tonight to see you."

"Okay. Okay, do you wanna go over some lines?"

"Nope, I've got thick skin, besides Nejire and Mirio are on their way up and I don't want them overhearing our rehearsal."

Tamaki pulled out of your iron-clad grip and turned around to kiss your forehead tenderly, enjoying the soft space of skin.

"I love you alright? No matter what I say, it's fake."

"I know, I love you too. Do you want a codeword, in case we're too harsh? Something to say 'hey, dial it back'. Like, uhm, squid? I think I could work that into an argument."

You pressed a quick kiss against Tamaki's lips. You would have liked to deepen and further it along but you heard a knock on the door. You assumed this was to give you privacy and make you and Tamaki more comfortable in hopes of furthering your relationship. You and Tamaki broke apart and got ready to start screaming at each other once they walked in. Mirio and Nejire came in after giving you and Tamaki a moment in case you were fornicating in some type of way.

"I can't believe you."

"Whoa, what happened?"

Mirio was quick to try and intervene. He had rarely seen Tamaki sound so upset and get worked up. It was alarming that you were the person that he had it directed at. Mirio had never seen Tamaki look at someone with as much love as he did with you. Tamaki would move mountains for you, and Mirio saw it. That was why he originally took the bet in the first place.

"I took [Y/N] out for breakfast this morning, and she was basically flirting with the server."

You had to fight off the smile on your face as Tamaki came up with the lie so quickly. You had been inside his dorm all morning playing video games together and eating junk food, a chip bag hidden half underneath the bed was there as proof. Nejire started to bite her thumb nail as she watched Tamaki get upset. Truthfully, she and Mirio had planned to slip special animal meat in his food after the movie a couple of nights ago but decided against it once you guys kissed. They wanted to get him territorial and jealous over you, clearly, that would've backfired.

"I wasn't flirting with him! All I did was say thanks and asked for a refill."

"Yeah, you were really thirsty for him, weren't you?"

"Maybe I wouldn't be so thirsty if my own boyfriend felt comfortable kissing me in public."

You had to stifle a laugh, you wanted to giggle so hard. None of this was true, but Mirio and Nejire were eating it up like butter. Your performance was so good, and Tamaki was doing so great.

"Maybe I'd be more comfortable kissing you if you didn't wolf out and get so possessive all the time."

You crossed your arms and tried to compose yourself as tears flooded to your eyes. That last comment hurt. It really hurt. You were really insecure about it and scared that your wolfism would affect your relationship. Worried you'd get too possessive and jealous, and worried that he'd find your scenting on him and habits weird. You start sniffling as the tears start to come down faster. You knew he didn't mean it. It's fake. It's fake fight, but hearing him say it felt so real.

This was your own idea, why were you being such a baby?

"Well, maybe I don't want to be with a mean squid face. Here's your sweater back, we're over!"

You ripped his sweatshirt off of your body, despite not really wanting to. It was a comfort item for you. Smelling his residue scent on things he's previously worn really brought warmth and comfort in you. On days you were particularly sad, and hurt, on days you felt pure anxiety and fear, having a piece of him with you helped. It helped you, but you still had to put on a show for Mirio and Nejire.

"Give that back to Squidward for me, will you?"

You tossed the sweater at Mirio who easily caught it with a worried expression. Although the bet was at stake here, he was worried for you as he saw hot tears make their way down your face. You took off out of Tamaki's room, making a dramatic exit with Nejire following hot on your tail.

You wanted to win the bet–or rather have your friends lose the bet since you never made the bet, but it hurt so much it didn't even matter.

December 24th, Christmas Eve.

The following day you and Tamaki kept a distance as promised. It was part of the plan. Stay separate until after midnight, then, and only then would you reveal your relationship. You had both mutually promised to keep your distance, but it hurt you both. You hadn't shown up at Tamaki's dorm that night like you promised you would. He knew that he had taken it too far after you called him a squid, but he hadn't meant to. He didn't think you would take such offense to it, he hadn't known how sensitive you were about it. To put it plainly Tamaki felt horrible. He was trying to figure out a way he could fix this but he kept coming up empty. How was he supposed to fix it when you were supposed to be ignoring each other?

On the other hand, you felt just as horrible as Tamaki did. You felt embarrassed and ashamed for being so sensitive and emotional. You didn't know what came over you. You wanted to blame it on the wolf aspect of yourself, but that only made you feel worse. You couldn't help but nibble on your lips evIry time you caught Tamaki looking over at you. On one hand, you were happy he was looking at you. You were worried you upset him with your little outburst and ruined things, this gave you hope and a sense of relief. On the other hand, you still wanted to win this bet and Nejire was following you around trying to get you to talk to Tamaki, whereas Mirio was doing the same for his friend. You both didn't want to talk, embarrassed about how things went, worried they'd messed things up on their end.

"I see you watching him, why don't you just go talk to him."

"It's not that simple Nejire, you wouldn't understand. You and Mirio have had a long picture-perfect relationship, you're not Tamaki and me."

It wasn't like other times Nejire gave you advice. Other times you could give it to her straight and she'd give you the best input, this time you were secretly trying to foil her and Mirios plans. You couldn't just say, it was a fake fight and I overreacted. Or alternatively, it was a fake fight but his words sounded sincere, what if he really doesn't want me. You couldn't be honest with her. Especially not now, knowing she was going to take every little thing to Mirio, who inevitably, would tell Tamaki.

"So make me understand. Try to get me to understand you. You and Tamaki are perfect for each other!"

"No, we aren't!"

Your words came out in a small yell, and most people around could probably have heard what you said. You backtracked your words, embarrassed as you crossed your arms and hugged them to your chest. It was eleven-fifty, and Nejire had ten minutes for her and Mirio to get you and Tamaki together, but at this point, she didn't care. Ten minutes wasn't long enough, she had accepted defeat unlike Mirio, all she could do now was remorsefully wish with you and Tamaki were a couple. She thought you were both blind, she had never seen two people more fitting and perfect for each other.

"I'm sorry for yelling, but he doesn't like my wolfism. You heard him, and that's not- that's not something I can change about myself. It's biological..."

"[Y/N] I-"

"You know [L/N], if Amajiki isn't interested in you anymore I wouldn't mind taking you out."

Some random guy had cut into your conversation with Nejire. You hadn't seen him here before, he looked young, most likely a first-year student. You wondered how he even got in there, it was a Christmas party at the class 3-A dorms, intended only for third-year students. The proposition was completely preposterous. You and Tamaki weren't completely over. All he had done was insult you, it was a fake insult, and while you were simply positive he was going to break up with you, you weren't going to flirt with another guy just yet, and definitely not a first year.

"I- uhm... well- I..."

"I think what my shy friend is trying to say here is no. She's not interested, trust me."

"Awe c'mon!"

The guy leaned back against the food table he was standing in front of. You tried not to scrunch your face up in want and desire. He was leaning into a meat tray. A meat tray. The delectable treat looked so scrumptious, sausage, and cheese so perfectly put out for display. He shouldn't be leaning so hard, he'll ruin it. You wanted to devour it in an instant. Truthfully that was where your mind went when you stuttered out your reply and Nejire had to come to your rescue. You didn't care for the first year, you just wanted the meat tray.

It didn't appear that way to Tamaki. Watching from the distance all he saw was you staring over at that guy with such a distinct look in your eyes. A look of wanting and hunger. He knew he messed up by insulting your quirk. He didn't know you'd get so hurt, but he should've thought about that first. If you had insulted his quirk like that, he'd be upset. Tamaki slowly walked forward, closer and closer trying to hear what the young first-year student was saying to you.

"You'd love going out with me. I'd appreciate every part of you and your body."

"Oh, um... Look, I'm sure you're a nice guy and all... But like my friend said, I'm, um, I'm just not that interested right now."

"I see the way you're looking at me, quit playing hard to get. I bet your quirk really gets you going in bed."

You took a step back as the guy took a step forward. You should have told him off, you should have handled the situation better. You should have asserted yourself from the beginning instead of letting Nejire handle it, you should have shown you weren't a pushover, maybe then the guy would've gotten the point. You took more steps backward, embarrassed, and stunned at what he was implying to you. You truly just wanted the meat platter he was in front of. As the guy was about to touch you, Nejire was about to step forward and intervene when Tamaki jumped into the equation. Tamaki grabbed the guy's wrist before he could touch your hip and pushed his wrist into his body. The boy cowered back and cradled his arm from the strength Tamaki had used to squeeze him and make him cower back.

"That- uhm, that wasn't polite. She said she wasn't interested and when a girl says no, she means no. I suggest you leave before every third-year female in this room decides to tell you that themselves."

"Right... um right. Sorry."

The boy mumbles out a bad apology lowly before he quickly made his way out of the building. Tamaki didn't see the boy going very far in the hero course. He turned to you and hesitantly rubbed his hand up and down your arm, unsure if you would welcome his touch.

"Are you okay?"

"It's fine, I'm fine."

"I'm sorry for upsetting you yesterday, I didn't mean to, please don't break up with me."

Part of your lip quipped up into a smile at how sweet Tamaki was acting. He didn't do anything wrong. He didn't need to apologize. It was you, all you.

"Tamaki... you don't need to apologize, I overreacted. The truth is... I'm really insecure about my quirk. I- my wolfism makes me act funny. When I go through my, you know, I react more like a dog going through heat. I get really clingy, and horny, and jealous, which can be a big turn off to some people. In all honesty, I thought you were going to break up with me."

"No, god no."

He rushed his words out as he pulled you into his arms. His hands rubbed up and down your back, trying to soothe you knowing you were on the verge of tears. He pulled back and pressed a kiss against your head. His soft lips felt good.

"I'm never breaking up with you, you're it for me. Heart, soul, and life. I don't care if your clingy, or horny, or jealous, because you'll be mine, and I'll be yours."

A smile warmed your face as your hands came up and caressed Tamaki's suit. You gripped the sides of the dress jacket and pulled him down a few inches to press a kiss against his lips. You both smiled into it, happy to feel each other again, even if it was in public.

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas... Can we deal with Mirio and Nejire later? I just wanna cuddle you right now."

"Yes, no, yes. We can cuddle but you have to help me sneak the meat platter out of here."

Tamaki placed another soft kiss on you, this time your lips, and he smiled down at you before pulling you into the direction of the meat platter. You were special to him, so even with everyone's eyes on him and you, class 3-A's resident shy students, Tamaki started piling meat into napkins and fitting them inside his pocket. If you wanted a meat platter, then you deserved a meat platter. tI didn't matter who was watching, not when it was you with him.

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junicai · 4 years ago

Text

Relationship with NCT Dream

➣ MARK ☾ mari

½ of the best friend crew

honestly at the beginning, mark and aria weren’t very close, having only really seen each other in passing or with johnny

but after being dropped into training together the two quickly became fast friends, and now they’re borderline inseparable

you thought you knew pain? watch aria’s reaction to mark’s graduation from dream :)

mark’s the reason why aria felt confident enough to pitch some of her lyric ideas to the team, after staying up until 4am to help her make some edits so she was as confident as possible

kinda just, rests his head on her shoulder? and wraps his arms around her waist when he’s tired

mari being confused in foreigner: ???

aria said once in a vlive that she finds mark really comforting to be around - when she feels stressed or worried about something she’ll go to mark’s room and just sit on his bed for a while

aria is so close with his parents - “ahh, how’s my favourite child” “i’m doing great mom.” “no not you, how’s aria?” “wh-hu-MOM?”

you’d swear sometimes mark is younger than her, considering the pout he puts on and how much he whines when they’re not on the same team together for promotions

mark big protecc boi but also little small cuddly boi

they’re so soft for each other ( ╥ω╥ )

in one of the fancams for mark’s solo stage during superm, someone zoomed into aria singing along with him in the wings and dancing to herself with the Proudest Smile™

he’s! so! proud! of! her! constantly! she could be walking and he’d be like “omg get it”

when aria refuses to get up and make herself food (this happens way too often, she just gets into the groove of her work and doesn’t want to move) mark gets her to by threatening to do it himself

consistently caught by czennies just standing behind her and holding her hand in crowded areas - airports, waiting rooms, etc.

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

mark and aria were standing off to one side as the mc explained the rules of the game they were about to be playing. mark looked totally confused, and elbowed aria in her side before looking down and mouthing “what?” to her. aria opened her mouth, before closing it and looking down at the ground, muttering to herself, “결합… 結合….. le chéile…. le… le.. oh oh - combined! we have to put them together, markie.”and thus, a new confusion meme was born

➣ RENJUN ☾ renjaria

renjun and aria room together while she’s promoting with dream

they were so awkward around each other at the beginning :(

only really spoke in passing, or when they had to

it was renjun that broke the ice at first, asking if she wanted to go shopping for the dorm together

now it’s their thing

“no aria, we can’t get more ice-cream we’re all supposed to be on diets.” “but ｡ﾟ･ (>﹏<) ･ﾟ｡ please”

he’s lowkey soft for her but he’d rather throw himself off the roof then tell her that

piano pals

he started teaching her how to properly play once he found her messing around on a keyboard in the studio one day

they actually argue quite a bit

not about big things, but about smaller things that push each other over the edge because of stress

the first time he yelled at her, aria spent the night in hyuck’s room

hyuck yelled at renjun for making her cry

now they’re probably the best pairing for talking through their emotions instead of blowing up on each other

they’re both quite opinionated people, and they’ve learnt to navigate that well so fights don’t happen as often

does that stop renjun from teasing aria an within an inch of her life? absolutely not

“i’ll kill you” “can you, reach?” “LISTEN HERE-”

he acts like he’s 10ft tall, excuse you sir you are barely 5′6″

renjun was her mandarin teacher for a while, but then kun kindly told her that her “introduction” was actually calling herself an idiot

aria has a bad problem with saesangs go away bitches and renjun is iconic for going off on them for her because she doesn’t like to make a big deal out of it all

he gets so angry on her behalf

that was actually a topic of one of their biggest arguments smh

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

aria was leaning on a pile of books to prop herself up as she leant forwards to try and hang a string of lights on her bedroom wall. renjun walked in, and immediately came to her aid, speaking with a teasing tone. “need a hand?”

aria, without ceremony just elbowed him in the stomach and used his then folded up figure to push herself up higher. “yes, thank you!”

she got hate for that one, but it was all in good fun and renjun was laughing after it

➣ JENO ☾ nori

aria is his princess and everyone else can fight him

like they’re both doyoung’s children, but if it comes down to it he will lay down his life for her

and not even in a romantic way, just a “you’re too precious i have to protect you” kind of way

czennies thought he was in love with her for the entirety of nct 2018 promotions

this boy was hanging off of her at any given second, and there was an edited video of jeno “glaring” at lucas’ back when the taller boy walked away after hugging aria

it was faked, stan twt needs to chill out

he drags her to the gym

he’s basically her big brother? but they’re the same age - its a weird dynamic but they make it work

they’re so LOUD together

not chaotic, but he makes her laugh so hard

vlive 191030: “nono-ah makes my cheeks hurt so i can’t spend too long around him. my sides hurt too ~ ♡(｡- ω -)”

any and all fanfictions written about the two are definitely either coffee shop, university or library AUs

this man walks like a bodyguard around her - boy got the arm over the shoulder, tucked her head into him, covering her face, its a whole ordeal

dispatch released some pictures of aria one day and accidentally blurred out jeno’s face because they thought he was her bodyguard

is so. so mindful of how long aria spends in the training rooms

like, yes everyone else expects her home before midnight (long story)

but jeno actively makes sure to ask people what time she left the dorm at, and texts her to remind her to take water breaks and to come home at a good time so she can sleep

these two are the creators of so many iconic vlives - they have a bad habit of going live at 1 or 2 in the morning, just doing random things

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

“hi hi! so, nono and i- jeno stop it, stop it! - nono and i are walking down to the park to go feed the birds - yes we’re going to feed the bird- no! we are not going to feed the ducks, bread can kill the ducks! why did you bring brea-”

jeno pulled the camera from aria’s hands. “ari and i,” he looked at her purposefully, “are going back to the dorms because someone forgot to bring the bird seed, and apparently we can’t give bread to ducks anymore.”

*sounds of aria intermittently hitting and scolding jeno ensue*

➣ DONGHYUCK ☾ arichan

the other half of the best friend crew

absolute heathens to be around when they are together

donghyuck is the person aria is closest to, and someone she’d call her best friend (only when she was sure he wouldn’t hear her)

she calls him “the demon child i can’t get rid of” but will, and has definitely pouted when he ignored her for too long

generally aria is a pretty soft spoken person, but not with hyuck around - he brings out all her chaos energy (please pray for the patience of dotae)

the pair have a little tradition of kissing the back of each others’ hands before going on stage for good luck. they can’t even remember how it started, but now its an unnegotiable pre-show ritual

he’s so clingy with her absolutely everywhere its painfully adorable (ಥ﹏ಥ)

interviews? hyuck has a hand on her knee, or if she’s wearing a skirt he’s tucked his hand in between their chairs so she can hold it discreetly. in the dorms? full body tackle onto the couch, where he proceeds to lay on top of her completely.

because of hyuck’s nickname being the sun, and aria always being around him, czennies gave her the nickname “moon” to go with him

fans thought that aria was older than hyuck for a good year and a half before she released her birthday on a vlive, because she’s normally the one tasked with reigning his chaotic energy in during promotions (that is, if she hasn’t already joined him)

but off-camera, aria is absolutely hyuck’s baby there is no disputing that. aria’s sad?he’s there with ice-cream and a blanket and a baseball bat.

the winnie the pooh character that is on aria’s bed was a gift from hyuck for her 17th birthday, after she made him watch seven episodes of the show on netflix with her one night

yes he complained, but he slapped her hand away when she went to change it to something else

a twitter thread of a czennie comparing their horoscopes together went viral when people realized that it was quite plausible that the pair were each others (platonic) soulmates

after an incident involving blueberries, donghyuck took it upon himself to check the ingredients of every. single. food item in their dorm to make sure it was ok for her to eat

hyuck clowns her for her irish accent, and aria curses him out in japanese

tldr: they cute or whatever

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

donghyuck was doing a vlive in his bedroom, sitting and talking to czennies when aria opened the door to his room quietly. she didn’t say anything, just waved slightly with almost closed eyes before she crawled underneath his covers and tucked her plushie underneath her chin. hyuck didn’t even blink at it - so it must have been a regular occurrence.

➣ JAEMIN ☾ nari

jaemin highkey flusters her

not in a oo you’re so cute, cute boy make nerves go eeee

but he’ll wink at her and teasingly compliment her and now she looks like a firetruck this isn’t fair

he absolutely takes advantage of this where ever possible

“riri, can i have some?” “no, i just made these you should have helped me (-_-)” “riri~ but you looked so cute making them i didn’t want to interrupt you~” *aria.exe has stopped responding*

but when aria isn’t trying to get her cheeks to stop being red, they’re really cute together

you’d swear aria is older, by how much jaemin whines for her attention

the mighty battles between jaemin and hyuck

hyuck’s just biding his time for the rooftop fight

kinda panics around her when she’s crying, but is always the first to offer up a hug

has a period tracker on his phone but no one knows about it

he doesn’t like to coddle her because they’re so close in age, but that doesn’t stop him from getting protective in certain situations *cough cough the fansign cough cough*

jaemin and aria cuddling when they’re drunk? more likely than you’d think

he definitely professed his undying love for her at one point while being drunk, and chenle caught it on video

“noona we’re playing that at your wedding”

designated blanket/pillow hunter at award shows, and if he can’t find one then he usually just gives her his jacket

the amount of coffee these two consume should be illegal

aria prefers to call him nana and he prefers to call her riri in the dorms, so when either of them get called by their first name by the other it means A: they’re on a schedule, or B: someone’s about to die

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

nct dream on idol room were trying out jaemin’s death-in-a-cup (his coffee) and as the cup got passed around, aria grew more and more concerned with each face the members made. “jaemin if i die from this-”

he only smiled at her while passing over the cup. aria held it up to look at the black liquid skeptically, before sighing in resignation and bringing the cup to her lips to take a sip.

and then another.

“wait this is good i like this”

➣ CHENLE ☾ leri

hide yo kids and hide yo wives because leri is entering the chat

*cue aria and chenle wearing 2000s rapper clothes with backwards baseball caps*

these two are so chaotically calm

its like the energy cancels out or something

aria with hyuck is just so loud and obnoxious, and the same with chenle with jisung

so when you put those two together it just turns into le positive vibes

you ever meditated to those 132 hertz sounds? thats them in a sound

aria will hold him like a baby kitten she’s expecting to try wriggle out of her grip at any moment and its comical because he’s a good head taller than her

aria definitely has a knack for making her groupmates’ parents fall in love with her

every two weeks or so she goes for dinner in chenle’s house upon his mother’s request

they have a mutual understanding of the mental toll it takes to be around the rest of the dreamies constantly

chenle and aria sitting peacefully, watching a cdrama:

the dreamies, throttling each other: AAAAAAAAAAA

will never admit it but he misses her the most when she goes away to promote

he thinks of her as a big sister and the dorms feel empty without her there

aggressive proud hugs

so aggressive, he legit tackles her

he had to tone it down after knocking her over once backstage and she narrowly missed clocking herself on a nearby soundboard

“YAH ZHONG CHENLE YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL!”

he always gets a little bit anxious when they eat things outside of the dorms because he’s never seen her have an allergic reaction before and he’d like to keep it that way (`皿´＃)

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

chenle was particularly restless that day, constantly shuffling about in his seat to the point where renjun forcefully tossed an arm over his shoulders to hold him still while the vlive was still playing.

not one to be defeated, chenle then turned to press his lips to renjun’s cheek playfully, laughing when the older boy turned away in disgust. he turned to do the same to aria, coming closer to her cheek before aria turned her head to face his.

“AAA-” “EW CHENLE WHY”

➣ JISUNG ☾ jiri

oh god oh god oh god

if aria could take this boy and wrap him in a blanket and keep him in her pocket she would - no questions asked

jisung knows she loves him the most out of dream sorry markhyuck and takes advantage of it every second

she used to coddle him a lot when he was smaller, but now that he’s older aria tries to rein it in as much as possible

that doesn’t mean it goes away completely though

“noona can you cook for me?” “of course jisungie! what do you want?”

*jeno gobsmacked in the background* “you just told me you were too tired to cook tonight”

aria: big baby, must protect

jisung: tiny noona, must protect

jaemin and aria are really the only people jisung is ok with seeing him be super emotional - and he flip flops between the two depending on the reason why he’s emotional

self-esteem, feeling poopy side of it all? straight into aria’s bed, letting her roll him onto his side so she can tuck his head into her shoulder and covers the two of them with her duvet the way she used to do when he was shorter

this boy cannot curse around her unless he wants to get his ass Beat

dancing bros

they go so hard in their NCT Dance duet videos

he keeps band-aids in his bag for her in exchange for her keeping an extra bottle of water in hers because jisung always forgets his own

jisung rests his elbow on her head a lot

but only briefly because the last time he stayed there for too long she stamped on his foot

tldr: aria is jisung’s emotional support gnome

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

jisung and aria were doing the chicken leg battle (this one) to fight for first dibs on the rooms they were going to be sharing for the next week or so. just before they were about to start, mark started laughing and pointing at how high jisung’s leg came up on aria’s, with aria’s knee barely hitting jisung’s mid-thigh

“this is an unfair advantage! this is cheating!”

229 notes · View notes

passable-talent · 5 years ago

Note

Hey please continue your Zuko fic as soon as possible! I love it so much!

oh I’m so surprised I got this request within hours of posting part 3 👀👀

agsbfjcjs I tease I’m loving this series too

well everyone, here we are again

| part 1 | part 2 | part 3 |

“Who’s Mai?”

Zuko’s eyebrows moved a bit in confusion before it registered that you might’ve been asleep, that night, when he told you of his old girlfriend. And even then, he hadn’t mentioned her name. Slowly his hands pulled from where they had kept gentle grip on your biceps.

“I, uh,” he stuttered, “let’s find somewhere to talk.” You let him lead you into a room in the temple up toward the top of the cliff, far away from the rest of the team, and even Haru or the Duke weren’t likely to come up here.

Uneasy, you settled down against the wall, one leg extended in front of you and the other bent, it’s foot flat on the ground. You did your best to feel for Zuko’s heartbeat, like Toph could, to determine sincerity. You couldn’t sense it well enough yet, having barely gotten a grasp on seismic sense in the first place, and let your knee fall to the side.

“So who’s Mai?” You asked again as he sat down against a wall adjacent to yours. Not too close, but not too far away.

“An old girlfriend I had before I was banished. We spent some time together when I returned to the Fire Nation, but... it didn’t feel right. I’m not the same as I was before I was banished.” Any number of snarky replies came into your mind, but you didn’t respond, merely waiting for him to continue.

“Well, Sokka and I, we went to the Boiling Rock, a high profile prison in the Fire Nation. We were trying to pass as guards, but I got found out, and kept as prisoner.” You leaned forward with concern, for a moment forgetting the point of the conversation as you worried for him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, nothing happened,” Zuko said, tossing his head to the side in a bit of guilt. “But the warden... the warden was her uncle, and she came in to see me.” You raised an eyebrow, leaned back to press your spine to the wall, interested in where this would go.

“I had written her a letter, before I left, and it wasn’t a very good one. I hadn’t known what to say. She was pissed, and threw it at me, and scolded me, and...” he shook his head, and looked down at his feet.

“It wasn’t good.” At this point, you began to wonder why he was telling you all of this. As much as you were more likely to air on the side of finding fault in his actions, it seemed to you like nothing had happened. There was nothing for you to be angry about- he hadn’t had some tearful declaration of love or anything, so what was the issue?

“I locked her in my cell to get away so that Sokka and I could escape with Hakoda and Suki. I feel kinda bad about that, but she got out, so whatever.” You tilted your head, not giving him the luxury of avoiding eye contact. You weren’t quite glaring, but you did find yourself trying to intimidate as best you could.

It was a good wall to build around you.

“And I feel so confused,” he said, closing his eyes and clenching his fists, “because I don’t understand. I wasn’t a good boyfriend even when we were ‘together’ earlier in the summer, and I wrote her a bad letter, and I left, and I locked her in a cell, and she still helped me escape. She stood up against Azula to help me escape.” This caught your attention, as you knew the guts it would’ve taken to stand up to the psychopathic princess. It was a sacrifice- it would’ve made her just as much an enemy to the Fire Nation as Zuko.

“I just don’t get it,” he said again, and you looked away from him.

“Ever considered that you’re sometimes a pretty good guy and that people care about you?” You said, without pausing on any particular word because you wanted to get the statement done and over with quickly. With your foot pressed to the floor you could sense through seismics the way his head jerked up to look at you, even if you didn’t look at him.

“You think so?” He asked, and a quick laugh made your chest jump once.

“Sometimes,” you said, turning your gaze back to him. “Was this all you wanted to talk to me about? Figure out why she would do that for you?”

“Well, that, and...” he pushed a few strands of hair from his face in nervousness. “I just wanted to be honest with you. When we met, I- I did nothing but lie, and I don’t want to lie to you ever again. I want you to know everything. Including the awkward moment I had with my ex-girlfriend.” Slowly a plan formed in your mind, and you narrowed your eyes in focus.

“Why does what you do with ex-girlfriends concern me?” You asked, and his eyes met yours, slight confusion in his expression. He swallowed, working out your meaning. This was his opportunity- would he say he cared about you? That he loved you? That he wanted you to not be jealous because his heart now belonged with you?

“You know why,” he said after a moment’s pause, eyes still locked on yours and voice low. A small smirk came to your face.

“I’m afraid I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Y/N,” he said quickly, voice almost firm. He paused to gather his courage and knotted his fingers into the fabric of his pants. “I care about you. And I wanted you to know that you don’t need to worry about Mai.” He paused a moment longer, finally breaking eye contact, which was a great relief to you.

“And even I know you don’t feel the same right now, but I know you did once, and I’m trying to earn that back again.” You swallowed hard, your gaze on the side of his face now that he’d turned it from you. With a split second decision you scooted closer, sitting beside him, and leaning your shoulder against his. You had to make moves like this, and the hug from before he had left, because if you didn’t, you’d never learn to. You were reaching out of your comfort zone, slowly, just like he was.

“I can’t trust you,” you whispered, feeling as though the two of you would break apart and scatter if either spoke too loud. “Not yet.”

“I know,” he said back, the badger frogs filling the silence between the two of you.

“But I’m getting there,” you said, resting your head onto his shoulder. “You’re earning it back, slowly.” He nodded, and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. You let your eyes skip closed, and for a moment felt as though you could fall asleep, leaned against him like this.

This was how you had leaned on him when you were exhausted and on break from the Jasmine Dragons. You’d rest your feet and lean on him, and the two of you would talk until the break was over. It was so familiar, the sound of his breathing, the firmness of his muscle.

“You think you can ever trust me again?” Zuko asked, vulnerability in his voice, “After what I’ve done to you?”

“I think so,” you said, breathing softly. “I did once. And deep down, you’re that same guy. When you were in Ba Sing Se, you were guided by nothing but the kindness you were shown by your uncle. I’m not foolish- I know that Azula manipulated you. I know that, even though you aren’t the pure soul I thought at first, that you’re not the hunter that Katara thinks you are, either.” You changed your neck position, almost nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “Give me time. Show me you can be someone I should trust.” You heard him nod, and your eyes drifted closed.

When on the edge of falling asleep, sounds change. They’re heard, but not processed, merely accepted as background noise in a world fading away. It was like this, halfway between sleep and wake, when nothing was processed nor even remembered, that you heard Zuko promise.

“I promise I’ll become a man you can let yourself love.”

request for a part 5

edit: part 5 has been multiple times requested it’s all good

-🦌 Roe

1K notes · View notes

royallyprincesslilly · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Rumor Has It {21}*

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Cursing, ANGST, Plot, Fluff, Mildly NSFW, Violence, Blood, Death, Verbal mention of Rape, Potentially Triggering Discussion

Words: 6.2k

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

NOTE: DO NOT COME FOR ME. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Uriah-

You pushed off of him to an upright position, not sure you’d heard him right. “Say what!?”

Chris sat up as well and leaned on the headboard.

“Yeah. Abel, the detective, found that the video was doctored. It was spliced together using so many different audio clips dating back to when Knives Out was announced. She had someone doctor it to make it seem like it was me, or recent and current me.”

You were ready to claw her eyes out. “That bitch!”

Chris sighed. “That’s not it,” he began. He reached for your hand and brought you closer. You swung your leg over his lap and sat on his thighs, giving him your undivided attention.

“Remember the picture of her in the sweater?”

Clenching your jaw, you nodded. “The one from your room?”

He nodded. “You’re right—it was from my room.”

You gaped at him, ready to lunge at him, but you stopped yourself.

“She snuck in, stripped down, and posted it. Abel was able to get security footage from the hotel. She bribed one of the housekeeping staff. They let her in, and it was at the same time I was on call for press. The timestamp shows it. I’m thinking she knew it would set you off and create problems between us.”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying. This was insane. Why would someone go to these lengths?

“Wow.” You rubbed your forehead, trying to wrap your head around everything. Not only were you still grappling with everything that happened since the accident, including things with Christiano, but the babies and Chris’s downward spiral, but now this. “Oh my god.”

“The investigator uncovered a video from the hotel—and so much more.” Chris released a heavy breath then took your hand. “It all points to her, Riah.”

His fingers traced imaginary patterns on my hand and along the length of my fingers.

“And the text messages?” You couldn’t help yourself. Chris looked up from your hand and to your waiting eyes. The look on his face was an inquisitive one. “The ones between you and her about us,” you finished.

There was no look of shock; he just looked resolved, as if he somehow knew that you knew.

“How do you know about that?”

“I did something crazy,” you began before pausing to find the right way to explain.

It only took a few moments to forego any strategic plan and lay it out. So that is what you did. You explained your mission impossible operation with Kizzy and Zora a few weeks ago at Chris’s press junket. You explained being in the elevator to witness Ana’s blatant flirting. You explained, taking her purse and going through her phone to find out how devious she was. By the time you finished, the silence in the room was deafening. Chris hadn’t moved or spoken since you began. The look on his face was so masked and neutral that you couldn’t tell if he was on the brink of an angry outburst or a disappointed one.

Suddenly Chris snorted loudly then laughed obnoxiously, clapping his free hand across his chest. The laugh went on so long to the same caliber that you couldn’t help but join in. So the two of you sat there laughing together for several long minutes. Once both of you were laughed out, you just stared at each other.

“I can’t say that I’m surprised,” Chris started first, continuing to rub your hand. “I knew who I married.”

He sighed and shook his head. That was when you saw the remorse in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about it all, but I didn’t want to hurt you or have you doubt me.”

Chris clenched his jaw then crinkled his brow. “In hindsight, I know it looked really suspicious. There are so many things I see now that I didn’t then. I shouldn’t have even had those text exchanges. It’s not her place to know anything small or not about our marriage. Jesus.” Chris took his hand away then raked it through his hair before locking his hands behind his neck—one of his frustrated ticks. His eyes were dropped to your thighs, and that’s where they remained.

“I’m sorry, Riah.”

His voice sounded clouded, and that was the only indication you needed to know his emotions were getting the better of him.

“I’ve been so stupid. So stupid,” he choked out.

“Baby.” You slid closer to him, grabbing his elbows to pull them down to rest on top of your thighs. “Look at me.”

You raised his chin so he was looking into your eyes. His tears stained his cheeks and welled his eyes. You’d wanted him to see the error of his ways so many times. You’d wished he could see it your way and understand, and now that he did, you should have felt vindicated, but you didn’t. There really were no winners when the family feuds.

Dropping your face into the crook of his neck, you inhaled his scent.

“I’m sorry, dragonfly,” Chris whispered, wrapping his arms around you holding you close. “So sorry.”

“Baby—look at me.”

He pulled back enough for you to peer into his eyes. As you caressed his cheek, you spoke.

“It’s okay. I—you--,” you sighed, then traced your thumb across his bottom lip. “I understand. There has been so much—pain, so much sorries and--.” Again you stopped for a few seconds.

“No more,” you finished.

Chris slowly nodded his head, grasping your meaning. He then kissed your thumb and nuzzled his bearded jaw into your palm. Though you wanted to move on, there was one more burning question, one more thing you had to know. Nibbling your bottom lip, you found your courage.

“Were—were you tempted?”

You couldn't look at him, so you kept your head down.

“What? Tempted? To do what?”

Meeting his eyes, you swallowed, then continued.

“Cheat,” you whispered.

Chris sat up straight, and he cupped your face within his large hands. His eyebrows were crooked with the intense, take me serious look he always got when he was about to say something important.

“Look at me. Never.”

You tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let you.

“Listen and hear me, Uriah, never, ever. I would never. I told you I married you for a reason. I had a plan. Forever and a day, Uriah. You promised me forever and a day, and I won’t stand for anything less. I’m collecting all of it. Forever and a day.”

Fighting the tears, you scoffed. “You were a jackass. When I tell you a woman wants you, don’t doubt me.”

Chris smiled and nodded. “I was. Never again. We don’t be here again. I’m going to be Pence from now on. You must be present at all times, or I’m not alone with any women.”

You busted out laughing, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the heaviness of the last few weeks. It felt almost normal, like the two of you were on your way. Chris kissed you once, then twice before resting his forehead to yours.

“We have to nail her ass to the wall,” you declared, staring into his eyes.

“Oh, definitely. What did you have in mind, Mrs. Evans?”

“You didn’t file the papers?”

Chris scoffed, then rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know who you think I am, but you’re gonna have to try harder than divorce papers to get rid of me, Dragonfly.”

Again you smiled. “So whatever I want, you won’t be the voice of sympathy?”

“Whatever you want, kitten,” Chris replied, kissing the tip of your nose, making your belly flutter in the process.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m so happy that you’re okay, sweetheart,” your mother said as she pulled you into a group hug with your father.

“I’ll be okay, mom.”

Your father cupped your cheek, taking the time to inspect your face. You knew he wasn’t looking for physical harm. He was realizing how close he’d come to losing you, how he’d failed you. You could tell. When Chris had called them to update them, they instantly wanted to hear your voice. When they did, they broke, and that breaking turned to shattered when everything came out.

You’d spent two hours on the phone with them, listening to them apologize and blame themselves for putting so much trust in Christiano. They felt horrible for never suspecting that he would stoop so low. They begged you not to hate them, begged you to forgive them. It was easy to promise them you weren't angry because you understood. You didn’t blame them or hold a grudge for them not doing more. They had no idea who Christiano really was—you didn’t either. The only one who ever saw him for who he was, was Chris.

“I’m so sorry, Uriah. As your father, I should have done more to keep you away from him.”

“Daddy, don’t. There is nothing you could have done. You did the best with what the information you had—you all did,” you assured, looking around at the faces of everyone you loved, both your family and Chris’s.

Lisa approached and pulled you into another hug. You could feel her tears.

“I’m okay, I promise.”

“I am so happy that you are.” Her hand dropped to your bump, and she smiled. “That you all are.”

Just like that, the waterworks started again, and everyone huddled around you, everyone but Chris, who was standing back most likely watching with a cheesy smile on his face. When they released you, your guess was correct. Chris smiled, then winked at you.

“So how are we getting those sons of bitches?”

All eyes snapped to Zora, who looked as if she was ready to rip out a heart and eat it.

“Down girl—Chris has already laid the groundwork,” you said.

“And it was easy, just play into that colossal ego of his,” Chris finished, kissing my temple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Chris-

MSG Love Of My Life: Remember, don’t let him goad you. He’s going to try.

He scoffed; it was an understatement.

MSG: I’m good. He can’t get me to because I have what he doesn’t, and I know something he doesn’t.

MSG Love Of My Life: You do have me. Forever and a day, my love. <Kiss emoji, heart emoji>

MSG: You should have let me go with you. I don’t like you’re alone.

MSG Love Of My Life: I’m not alone. I have my parents, Kizzy, Zora, your sisters, your mom, our lawyers. I am far from alone.

MSG: You know what I mean.

MSG Love Of My Life: I don’t think I could relive it all with you next to me anyway. It’s better this way. I’ll see you soon. Remember what I said. <Kiss>

He sighed and tried to push aside the guilt he felt. He wanted to be with you, holding your hand. You’d gone through too much alone, and all he wanted to do now was protect you.

MSG Scott: Need me to come up?

MSG: Nah, I can handle this.

MSG Scott: Okay.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and stared out over the canyons and LA down below. It was a beautiful sight, one he liked a lot but not better than the changing leaves of Autumn in Massachusetts. He would never choose LA over them. It was, however, a good change of pace, but it staled quickly. Standing here, it was easy to forget the chaos of the last few months. Easy to forget that merely days ago, he’d thought his life was over, and it would never be the same.

“I can’t believe you suggested this. What, you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s cool; I don’t mind helping you with that.”

The sound of his voice was enough to make him want to turn around swinging, then drag him to the edge and kick him off Sparta style. He didn’t deserve to live, not after what he’d done to you. He clenched his jaw and tightened his fist, and slowly released a breath. Once he was sure he had some sort of control over his reflexes, he turned. Christiano looked as smug as ever. He’d never wanted to take a life, but right now, right here, he thought of at least ten ways in under one minute. They all involved pain.

“So, what air is there to clear?”

He clenched his jaw before he spoke.

“She’s still my wife.”

“Ah, ah, ah, according to those divorce papers she sent over, even that is limited time. Face it man; you’ve lost. I’ve won. I always win. I always get what I want, no matter what. It’s hilarious to me that you thought swooping into her life like that and marrying her on a whim would have changed things. Uriah has always been mine. She was always meant to be mine.”

His hatred for the man in front of him was already at toxic levels. He had no idea how it was possible for it to increase. Staring at him and hearing the venom he just spewed did the trick.

“So, this is just a game to you? This is her life—this is our life. All of this is for what?”

“To win what’s rightfully mine. I’m Christiano White. I get what I want when I want it, and that includes women. No one takes what’s mine. No one, and she’s mine!”

The smugness on his face was the most upsetting thing. He didn’t care hearing him profess fake ownership. He didn’t even care that Christiano thought he had so much privilege that he would get away with his insane plane. Even the thought that him being Christiano White meant jack shit. What really got to him was the fact he’d done this to prove some stupid, sick point. He’d played with his life, your life, and the life of his children for the sake of winning. He stepped to Christiano, ready to push his ass off the cliff, but before he touched him, the thought of you and those innocent babies flashed into his mind. There was no way he’d do this to you guys, he thought.

Gathering some calm, he stepped back. Christiano chuckled.

“Thay’s right. Recognize when you’ve lost, and oh, have you lost. Let me tell you how bad you’ve lost. She was in my bed, letting me touch her, kiss her, please her. She shouted my name, over and over. Not yours.”

He scoffed. “You sure? My name’s Chris. Did she say, Christiano?”

The smirk on Christiano’s face slipped, and rage replaced it. It was a small piece of satisfaction, but it was worth it, especially since he knew for a fact you’d called his name—Chris and not the latter. Though your brain didn’t remember him, your subconscious did, your heart did, your soul did. There was no room for anyone else. He nearly laughed in Christiano’s face because it had taken him this long to grasp that fully. There had only ever been you and him.

“You only have yourself to blame. Who would dare cheat on Uriah? Who would think to replace a diamond with a pebble? You’re an idiot,” Christiano jabbed before he laughed out. “Don’t worry, once we’re married, things will be better for her.”

“How do you plan on getting married if we’re still legally married?”

For the second time, the smile Christiano wore slipped. He looked around as if he expected someone to come out.

“For now,” Christiano scoffed, rolling his eyes.

He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you walking up behind Christiano. Catching on, he spun around.

“Babe, what’re—what’re you doing here? I thought we were meeting tonight.”

Christiano approached you with his arms out, but you walked past him to his waiting arms instead. Once he wrapped his arm around your waist, you kissed his lips, then turned to Christiano, who looked confused, angry, and a few other emotions he most likely hadn’t put together yet.

“For always,” you said.

“What the fuck!”

“Surprise,” he said, slipping his hand down to your hip. Christiano’s eyes dropped to his hand before he clenched his jaw. The annoyance from minutes ago was worth it.

“What was the plan, Christiano? It’s bigamy to be married to two people at once. Our marriage would have been null in void. What was the goal!?”

Christiano took a step to you, making him grip your hip tighter, ready to get in between you.

“I’m better than him. I’m richer, I look better, and I’m better in bed. Admit it, Riah. I don’t lose to men like him. I wasn’t done with you,” Christiano confessed with bitterness in his voice.

You pulled from him, taking a step to Christiano. “So you decided to turn me into a pawn! You decided to lie to me, manipulate me and—rape me?!”

“Shut up, I didn’t--,” he began before you cut him off.

“Yes, you did! I was not of sound mind. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t even know who I was. You knew. You fucking knew, and you used that and stole from me. Admit it!”

Sensing things were about to go south, he stepped between the two of you, pulling back to a safe distance.

“That’s right, fuck it! Yes, I did all of that. I’ll admit it. Yes, I manipulated you to get what I wanted. I couldn’t lose to this dick. I couldn’t let you go. I wouldn’t. I did what was necessary. I took what was mine, and I don’t regret it. I’d do it again.”

That was all he could stomach before he turned and decked him with all the force he possessed. Christiano dropped to the dirt and writhed for a few moments before he slowly stood laughing like a lunatic with the blood dripping from his nose.

“You’re insane. You tried to kill my children because I ended things and found better?”

“There is no better than me!”

He spread his arms out, not caring where the blood that spewed from him went. “Uriah, you know you love me. You loved the feel of a real man between your legs. Just tell him.”

Glancing at you, he realized you were crying now.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me. I can’t believe you’d hurt me this way.”

He wrapped his arms around you, hoping to comfort you in some way. Looking back at Christiano, he was in time to see him charging toward him. He quickly moved you out of the way and threw a punch that connected with Christiano’s jaw. Instead of going down, Christiano lunged at him, gripping him around his waist, trying to bring him down to the ground. He almost laughed. Sending his knee into his gut, he spun and put Christiano in a chokehold keeping him there.

It was then a group of police officers came running toward them.

“Look at that. You lost, not just once, but twice and now—a third.”

He wanted to snap his neck, and thinking of everything he’d put them through, he almost did. Two officers ran up to him, both of them taking Christiano by his arms.

“We’ve got it from here.”

Reluctantly he let Christiano go and allowed the law to take the wheel. Going to you, he cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears.

“I’m here.”

You hugged him, and he just held you. There was no need for words.

-That Night-

“I love you.”

Those words were like music to his ears. There was a time he didn’t think he’d ever hear them again. Gently pulling your head back, he peered into your eyes while caressing your cheek. He loved seeing you like this with your hair free, hovered over him, with the moon as your backdrop.

“I love you more,” he whispered.

“Forever and a day?”

He smiled, remembering your promises, and pressed his forehead to yours. “Forever and a day, dragonfly.”

You kissed him softly, taking the time to tease his lips, nibbling his bottom one before burying your face in the crook of his neck as you rocked against him, sending him higher and higher until he felt as if his soul left his body.

“Uriah!”

It felt like he was no longer in his body but instead hovering overhead like a fly watching your bodies entangled together. There was no other sight he loved as much. You rolled off of him and found your place beside him, resting your head on his chest, right over his heart. You both sighed.

“After this is done, let’s go back to Massachusetts full time,” you quietly said after a few minutes.

“What?” he turned to look at you, needing to see if you meant it.

“Do you mean that?”

“Yeah. I never wanted to raise kids in LA, and you know I love Massachusetts. Let’s have these babies in the house you built for us,” you added.

He couldn’t believe his ears. It wasn’t that you’d ever expressed not wanting to live in Massachusetts full time; it was that he knew how much of your career was still in LA. With him, he was spending less and less time here, but you, it seemed it was more and more.

“How is that going to work with your career?”

You rolled slightly onto your side, then trailed your hand across his chest down his stomach to rest nonchalantly atop his manhood. Groaning, he wrapped one of his arms under his head.

“I’m taking a few years off.”

The shock had his junk jumping in your hand, making a wide smile spread across your face. “Wow, talk about talent,” you teased.

He rolled you onto your back and climbed on top of you, nestling himself between your spread thighs.

“Don’t play with me, Mrs. Evans.”

You smiled widely as you fondled him with one hand. Not being strong enough to have this conversation while you did that, he grabbed your hand and pressed it over your head, gripping you at your wrist.

“No fair,” you pouted.

“Say that again.”

You smiled, clearly loving that fact he was hanging by a flimsy piece of thread.

“I said I’m taking a few years off.”

He couldn’t stop his grin. “Really?”

“Yeah. What do you think? Would you want that?”

“You’re kidding. Of course, yes! It would be just the two of us day in, day out. No movie sets, no studio time, no photoshoots.”

“Eh-em, excuse you. You mean just the five of us,” you corrected.

It didn’t take him long to get it. You, him, babies, and Dodger.

“I love you, Mrs. Evans.”

“I love you, Mr. Evans.”

You kissed him once, then twice before your hands roamed down his back to grip his ass, making him moan and chuckle at the same time. He’d missed this and you.

“Hang on, baby; I gotta--,” he began.

“Ah, that after nut pee calls, huh. Fine. Go ahead. I'll just be here, pregnant and horny.”

He snorted and rolled off of you before hurrying to the bathroom.

“Oh, I’m coming back, cause—that sounds like a very pressing situation that needs my undivided attention.”

You giggled as he dipped into the bathroom. He hurried to the toilet and tried his best to aim properly but an erection and peeing straight made for a tricky situation. Once he’d gotten the hang of it and the common sense to curve his body a little, he was good and groaned long and loud as he relieved himself. The silence in the bathroom gave him the time to fully react to the prospect of moving back to Massachusetts full time for the next few years. He couldn’t wait. Life was about to change for the better.

Once finished, he flushed and washed his hands before stepping back into the room. He expected you to be lying on the bed, waiting for him, but the bed was empty. Thinking you might have found your way to the kitchen for a snack, he pulled his pajama pants off the floor and pulled them on before he walked out of the bedroom. He’d recently discovered that after sex, you craved something from the fridge. He walked down the hall leading to the staircase, but before he got there, a chill ran down his spine. It was this chill and almost like a psychic feeling that had him stop.

When he turned, there you stood in your pale pink kimono robe with Christiano behind you. His hand was around your neck, clasping it.

“What the--.” He made a move toward them, but Christiano pulled out a gun and pointed it to your stomach.

“I wouldn’t,” he began before he cocked the weapon. “Or I will pull this trigger, and there goes Evan Jr.”

Terror as he’d never felt before gripped his heart. “You wouldn’t risk her life.”

Christiano shoved the barrel of the gun more forcefully into your stomach, making you whimper loudly.

“Wouldn’t I? what’s the point of keeping her safe now? For her to end up with you? I think the fuck not!” Again he shoved the gun into you.

“Okay, hey, hey, stop. Don’t do this. Please.”

“Please?” Christiano snorted and pulled you more firmly against him. “Are you begging me finally? You’ve always been underneath me. I couldn’t understand why she would choose you over me. I’m better in every category.”

He nodded, with his hands raised.

“You’re right. You’re the better man, the better choice,” he agreed, deciding to play along and say whatever he wanted if it meant Uriah had a chance of getting away from him. He quickly tried to formulate a plan while he used his words to buy himself as much time as possible.

“I know! So why him, Uriah!?”

You remained quiet, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Answer me! You better answer me with the truth, or I swear I’ll pull this trigger.”

“Answer hi, Dragonfly. It’s okay. Forever and a day.”

You scrunched your face and watched fresh heartbreak wash over you. “I—I fell in love with him, Tino. My soul recognized his as my home. It could only ever be him,” you replied. He signaled to you using his eyes and slight movements of his head, and he hoped you understood them.

He watched Christiano squeeze your neck tighter and press the gun more persistently into you, and he said a silent prayer.

“Fine,” Christiano began. He saw the moment when it all changed for him, and his threats no longer were empty words. “If I can’t have you. No one can.”

“Now, Riah!”

You threw your head back, colliding yours with his in a vicious headbutt that sent Christiano staggering backward a few steps and you stumbling before falling to the floor. In the chaos, Christiano dropped the gun allowing him to leap forward for the gun. In seconds Christiano was on him, fighting him for it. He tried to pull it from his clutches while turning it away from him or Uriah, but there was no fury like a man who’d lost everything.

Christiano managed to wrangle the gun from his grasp and pointed it to Uriah. In the blink of an eye, he knew what had to be done—the only thing he could do. Locking eyes with you, he said the only thing that mattered.

“I love you.”

He then dove for Christiano tracking him into the banister railing with enough force that broke it, sending both of them over the edge and down two and a half stories to the hard marble floor beneath. He could hear your piercing scream right before they collided with the floor, but once they made impact, the gun went off, and again Uriah screamed.

“Chris!”

~~~~~~~~~

-Uriah-

It all had happened in such a way that it was in slow motion but sped up. You couldn’t register anything until it was all said and done. You scurried to the banister and looked down. Neither of them moved, and your heart stopped. Gasping, you tried to remind your brain to send the signal for you to breathe. After a few seconds, you coughed while trying to hurry down the stairs. The tears in your eyes made it difficult to see what was in front of you, so you stumbled down the stairs. If it weren’t for your gripping the railing as you descended, you were sure you would have tumbled.

Once down to them, you dropped to your knees beside them and pulled at Chris’s body. He wasn’t moving.

“Oh god, Chris!”

He didn’t respond, and his body felt like dead weight. Your tears flowed more freely as you managed to roll him off. Once you had, you were able to see that it was Christiano who was shot and not Chris. Relief filled you, and you shook him more forcefully.

“Chris! Wake up, please. Please don’t leave me. Chris!”

Suddenly he erupted into a fit of choughs before they died down.

“Why are you always shouting at me, woman!?”

You gasped again. “Oh my god! You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m okay. I think,” he informed while trying to sit up. He then began examining you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

He then gripped his head as he groaned out, but it wasn’t long before he was moving toward you to pull you into his arms, not caring that he was covered in blood.

“Is he—is he dead?”

Chris leaned back to check Christiano’s pulse, then lowered his head. “Very dead.”

You clasped your hands over your mouth. “Oh my god. He—he tried--.”

Chris pulled you into him and hugged you tightly. “Come here. It’s okay.”

Somehow he managed to slide both of you from the body on the floor toward the wall. He held you tightly, then spoke.

“I don’t think I’ll call you crazy again after this.”

It was probably inappropriate, but you snorted then laughed, a laugh he joined in on. As suddenly as the laughter began, it ended.

“They’re crazy.”

“Bat shit,” Chris replied.

Any humor to be found in the situation was gone, and it turned into you crying in his shoulder, going through all the emotions from the entire night. There had been so much pain, so much destruction. You’d come close to losing everything more than once, and the culprit was lying dead on the floor before you. It was overwhelming, but somehow, you felt steeled to the fact that you’d just watched someone die.

You glanced over to Chris at the same moment he looked at you. He wiped the tears from your cheeks then spoke.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He then lowered his lips to your forehead and held you close.

Ten minutes later, the sirens of the police, ambulance, and fire trucks could be heard as they surrounded your property. The officers instantly took yours and Chris’s statements and any evidence lying around to prove what the two of you were professing, including the security footage. The EMS workers quickly covered Christiano’s body with a sheet as they rolled him into a body bag then pushed the gurney out of the house. You barely registered anything. Chris did most of the talking, not leaving one thing out. When they asked you about the events of the night, you stuttered and quickly became frazzled as everything finally caught up to you. That was when the detective Chris hired suggested meeting at the police station to continue, which would allow him to reveal his findings in his investigation.

After a quick change, you were sitting in the passenger side of Chris’s car as he drove you to the precinct. Your mind raced a mile a minute, but your lips remained zipped. The feel of Chris’s hand on your thigh was your tangible evidence that this was reality and not some soap opera plot. When you arrived at the precinct, the detective in charge of the case questioned you from the very beginning to the night's events. You did your best to remain calm and emotionless and were surprised that you didn’t feel the shame you’d felt about the entire situation prior to this night.

When the detective revealed new information divulged to him, from the detective Chris hired, about Christiano and what he’d truly been up to and how deep his plans really went, you could hardly stomach it. He’d secured another property in Russia and planned to bring you there. The way the information was revealed, it seemed like he planned on keeping you captive there. Hearing that, you almost passed out. Chris, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to kill Christiano again.

The questioning took a full hour, and at the end of it, you were exhausted and ready to put this entire thing behind you after dealing with Ana. With Chris’s arm around your waist, you walked out of the detective’s office onto the precinct's open floor. A loud scream brought your attention to several officers pulling Ana through with her hands cuffed behind her back.

“I demand you let me go. Do you know who I am!? I swear to god, I will have your badge, and you’ll never be a fucking cop again!”

“Wow, the mouth on her,” one of the officers teased.

“To think we found her hot in that Bond movie,” another piped up.

“Fuck you!”

You and Chris approached, curious as to what was going on. You hadn’t expected to see her until tomorrow when you and Chris executed the second part of your plan of confronting her while recording it to release it to the world, showing everyone who and what she really was. It would have been a one-two hit that she wouldn’t recover from. Her career would have been over.

“It’s been a big night,” the detective who’d just interviewed you said, standing beside you.

“I don’t understand. What’s going on? Why’s she here?”

“Your detective gave us plenty of information. By the way, impressive man, you should think about keeping him on your payroll. Anyway, we followed his leads, and it led right to her and her assistant, specifically her assistant’s car. This one took her assistant’s car and was the one behind the wheel when she ran into you. The traffic cams show it was an intentional hit.”

You saw red.

“What!”

“She tried to kill you,” Abel, the private detective, added, coming up beside Chris.

“What’s more, there were messages between her and Christiano White.”

Both yours and Chris’s heads spun to him to the police detective this time to find him nodding with a look on his face that said even he hadn’t encountered anything this bizarre before.

“They concocted this whole scheme together, beginning with the pictures of her in that eat shit sweater. This was set up with them. there is even evidence Christiano was poisoning you, Mrs. Evans.”

“Jesus,” Chris hissed.

You remained utterly silent and still letting Abel’s words fully process. It was a lot of information, but it was also vindication that you were in no shape or form crazy.

“Wh—what does all this mean?”

“It means she’s going to face a judge on a slew of charges that are quite serious. I can assure you both; there is no easy way of her getting out of any of this. No amount of money or connections will fix it. Her career is over,” the detective finished.

You both were speechless, and looking at Chris, he was too. You and Chris were led to somewhere you could sit for a few minutes to receive the paperwork for the night’s incident and the new information. While sitting, you used the time to catch your breath and wrap your head around everything. Neither of you could believe all you’d gone through. The more you thought about it, the more your confusion increased. One burning questioned remained. Why?

About ten minutes later, you and Chris were led toward the exit, but you caught sight of Ana to your right. You would have walked on, but the way she glared at you had you changing your mind in seconds. You let go of Chris’s hand and walked over to her.

“I have to know. Why? What was the point!?”

Ana bolted to her feet as if she planned to do something, but the officer behind her grabbed her arm, holding her to ensure she didn’t try anything. You weren’t worried.

“You don’t deserve anything you have. The fame, the popularity, and opportunities you don’t deserve any of it, especially Chris. He was supposed to be mine. That baby was supposed to be mine!”

You could hear the poison in her voice and see the sheer hatred for you shining brightly in her eyes. She truly meant this though she didn’t know one thing about you.

“You’re crazy as fuck. I hope it was worth it.” You reached back for Chris’s hand, knowing he was behind you. Lacing your fingers with his, you showed her all that her efforts had produced, then turned and began walking away.

“You low-grade black bitch!

In your head, you heard blaring sirens. The sound became so loud in a matter of seconds it had somewhat of a mind-altering effect. Chris released your hand as if he knew what was going to happen. You turned back to her and saw red.

“Oh I’ll show you how low grade this black bitch is!”

You ran to her, then tackled her to the floor. Once on top of her, you swung punch after punch, each slamming into her face. You didn’t care where they landed, didn’t care how hard you were hitting her either. There was a lesson she needed to learn, and the only way to learn it was getting her ass beat the right way—the black way. You felt hands trying to pull you off of her, but you were not having it. You held on to her hair, so when they tried to move you, they really helped you bald the bitch.

“See, I never learned to share when I was young! I’m—an—only—child!” With each enunciated word, you emphasized it with a punch. Ana’s screams were loud, but they weren’t louder than those alarms still sounding off in your head. Though she tried to fight back, it was futile, though.

“Learn this bitch! Don’t,” you dropped a punch to her nose. “Touch,” you slapped her with your open hand. “What,” you slapped her again, this time with the back of your hand. “is mine!”

From then, no one else tried to pull you off of her. You suspected it was Chris warning them. You managed to get off a few more punches when you were finally pulled off.

“Let me go!”

“Okay, calm down, Adonis Creed, that’s enough,” Chris shouted, trying to break through to you. You still struggled trying to get back to her, but Chris refused to let you go until you calmed down. You looked at Ana on the floor. She was barely moving, and her face was a bloody mess with several patches of her dark hair sprinkled around her. Satisfaction filled you. Raising your hand, you assured Chris you were good. Slowly he let you go, and you stooped down to her.

“Look at me.”

You waited for her writhing to stop and for her bloody, swollen eyes to land on you.

“Remember my name for the rest of your pathetic life. Remember that I’m that bitch!”

You grabbed her hair and held her head. “Try this shit again; you gonna lose your life.”

With that, you punched her one more time, knocking her clear out. Everyone around the precinct shouted out a collective “ooh.” You stood and walked away as they all cleared your path, most likely thinking you were crazy. Chris came beside you, took your hand, and walked back to the car with you. Once inside, you both sat there, silently processing everything. Five minutes passed in silence until you spoke.

“She did all this over dick, Chris. Dick,” you said in disbelief as you shook your head.

“I mean—my dick is A1.”

Your head spun to him. “Christopher!”

He laughed out loud while holding his hands up in defeat.

“Hey, don’t beat my ass too, I don’t want none,” Chris joked, making you laugh a little.

“Wow, remind me not to piss you off again. I don’t want any of what she got.”

You fake lunged at him with your still bloodied fists. “Don’t start none, won’t be none.”

Both of you erupted with laughter before you embraced, relishing in the feeling of togetherness and your love. It was finally over; you thought as Chris pressed a soft kiss to your neck.

“Let’s get the fuck out of this town,” Chris suggested. You snorted and nodded.

“Let’s go home.”

Knowing where you meant, Chris smiled and kissed you once, then twice.

“Let’s,” he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

@chaneajoyyy @sonjashuterbugjohnson @caramara3 @southerngracela @cyntgefel01 @vannahvannahhh @lorainnebabyy @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @theblulife @kelbabyblue @bugngiz @kikimiyazaki @toniilaney @areubeingserved @chaos-crusader @thinkxlovexloud @cocothewriter @periodtcevans @bellaamor88 @mack-jay @titty-teetee @pananegra @wellthirsted @sup3rn0va13 @nova3312 @hello-therree @valkyriesnymph @squeackygee @niyashell @allmonstersxarehuman @zsuzstyina @peggy-potts @amelatonin @lvlyab @sullyosully @taylorveebee @renesmeeharelds @capslut2014 @ilovehatembj @thelittlemoistcarrot @sarcastic-sunshines @a-dizzle777 @taylorveebee @jesseswartzwelder @90sinspiredgirl @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @choices97 @jd-now-jq @actorinfluence @chrisgalore @rynabarnesrogers @ab-baybay @motivation-idontknowher @lo-cheu @builtalongthewaysi @momobaby227@drsunshine97 @cleothegoldfish

@thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @queenbetter @ilovehatembj @briellableu @zaddysqueen7 @melaninhawtie @simplyyamberr @ashanti-notthesinger @chezdricks @euh-say-what-now @afraiddreamingandloving @ajspencer1892 @wakanda-inspired @chillavesss @theunsweetenedtruth @geeksareunique @aykanna @hanasamara @profilia @ollieveracity @autumn242 @missyperle @forbeautyandlife @kreolemami @songtoyou @designerwriterchic @firedolphin04 @academic-glowup @periodtcevans @nova3312 @naturalthrone22 @squeackygeecapslut2014 @queen-audsalena

@unknownmystery22 @thatcrazymarvelfan @mizcaptainwidow @angrybirdcr @cherrystainedlipsbaby @marvelfansworld @fanfictionaffair @kemkem101 @blowmymbackout @almostpurelysmut @blackgurlkillinit @simply-heaven @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @renfrewscorner @choices97 @phreshouttherunwaaayy @heladoom @alyxkbrl @evemej @queensevansackles @rosey1981 @laketaj24 @munteanhore @minton131 @trillistb @night-of-the-living-shred @chrisevansfanfic @scoop93535 @miss-jackson500 @purplehairgawdess @ollieveracity @maddeningmayhem @what-is-your-plan-today @tantricevans @evermcfearless @richonne4life @dumbchick @toni9 @briellableu @amennariee @rynabarnesrogers-reading @chrissbabybunny @brwnsugababe @queenshikongo3 @sadishdelray @what-is-your-plan-today @islanddgal @reignandrain @liquorlaughslove @thefuckingluxury @surmya1907 @maeleeme @queenoftheworldisdead @coolbakeryprunetoad @naturalthrone22 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @starlite-starbrite @offrostandstarlight @zeedaye @partypoison00 @thejeneralvicinity @littlepreciousangel @doublesidedscoobysnacks

@imthatbitchsworld @soul–notforsale @toni9 @someone-really-bored @venustrap04 @chrisevansdaddycap @kittykatlow @live-laugh-love-ki @asiaaisa77 @melanicia @fistmetonystark @livinglifeformemyselfandi @crowngold @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @lost- ssoull @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @shar74nett @cltex84 @badbitchhtown @petty-bitch-akira @unknownmystery22 @raveviolet @madixii @almosttherebutnot @rainbowkisses31 @smediumsmeatbae @bernie-k @nina1800 @nervousninjatheorist @lo-cheu @creole-mami @acciolove724 @shipatheart @captainchrisstan @ramp-it-up @bforbbgirl @brownskinafro @jhayes6984 @badbo1-evans @msblkfire84 @jovanaprime @poshgirl2 @marvelatthis30 @littlepreciousangel @youremysuperstar @alookintohersoul @cleopatra-knowles @xsweetdellzx @cxmfort @i-just-like-fanfics @storiestoldbyjazz @jennmurawski13 @imthewarmpenguininthemiddle @ak329

@koko-michelle @sophiasotherdaughter @maeleeme @mauvecherie @jbrizzywrites

***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. Please check that you are taggable. I’m sorry.***

#rumor has it fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x black ofc #chris evans x ofc uriah #black fanfiction #angst fanfic

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star--anon · 4 years ago

Text

Stuck

"The fuck?" Wilbur muttered, watching his computer screen lag and crash. If it wasn't so abrupt, he would have gotten mad at all the lost work. As it was, he simply sat there, confused. Had the power tripped?

A quick - and unnecessary - glance at his lamp told Wilbur that the power was still on, which only puzzled him more. After a moment, it registered that his ceiling lights were also on. Feeling somewhat stupid, Wilbur tried to think of other explanations for the abrupt shortage of power in his computer.

And he found it.

A quick peek behind his desk told him all he needed to know. His computer had unplugged itself. And really, it wasn't all the hard to see why.

"It's a fucking jumble of wires back there," Wilbur muttered, getting up from his seat to get a better look. Wires, black, red, blue, green, ran around the hidden area, coiling around one another and tangling into big knots. One small tug could easily unplug several devices.

It was going to take a while to sort out.

Being lazy, Wilbur simply wrote a small sticky note remind to clean up the wires. As of right now, he decided that all he needed to do was to replug the cord to his computer. He would deal with everything else later.

What? He had editing to do! (The realization that he had lost at least three hours of editing was also staring to sink in.)

And it would have worked out just fine! Wilbur would have been able to redo all of his lost work and have his video out by tomorrow!

...Except, it seemed like fate had other ideas.

The electrical socket his computer's cord was supposed to be plugged into was a little further in and lower than Wil had initially expected. As a result, Wilbur had to get on his stomach and scoot his way over. After a few failed attempts and a lot of curses, Wilbur managed to replug his computers. Almost immediately, the fans in his computer began turning and the Microsoft power-on noise sounded above.

As Wilbur tried to scoot his way back out, a sharp tug on his left hand quickly make him stop. He froze, not wanting to knock anything over. These wires were taut. One pull would send whatever those wires were connected to falling down on top of him. With great care, Wilbur tried to untie his hand from the wires.

All he succeeded in doing was tangling his right hand too.

Yeah, there was problem. Phil was most likely out of the house with Tubbo. Wilbur vaguely remembered him telling Tubbo he had found a new beehive. Techno was probably off beating up the dummies behind their house again. That left Tommy, who he knew for a fact was upstairs.

Fuck it, Wilbur eventually decided. His reputation wasn't worth the risk of dying of electrocution.

"Tommy? Tommy, you there? Tommy! Tommy, come quick, I need your help!" Wilbur yelled. He waited. When no response came, he yelled again. And again. And again. And again.

A minute passed. Then two. Then three. Then five.

Still, nobody came.

Just as Wilbur was beginning to fear the nobody was home, he heard small pattering footsteps from outside. His bedroom door creaked open and the gentle footsteps came inside. He let out a sigh of relief. Stuck between the wall the wall and his desk, with nothing but the wires arounds his hands to keep him entertained, Wilbur had began to panic a little. Thankfully, help had finally-

"Pffffttttt," snorted Tommy, slapping a hand over his mouth. "Whahat the shit? Wilbur? What the fuck happened?"

Wilbur flushed, embarrassed. He swung a leg behind him, trying to kick Tommy.

"I come in," Tommy managed to say through his laughter, "annoyed as fuck because I was trying to set up my camera, and all I see is-"

Tommy broke off in loud cackles.

"Shut up, Tommy," Wilbur snapped, glad that the boy couldn't see his red face. "Just help me get out of here!"

Still giggling, Tommy made his way over to Wilbur. Since Wil took up all the space between the desk and the wall, Tommy was forced to scooch under the desk and work through an opening in a portion of the table. Gradually, Tommy helped Wilbur untangle himself from the wires. After making sure that nothing would fall on him, Tommy gave him the go-ahead for Wilbur to make his way out from underneath the desk.

Yet again, it seemed like fate had different ideas.

Because Tommy had to work with Wilbur through the desk, that also meant Wilbur had to work with Tommy through the desk. Although Tommy managed to help get Wilbur's hands free from wires, they were now effectively stuck underneath the desk.

"Are you kidding me right now?" snapped Tommy, irritated. What had began as a hilarious situation turned out to be a frustrating distraction from his camera-fixing.

"No, I am not kidding you right now!" Wilbur snapped back. "Now come here and help."

Working together was not Wilbur and Tommy's strong suit, and it isn't all that hard to see why. Tommy liked to be respected, but the other didn't think he deserved as much respect as he demanded (and he's right). The issue that often occurred was Tommy feeling mistreated by Wilbur.

So, as if Wilbur didn't already have enough complications to deal with, that problem had now officially entered the chat.

"You know, I had to stop fixing my camera, come down here, and help you get out from a few wires, and I don't even get a 'thank you'?"

"I'll thank you when I'm out of here. Now help me, for fuck's sake!"

Tommy glared at Wilbur, and Wilbur glared right back. Tommy sat there, angry.

"I don't need this," Tommy muttered. He sharply poked Wilbur's side. "Help yourself then."

He expected Wilbur to shut up. He expected Wilbur to be very grumpy. He expected Wilbur to apologize and call him back.

What he did not expect was for Wilbur to squeak.

And then Tommy, under the pretense of teaching Wilbur how to be nice, wrecks him. Yeah, I ain't writing that. I mainly do unfinished fics/prompts bc I'm too easily embarrassed to write stuff like that...

>///<

Right, anyway. Once you've written the tkling part that I'm too chicken to write, you can pick it up below.

"T-Tehehechno!" yelped Wilbur, pulling at his wrists. "Phihihil! Sohohohomebohody! H-Hehehelp!"

Wilbur let out an embarrassing, high-pitched squeal as Tommy hit a more sensitive part of his stomach. He tried kicking, but Tommy sat on his legs, effectively pinning them down.

"Aw, Wilbur is asking others for help~" Tommy teased, speeding up his fingers. "Is wittle Wilbur upset? Is wittle Wilbur getting despwerate? Is wittle Wilbur-"

"Shuhuhuhut the fuhuhuck up!" Wilbur demanded through his giggles. Tommy rolled his eyes.

"Some people never learn," he muttered, leaning down. He drew sharp breaths and blew quick, small raspberries all over Wilbur's exposed stomach. Wilbur could do nothing but arch his back and cackle loudly.

"WAHAHAHAIT! I-IHIHIHI'M SOHOHORRY!" Wilbur tried to apologize. "TEHEHECHNO, HEHEHELP!"

"Techno's not home, Wilbur," Tommy said, digging his fingers between Wilbur's ribs. Slowly, making sure to lightly scratch at each rib, Tommy made his way up Wilbur's ribcage, silently counting each rib. As his fingers got higher, so did the volume of Wilbur's laughs.

And his panic. He knew where Tommy was going.

"D-Dohohon't you dahare," Wilbur said, trying to be scary. Tommy placed his hands on Wilbur's underarms, innocently looking up at Wilbur. The older glared at him and Tommy had to struggle to not grin. With Wilbur's bright red face, messy hair, wide smile, and nervous giggles, he didn't look nearly as intimidating as he thought he did.

"I'm gonna do it~" Tommy sang. Wilbur tensed.

"Y-You wouldn't."

"I would."

"I-I'll get you back," Wilbur tried to threaten. Tommy wasn't fazed. All he needed to do was take one look at Wilbur's cherry-red face for any threats to lose their scariness.

"It'd still be worth it."

"D-Dohont you dahahare," Wilbur demanded. "I'm serious Tohommy."

"You know, you really could have avoided this if you were nicer to me."

Wilbur opened his mouth to respond when a new voice came from behind him.

"Who could have what when if which how why where?"

Tommy froze. He quickly retracted his hands and darted away. He scrambled into the corner of the room, warily eyeing the new member.

"T-Technoblade, my friend!" he nervously stuttered. "H-How are you doing? What brings you here today?"

Techno tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I live here, Tommy. And I couldn't help but get curious at Wilbur's laughing and screaming."

"Not my fault!" Wilbur called from his awkward position. Tommy gulped.

"What's going on?" Techno asked Tommy, glancing at Wilbur. "Why is Wilbur like that? Is he stuck? What were you doing? Tickling him?"

Wilbur squeaked at the word, which caught the attention of Techno. Meanwhile, Tommy sheepishly grinned.

"Aha..." Tommy rubbed the back of his neck and quietly explained the entire situation.

Techno stayed quiet the entire time, processing what he had heard. Then, without a word, he walked over to Wilbur. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Tommy trying to slip away.

"Tommy, stay there," he ordered. Tommy immediately stopped moving. Techno squatted down in front of Wilbur. To him, he asked, "You good? Lookin' a little red there."

"I'm fine, yeah," Wilbur muttered. "Can you let me up? I have some revenge I wanna be doing."

"Yeah, yeah, you can do that."

Tommy tensed. Oh, he was gonna get it.

"Just, in a moment."

Wilbur blinked.

"In a moment?" he echoed. "What do you mean?"

Instead of responding, Techno simply prodded his hips.

-🌟

#tag me if you use this!#tickle prompt #Starburst!#🌟#lee!Wilbur #lee!Wilbur Soot #ler!Tommy #ler!Tommyinnit #ler!Techno #ler!Technoblade #Tommy #Tommyinnit #Wilbur #Wilbur Soot #Technoblade #SFW

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ironlime · 4 years ago

Text

60 Years After

So somebody in the tumblrverse posted about their headcannon in which Ned Coats was Sam Vimes' kid having traveled through time. I am a fan of this. It explains a lot. So when I read it back in... April? I then sat down and wrote up this little fanfic thing. And assumed that I could not only get it posted today, but also edit it so that it's not filled with so many of my own headcannons. And is closer to the original material. But L-Space is my job, and it really does do crazy things to time (and space.) On top of that I was really hoping I could post this to that original headcannon post but... I can't find it. So, OP, if you come across this... Well, I'm sorry. I'm more sorry to Sir Terry (GNU), though.

Quick note: my friends and I have found it easier to call Vimes' kid "Wee Sam" than "Young Sam" because "Young Sam" is one of the names (along with Vimesy and Lance Constable Vimes) that Vimes calls his younger self and... yeah. We find it confusing when nerding out about a single series with two different characters called 'Young Sam'. So we Feegle it up. Even though I wouldn't be surprised if 'Wee Sam' is actually a bit taller than his dad.

~ ~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~

“What happened just then, Sarge? You blurred.” Wee Sam said, while he thought Oh so that’s what that looks like.

“You only get one question, Ned,” The man who would be his father looked a little seasick, and Wee Sam knew exactly how he felt. “Now, let’s show Snapcase where the line’s drawn, shall we? Let’s finish it--”

To the majority of people there that day, Sergeant-At-Arms John Keel stood, turned towards the enemy, and charged. To two people, Commander Sam Vimes ran towards Carcer, ready to drag him kicking and screaming into the past. Or the future. Depending on who you asked.

That was what gave Wee Sam his frame of reference, actually. He remembered hearing stories about Carcer, about how his dad had arrested the bastard the day Wee Sam was born. But was this actually May 25th for his dad? Was this weeks before the arrest? Hours? He couldn’t ask. Not yet.

“Glad to see you’ve joined us and are getting along with the Sarge, Coats.” Fred Colon said, touching him on the shoulder as they ran towards the fight.

“Yeah, Fred.” Oh, Fred. Fred Colon had died a few years ago, happy and surrounded by great-grandchildren. But here and now he was young and actually capable of running. And he was running towards the fray.

Sweeper had told Wee Sam to stay away from the center of the fight, and to try not to actually kill anybody, so he stayed on the edge near the unconscious Lance-Constable Sam Vimes who had been hidden by his older, more cynical self. Three men in a battle with the same name, and two of them were the same person. Good thing Wee Sam was the only one who had to really keep track of which of them was where. He certainly didn’t trust anybody else to.

So he fought, in a very curbed way, knocking his adversaries unconscious when he could and doing his best not to step on Nobby Nobbs, who was doing his best to very slowly inch away from the battle while simultaneously pretending to be a corpse. Over by the Watch House, Reg Shoe was doing a much better impersonation of a corpse, seeing as how he was one, but in a couple of hours he’d discover that it just didn’t work for him.

“You’re nicked, my ol’ chum.” It was probably because he had been listening for it, but his father’s whisper carried. Nobody else seemed to hear it, and nobody but Wee Sam turned in time to see the two men vanish. In the same instant, a single body appeared on the ground near where they had been. So, now that he had seen that through, there was one more…

A dark grey-green shadow passed by his shoulder, and his mind registered Uncle Havelock before adding the word Young.

Havelock Vetinari ran into the fight, cutting down Carcer’s men much more brazenly than the Assassin's Guild would like, a lilac bud between his teeth. Even in Wee Sam’s time, when Vetinari’s wardrobe consisted entirely of black and everything he did was in moderation, the Patrician indulged in a little drama on a regular basis.

He chose to have Commander Sam Vimes in his life, after all.

There was a sound to Wee Sam’s left, which he recognized though his mind didn’t associate any words with it. It was a sound any human would recognize, even those who first approached the Delta where the Ankh River met the Circle sea thousands of years ago. If Wee Sam had to find Morporkain words for it, and as a Vimes he did like to use his vocabulary, they were Confused, followed by Hurt followed by… wait for it… there it was. Anger.

Wee Sam could make that noise, though he rarely did. His father’s upbringing, on the other hand, had been considerably less balanced. The kid who was the source of the sound ran into the center of the fight, and Wee Sam deftly stepped out of his way while pushing an adversary in his way. The boy chopped down the Unmentionable with one graceful movement, and Wee Sam felt that he could safely say that he hadn’t been the one to kill the bastard. And nobody had been so foolish as to tell him to prevent his father from killing anybody.

Vetinari didn’t pause, but he did turn to look at this vengeful newcomer. Vetinari hadn’t been there when young Sam Vimes participated in the first part of the battle, and Wee Sam recognized the young assassin’s look of interest.

Tell me, Uncle Havelock, will you recognize him in 15 years? Or will you need to get him well and truly angry to realize you’ve found him?

Wee Sam knew this wasn’t the first time Havelock Vetinari saw Sam Vimes, but this was probably the first time he saw the potential. That he was more than just That Kid Who Follows Keel Everywhere. I bet you didn’t actually expect him to be so damned smart. His father still didn’t think of himself as intelligent. It was infuriating, especially when he and his father were having a disagreement. A drawn out, decade-long, disagreement.

Young Sam Vimes sent a lot of the Unmentionables running, and Wee Sam cut down any of them which could be seen as ‘coming towards him with a drawn weapon’. Since they were escaping a fight, that was anyone who came within reach not wearing a lilac.

Time travel really can get to a man. He thought, feeling a little cold. There would be no arrests here, just death and fleeing and at the end of the day Sam Vimes, Havelock Vetinari, Fred Colon, Gaskin, and, less literally, Nobby Nobbs and Reg Shoe would all be left standing. That was all that mattered.

He saw Vetinari turn away from young Sam Vimes, who then spun, and for the briefest moment they had their backs to each other, and Wee Sam wished he had his paints. It was a gods awful place to paint, there was a reason battles were always ‘immortalized’ after the fact, but the color and everything was just perfect--

And then the color faded.

“You should have fallen by now.” Sweeper observed from behind him.

“I wanted to see them fight together.” Wee Sam admitted, not turning. He had a notebook on him, and a pencil, but he knew that even with Time paused he didn’t really have it. Not to sit down and do a proper preliminary sketch. He was just going to have to remember.

Vetinari had a stiletto, an assassin’s weapon used to kill up-close. Young Sam Vimes hadn’t learned to dual-wield yet, but he had good instincts for the sword. Wait until you discover the axe.

Sweeper sighed. “Fine, and now you’ve seen it. I’m going to put the time back on and you had better be prepared to drop.”

“Yes yes alright.” Wee Sam shifted slightly, so he could seriously inconvenience the man who he was blocking before he dropped.

“Oh and stop killing people.”

“I’m a Vimes. You knew that when you hired me.”

“Indeed.” Sweeper said, and it took Wee Sam a moment to realize it was an attempt at a Vetinari impression. Before Wee Sam could reply, the color came back, and his adversary frowned in confusion.

“Oi, you blurred!” The man cried.

“This just isn’t your day.” Wee Sam gave the man a wound which might heal, if somebody tended to it within the next 10 minutes, and then fell over in a needlessly complicated way, specifically so he wouldn’t hit Nobby Nobbs.

And when he landed, the boy was looking right at him, frowning. Damn, Nobby was always the brains of Colon & Nobbs.

“You ain’t injured.” The boy hissed at him.

“Try to pick my pockets and you’ll regret it.” Wee Sam whispered back. Of course he wouldn’t dream of hurting Nobby, but the kid didn’t know that. Besides, picking the contents of his pockets back would be a relaxing way to end the day.

Nobby was still frowning at him. “You got eyes like the Sarge...”

“Nobby, get out of here before you get stepped on.” Wee Sam growled in his best imitation of his father, the Sergeant, within the past three days. The kid’s eyes went wide, and he took off running. Wee Sam glanced over to where Vimes and Vetinari were taking care of the last of Carcer’s men, and the color faded once more.

“I hope you are pleased with yourself.” Sweeper said, which Wee Sam took to mean he could stand up and dust himself off.

“Young Vimes and Vetinari live to grow up and become two of the most powerful men in Ankh-Morpork history, Carcer went back to his time more or less accompanied by my my dad so the one can be arrested by the other, your rogue ‘Time Vigilantes’ have been sorted out, oh and I don’t cease to exist either. My work here is d--” He stopped, and watched as Q and some other Technical Monks lay down a man about the same age, size and coloring as Wee Sam. “Wait, so there really was a Ned Coats?”

Sweeper had walked off without him, and Wee Sam jogged to catch up. The old monk didn’t turn to look at him when they were side-by-side, but he did start talking. “Of course there was. He was also from Psudopolis and knew the real Keel.”

“How’d he die?”

“The Agony Aunts, on his first day here. He was the real reason the real Keel accepted a job in Ankh-Morpork. The real Ned Coats was not a good man.”

“Keel... left his home to track down a criminal…” Wee Sam slowed. “That’s what my dad did! As Keel! Only, it was Carcer he had to catch.”

“Time likes continuity.” Sweeper nodded, and thanked Wee Sam quietly for holding the door open as they entered the monastery. Once in the building, color returned, with motion and sounds and smells. They were back in the Present.

The walk through the building was in relative silence, the rumbling of the procrastinators keeping it from ever becoming truly quiet here. Wee Sam could sleep almost anywhere, but the rumbling reminded him of the steam engines back home and Susan’s offer to help him find a job in Sto Lat ‘if he really couldn’t stay in Ankh-Morpork’.

Not long after his parents first met his dad had gotten fired for a couple of days, and his mom had offered to get him a job working for Susan’s parents. Susan had been young then, and sometimes he wondered what kind of person she would have grown up to be with his dad as part of her household staff.

Of course, with his parents living in two different cities, he would have never been born.

His mother would have never left Ankh-Morpork.

Then again, his father had chosen not to leave. He had stayed on the case. He… sorted it out, more or less. He kept Vetinari from getting killed. Had he done that during the battle? Young Sam and Vetinari had been facing opposite directions, had Vimesy blocked any blows aimed at the future patrician?

There was the crunch of stones under his feet, and Wee Sam consciously acknowledged they had arrived at the Garden of Inner-City Tranquility. His eyes swept the space, falling on and acknowledging the Cigarette Pack of Air, the Cat Doings of Disharmony, the Sonkie of Organic Harmony, the Cabbage Stalks of Dim Comprehension, the Discarded Fish-And-Chip Wrapper of Infinity, the Beer Bottle of Pissing Off Sweeper, and….

“The Cigar of Capriciousness is still here.” Wee Sam said, stopping between the door and the bench Sweeper always went to. He tilted his head slightly. “Or… Another cigar. Same brand, same style, smoked the same amount, probably by the same man, at the same angle... but it’s wrapped just a little differently.”

“Is it? I’ve stopped noticing.”

“You haven’t noticed the cigar that’s been smouldering here for the past month?” Wee Sam turned to Sweeper in disbelief. “I understand not paying attention to the condoms and cat doings, but time passes in here!”

Sweeper shrugged. “There is always a cigar. Even if we get rid of it, a new one shows up. If the new one lands closer to the wall, the garden always pushes it to the center.”

“Always? Since, what, the dawn of time?”

“Oh no. Since the day you were born. Or thirty years before. It’s hard to say.” Sweeper was looking at him evenly, and Wee Sam suddenly realized his reaction was being gauged.

“My dad. But…” Wee Sam looked at the cigar. “He doesn’t smoke them anymore.”

“He does. On special occasions.”

“Like what?”

“Your birthday. And when he pays certain visits.”

“He talked you into not keeping me on?” His gaze moved swiftly from the old man to the cigar, and with purpose he stalked into the middle of the garden and brought his foot back, prepared to give the thing a swift kick.

“You did that just fine without his help.” Sweeper’s voice was quiet, but it froze Wee Sam where he stood. “Corporal, we both know you don’t want to do this.”

“The mission is over. Coats is dead. I’m not a corporal anymore.” His foot fell heavily, not coming into contact with the cigar but still sending a spray of stones ahead of them. He scowled as they came sliding back towards him, settling where they had been around his foot. “This job is the closest I’ve ever gotten to what I was made to do.”

“I realize that. I’m sorry.”

There was some silence as the last of the stones slid into place. The procrastinators here were small, used only for the bathrooms in the far right corner, even though the city’s sewer pipe system now meant that they were just inconveniencing themselves in exchange for saving very little money. Wee Sam had done the math.

“Did you tell Susan?” Wee Sam didn’t want to be the one to tell her, but he also didn’t want anybody else to explain that he had squandered this opportunity.

“No. That is your problem, my boy.”

“Good.” Wee Sam squatted down, getting a closer look at his father’s cigar. The smell brought him back to his childhood, and it was comforting if not at all healthy. His mother had never allowed them in the house, but his father smoked them all the time outside and in his office, so the scent clung to his uniform like… Well like Wee Sam had back then. “Please don’t hold… me... against her. She was just looking out for me. She does that. Wish I knew why.”

“She is aware of your potential.” Sweeper said, and Wee Sam was so surprised he looked over his shoulder at the old man. “You’re good at investigating and putting the pieces together. And, some day, you will once again make a very good cop.”

“Someplace other than Ankh-Morpork.” Wee Sam grunted, but the old man shrugged, and he asked, hopefully “In Ankh-Morpork but in the future?”

“That is not for me to say.”

“No, it’s for my father to say.” He glared at the cigar, and then pushed himself to a standing position.

“You know, I didn’t just take you on because Susan asked and there happened to be another Vimes-shaped opening.” Sweeper said as Wee Sam turned towards the door.

“No?”

“I wanted to get to know the man the Theives Guild deemed ‘too dangerous’ for membership.” Sweeper sounded amused, and Wee Sam turned to look at him.

“I keep killing people. Assassin's school graduate, and all.” Wee Sam reminded him, but Sweeper waved the comment away.

“We both know neither of those things are relevant to today’s theive’s guild.” Sweeper shook his head. “Your father is afraid of you becoming him; and, well, so is everyone else. Vimeses walk in and take control. Especially under Vetinari’s influence.”

“And how do you know what my father is afraid of?” Wee Sam asked, narrowing his eyes. He was choosing to ignore the comment about Vetinari’s influence because it was true. After 300 years of cops and / or drunks it took Havelock Vetinari telling his father ‘not’ to investigate three deaths to bring his family name back to the list of the city’s gentry.

“You should ask him.” Sweeper did not ignore the narrowed eyes, but he did meet them evenly. “What he’s afraid of.”

Wee Sam turned towards the door, intending to stalk out, then thought better of it and spun so he was completely facing the old man. “You know what? I think I will.”

Then he ran, took a leap to place one foot on the bench beside Sweeper and jumped so his hands easily grasped the top of the wall. His own momentum brought him sideways, and he hurtled over the top. There was an alley on the other side, and he landed lightly. He was exactly where he expected to be, of course, and took off at a run towards the Cemetery of Small Gods.

And slowed to a walk before he reached the gates. It would not do for him to be out of breath when he arrived at the graves.

Twilight was falling, so his dad would be there, but so would Uncle Havelock and maybe Reg Shoe. Wee Sam was less concerned about how Reg saw him, especially now that he had seen Reg alive, but as far as his family was concerned he wanted to take steps towards appearing dignified. Even though they had known him his whole life, and knew better.

Sure enough, he passed Reg first. The Zombie was carrying a long-handled shovel over his left shoulder, and nodded in acknowledgement. Wee Sam managed to nod back before they passed each other.

He had expected Reg to recognize him. Reg had never noticed him behind the barricade, his father never noticed him behind the barricade, but Wee Sam had been playing Ned Coats for a full month before Sam Vimes had shown up as John Keel. Maybe Reg had never noticed that his father was Keel? How did Zombie memories work, anyway? Their brains certainly weren’t making new pathways… Did vampyre brains make new pathways?

This train of thought kept him pretty well occupied, along with the question of how he could politely go about getting some answers, when he noticed Uncle Havelock and his ‘cane’ striding silently towards him. A simple nod wouldn’t do.

“Good evening, Uncle Havelock.” Wee Sam called, since his mother had drummed into his head that you always greeted your superiors first. Admittedly, this sometimes meant that he approached his uncle with a question about what he would call the color of the sunset above a specific building at that exact moment, or if there was a poison which exploded in a particularly satisfactory fashion, but the patrician never complained. Nor did he complain if Wee Sam wandered in his office and started talking about alternative methods for coding clax messages or an unusual bird he had noticed riding the thermals above the University. And, thank gods, Havelock Vetinari knew that a formal greeting from Wee Sam Vimes meant that he didn’t want to talk.

“Happy Birthday, Wee Sam.” His uncle replied, “I trust you’ll be on time for dinner?”

Oh. That was a reminder. And a warning. “Thank you. Yes, we won’t be long.”

“Good. See you then.” The Patrician nodded, and then passed him.

“Yes.” Wee Sam muttered, and then reached for his pocket watch. When he pulled it out, he saw the time was all wrong and swore quietly. Well, from the graves he would be able to see the Tower of Art, and set his watch to the present. The battle of the lilac boys had been in the mid-morning, and it was most definitely not a quarter to noon.

John Keel’s grave marker was wood, and though it had been replaced often it had never been strong enough to support the weight of an average-sized man. Reg’s, on the other hand, was granite, and he apparently didn’t mind that Commander Sam Vimes leaned against it more and more every year.

Wee Sam didn’t make any noise, he never made any noise, but he could never sneak around his father. Commander Sam Vimes turned his head ever so slightly, and Wee Sam tooka good look at him.

Oh gods, he was so old. When had that happened? True, the last time he had seen his father he must have been about 50, but before that Wee Sam had spent three decades watching his father age and yet… It had never struck him so hard. He never could quite reconcile his memories of young Sam Vimes, that kid who had joined The Watch for three square meals a day and a little extra cash for his family. But he hadn’t thought his father had changed so much.

The old man looked him up and down. “How’d the battle go? After I left?”

Wee Sam stopped abruptly, and looked down at his outfit. He had forgotten to change into the clothes he had left at the monastery. This outfit was a uniform the Monks had given him, so he wouldn’t have the problems ‘accidental’ time travelers experienced with their clothes and meals and things staying in the time they came from. He even still had his lilac, somehow, even though that had come from the past.

“Don’t you remember?” You kicked ass.

His father shook his head. “I remember the original timeline, when Keel died at the barricade. I was pretty sure Coats wasn’t there.”

“Yeah, I don’t think he was, either.”

“I guess Vetinari showed up?” His father smirked. “Had a lilac in his teeth and everything?”

“I thought you didn’t remember it.” Wee Sam frowned.

“I don’t, but he tells me about it sometimes. I think he’s waiting for me to remember, or maybe now he’s wondering why I don’t.”

“Because time travel is a mess.” Wee Sam turned away from his father and looked across the city. He could see his family’s house from here.

“So Sweeper explained it to you?” The interest in his voice was practically tactile.

“No, but I had to run around for a month foiling somebody who had been sent to kill Havelock Vetinari. And it gave me time to wonder.”

“Why it was different the first time around?”

Wee Sam shook his head. “Would I have survived being born if you didn’t go back and meet Lawn?”

There was absolute silence between them, until Commander Sam Vimes quietly swore.

“Sweeper told me you have to think of things as one event in front of another, which is fine, except if you hadn’t gone back in time you wouldn’t have known Lawn was competent. You had heard of him, sure, but he would have never crossed your mind.”

“So we owe your existence to the damn time monks?” There was an angry edge to his father’s voice, but Wee Sam already knew his father was protective as hell. That was how he had gotten into this mess. Sort of.

“No. As far as I can tell, we owe it to some modern young idiots who thought they could go back and kill Vetinari. Time tries to fix things, and so you were sent back in time, to meet Lawn and Carcer went with you and killed Keel so there was a place for you to be and when you were done my life got saved and the monks were able to send me back to save Vetinari’s life and… Time is what it should be. Go us.” There was something about owing his life to terrorists that made him feel sarcastic.

“For all we know Vetinari or Rosie Palm might have recommended Lawn.” His father pointed out, which wasn’t a bad alternative. But it wasn’t what had happened, and there wasn’t really anybody they could ask. At least, nobody who they could ask who would give them a meaningful answer. They both knew Vetinari was a capable doctor, but apparently neither of them could imagine Vetinari getting involved in a problematic birth when there were other competent people around to do it.

More silence. Wee Sam noticed the time on the Tower of Art, and pulled his watch back out. If they were going to avoid talking about the massive argument they had that morning, he may as well take the time to re-set his watch.

“There was the sound of dice.” His father said so quietly that it didn’t initially register.

“Hm?” Wee Sam pushed the pin in, and watched with satisfaction as his watch and the tower struck the time at the exact same minute.

“Before the Library got struck by lightning. There was the sound of dice. Were the people who wanted to kill Havelock associated with a specific god?”

“I… Don’t know. They didn’t say anything about one.” He shut the watch, and shoved it in his pocket. ‘Havelock’ meant his dad was worried. “But there was a thunderstorm, right? Was the sound of dice rolling at the exact moment as the thunder?’

“Yes.”

“Io!” They both said it at the same moment, and Wee Sam felt his heart fall to his stomach. The self-proclaimed King of the Gods had been trying to subjugate their family for a long time. The only reason he had eased up lately was because Wee Sam had trained with the witches in Lancre. And so, to a lesser extent, had his father. It made them harder targets. But Io was still The Thunder God because he had murdered all the others. And then there was the question of who he would be forced to answer to. And how. Neither of the Vimes men had an axe sharp enough for that.

“Damn, why didn’t I realize that?” His father asked the night at large.

“The gods are always playing games. And besides, you had no reason to think Io was responsible for… Well he’s probably not responsible for the Dragon Incident, at least. Or the Goblin Incident.”

“Yeah, but we’ve been operating under the assumption that he was involved in that Dam Slam.” He was rubbing his thumb thoughtfully over the inside of his left wrist, where the Mark of the Summoning Dark had been. When Wee Sam was 8 it had changed, to a symbol generally called the Guarding Dark by anyone who cared to reference it. His father never talked about either Mark, but Wee Sam didn’t blame him. The Marks were indicative of 7 year period which did a number on his view of magic, and his identity.

Speaking of.

“I haven’t told Susan yet, but the monks kicked me out.” He tapped his toe against the grass, bringing it down as softly as he could so it wouldn’t damage the grass. Leggy would be so mad if he damaged his precious ‘terf’.

“Do you want to be a Monk?” His father asked quietly.

“No, I want to be a Watchman.” He whispered. Today was his 30th birthday, though technically he was a month older than that. He felt so much older than that. “But you’re apparently so terrified of me getting myself hurt that you’ve been doing Every Damned Thing you can think of to get between me and that and so I went ahead and tried to join almost any guild in the city and quite a few refused me and I’ve been kicked out of Each. And. Every. One. which would take me and now the only thing I can think of is taking Susan up on her offer to put in a good word for me with the Sto Lat Watch unless you’re going to step in and mess that up too and I wish you would knock it the hells off because as much as I love mum and her dragons I cannot spend the rest of my life working at the damn dragon sanctuary so--”

“Corporal.” His father’s voice was conversational, and somebody who had spent less time listening for the Commander’s voice probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“I’m not finished! Will you--” Wee Sam stopped abruptly. “Is that why you made me a Corporal? You couldn’t have recognized me. I hadn’t been born yet!”

“I recognized potential. And I was right, though you didn’t have as much control as I originally thought. Was all that sparring really necessary?”

“You’ve been standing between me and what I’ve been made to do!”

“And how would 50 year old me have known that?”

“It was easier to fight… him… than you.” Wee Sam grumbled, then realized he was starting to dig up the sod with his toe. Feeling bad about the grass, he brought his toe down in the other direction, to flatten it back down.

“Easier? I kicked your ass. I’d probably have a harder time of it now.”

“I never wondered if I should hold back.” Wee Sam admitted.

“Ah.” The 80 year old nodded. “I know that feeling. I’ve often wondered what it would be like if Vetinari and I had a proper fight when we were young.”

“You could sell tickets and solve all the city’s financial problems.” Wee Sam shifted his gaze to his father. “Actually you probably still could--”

“No. Your mother would have a conniption.”

“Oh right. Yeah, she would. Shame.”

“Do I want to know who you think would win?”

“No.”

“Your faith in me is staggering.”

“Well I figure either it would be a draw or he’d kick your--”

“Yes I understood your answer to my question, thank you.” But he was smiling ever so slightly.

And then the city’s clocks started chiming 9 in the evening. His father pushed himself slowly to his feet, and Wee Sam offered his arm. Cheery had offered to get his father an axe to use as a cane, but Commander Vimes would not hear of it. He did touch Wee Sam’s arm briefly, but once he was standing straight he let go, and the pair of them headed towards the exit.

They didn’t bother to try talking until the clocks had stopped, about five minutes after Wee Sam’s watch struck the hour.

“Did those people who tried to kill young Vetinari have any friends who stayed in our time?”

“I believe so.” They were walking slowly, and Wee Sam waited a full block before he added. “You want me to turn all my information over to anyone in particular?”

“I’m not afraid of you getting hurt.” It didn’t seem like a related response, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t. “I mean, of course I am, but that’s not why I’ve been saying no.”

“Really?”

“I don't want people treating you like a target for their hate for me. If you could join the way Carrot or Angua or Cheery did, that would be fine. But it’s gotten so big since they joined up.”

“Ah.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“I don’t think it would be any better if you joined anywhere else within the Clacks network.”

“Which is pretty much the whole world at this point.”

“And there’s all this scrying now.”

“Which doesn’t need towers.”

His father glared at him, but didn’t tell him to knock it off. “So I suspect your joining a Watch anywhere would ultimately be just as risky.”

“Which is your reasoning for why I shouldn’t bother with Sto Lat.”

“No, my reasoning for why you shouldn’t bother with Sto Lat is that we pay better and have the best medical benefits on the Sto Plains.”

Wee Sam stopped abruptly. “What.”

“You survived the Watch I started out in. As far as I’m concerned, you can handle today’s watch.” The old man stopped and looked back at him. “You’re going to be the oldest cadet though. Because I’m not going to let you jump straight to Corporal. We’re not at war.”

“Right. Yeah. That’s fine.”

“We’re going to be late if you don’t get moving.”

“Right.” Wee Sam managed to keep himself from skipping, so the pent up energy became a jog to his father’s side. They walked in silence, Wee Sam’s mind racing as he wondered if there was some way for him to accidentally mess this up.

“You should give your mother two week’s notice though. It’s only fair.”

“You didn’t run this by her first?” Wee Sam turned to him, shocked.

“Oh we’ve been talking about this for years.” The unspoken word ‘decades’ hung in the air between them. “Her, Vetinari, Carrot, Angua, Cheery--”

“Cheery?”

“She and Igor think you should be in forensics. I mean, it’s your choice of course-- after you pass the tests.”

“Forensics would be great.” He agreed, and thought about how fun it could be to put his Medical and Alchemical and Assassin training to something useful for once. Which reminded him “You know, there is a smouldering cigar in the center of The Garden of Inner City Tranquility at the Monastery.”

“Yeah, it hit me after you left. I had called you ‘sunshine’ during our fight, and Vetinari basically asked how you were handling turning 30, and seeing him standing there with the lilac pinned to his shirt it hit me.” He paused for a moment. “He wore it in the original timeline too, you know. I wish I had asked, but we didn’t get along as well then.”

Wee Sam felt his mouth tug into a half-smile. For his father and the patrician, ‘getting along as well’ involved an increased number of arguments. Also, he remembered ‘Keel’ using that ironic term of endearment during their spar. “You realized I was Ned Coats.”

“So I… walked as fast as I could… to the Monastery and… knocked on the damned door… And threatened to make one hell of a scene if Sweeper didn’t let me in.”

“So of course he did.”

“Of course.”

“And he took you to the garden. And… you told him what you worked out?”

“Actually I just told him that if anything happened to you I was holding him personally responsible. I knew Ned Coats died. I just didn’t know if he died the way John Keel died. I hadn’t stayed long enough to find out.”

“And what did he say?”

“He asked if my holding him responsible was more or less lethal than Susan Sto Helit holding him responsible.”

Wee Sam laughed. “Sweeper hasn’t met mum.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” His father chuckled quietly. “Anyway, Susan will be at dinner so you can tell her all about how the monks kicked you out with an audience. Your mother will find it interesting, I’m sure.”

“Does mum know about you going back...”

“Oh yes. Vetinari can’t keep a secret from her.” And neither could her husband.

“Will there be anybody at the dinner who doesn’t know?”

“Hm, no. I don’t think so. You were the only one who wasn’t in a position to make conversation then, and while Susan wasn’t involved in my adventure as far as I can tell…”

“But with Susan who knows. In any case, I think I’ll wait until we can get some privacy.”

“Suit yourself, but be warned. Everyone knows I told you I was ok with you joining the Watch. They’ll make a big deal about it. You know how they are.”

Wee Sam looked up at the big, brightly-lit, house as they waited for his dad to fully get his breath back. “I’ll try to be strong.”

Commander Sam Vimes snorted. Wee Sam opened the door, held it while his father entered the house, and followed right behind him.

#the glorious 25th of may #night watch #discworld #sam vimes #gnu terry pratchett #fanfiction #john keel #terry pratchett #writing

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scarletjedi · 4 years ago

Text

untitled Untamed time travel au but make it Mingcheng PART 2A

@piyo-13

Part 1: The Setup

Part 2A: GUSU REVISITED (part 1)

EDIT: Part 2B now up!

y'all...I tried to do one part, but this notefic is quickly becoming fic, and I need to keep it small enough to fit on tumblr, lol. The second half of this should be up in the next day or two!

Okay, the next day they arrive in Gusu, have the run in with Zixuan, which....almost goes the same? Zixuan still buys out the inn, but WWX saw this dude, who made Yanli happy, die (and while JC says it wasn’t him, he still feels that guilt) and JC looks at him and sees Jin Ling’s father, and they just... leave. Do not engage. Perhaps with a look at each other like - we need him to see her for herself, but we don’t want to put her through the pain of losing him.

...okay, JC can’t leave without saying something along the lines of “we’re in Gusu to learn, but also to form alliances. Open your damn eyes, and you might actually make a friend” - Zixuan is shook, but Mianmian looks at JC assessingly. I am here for “isolated and therefore socially awkward Zixuan” and I think it’d be hilarious if he takes this as a sign that JC wants to be friends. So, he will kind of randomly show up where JC is, like a cat trying to signal that they’re friends by mirroring you? Luckily, JC speaks “stray animal” and eventually figures out that Zixuan isn’t trying to spy on him but trying to make friends. It eventually leads to a conversation where JC turns to him and just asks “Why don’t you like my sister?” ...but i’ll get to that.

So, they leave, and this time they double check that WWX has the invitation. He does, but they’re still delayed just a bit going up the mountain, so when they reach the top, Lan Wangji is waiting.

The party stops when they see him, mostly because it looks like he’s barring entry, but JC sees the way LWJ looks at WWX and *knows* that somehow, LWJ is back too.

Now, in The Untamed canon (which we’re in) I fully believe that WWX was in love with (and knew it) LWJ before he died, but either felt that his love was not returned, or that LWJ’s love would end if he knew, the time was never right, etc - so, he’s looking at this like and opportunity to present the side of himself that he thinks LWJ wants.

Meanwhile LWJ is like “THERE IS MY GREMLIN ALIVE AND WELL. THIS TIME I WILL LOVE HIM AND STAND WITH HIM NO MATTER WHAT.”

But when JC announces themselves and WWX pulls out the invitation, LWJ says “Wei Ying” in that WAY of his and WWX freezes because a) he realizes that LWJ is also back b) this doesn’t fit into his plan and c) stall. So he does that awkward laugh, flicking his nose, like “Ahaha, Lan Zhan. It’s me.”

And LWJ *SMILES* “It is good to see Wei Ying.”

And WWX *melts* because he is weak, and JC is like “kill me now” (JYL is confused but thinks its sweet) and everyone else is just *confused*.

Not taking his eyes off WWX, LWJ gestures for Yunmeng Jiang to follow him, and leads them (well, WWX and by proxy everyone else) to the student dorms where they will be staying. (WWX walks next to LWJ, and there is something about the way they fit together that makes JC *feel things* all over again, because here was one more thing WWX lost because of *him* and—

When they arrive at the dorms, the other disciples and Yanli all retire, but JC stays because if LWJ is back then they need to talk before JC leaves those two to “count each others eyelashes or whatever they do when they’re alone together” and the absolute bitchy-ass angry *look* that LWJ sends him has JC standing taller and WWX stepping between them.

“Ayia, Lan Zhan, there’s no need for that. Jiang Cheng and I talked it out. We’re good.”

Lan Zhan looks over at WWX, softening for a moment, before bringing the heat back for JC. “He killed you.”

“You-!” JC clenches his fist, and is thrown because there *aren’t* sparks because Zidian is on his *mother’s* wrist, and it’s enough to make him settle, enough for WWX to step in again and say:

“That fall wouldn’t have killed me if— If I hadn’t lied to him, then Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have had every reason to believe I would survive that fall.”

*That* causes a reaction, a widening of his eyes that would be subtle on any other face, at the implication that Jiang Cheng hadn’t been trying to kill him. But, it doesn’t make the frown disappear. “He did not stand with you.”

“Neither did you!” Jiang Cheng snaps, going for the *jugular* without even realizing, and LWJ just fucking *wilts*

“That...is my regret.”

But before he could say anything else, WWX spoke again.

“Look, there’s no reason to rehash the past. I’m alive! And I know what I need to do to not be bad again, but I would really appreciate it if my brother and my soulmate” and didn’t THAT cause JC’s eyebrows to rise “didn’t hate each other.” Suddenly, several things about the last few years made a lot more sense.

“I don’t hate him,” Jiang Cheng said, as Lan Wangji said “Wei Ying is always good.”

When *that* caused the three of them to stare at each other again, Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Look, we need to talk soon about this whole time travel... thing, but I want nothing to do with whatever this” and gestures between them “is. So, I’m going to bed because I have been awake for two days straight and I would like to sleep. Figure it out!” and Jiang Cheng turned and went to find his bedroom (which he shared with WWX. Considering the way they were looking at each other, JC was pretty sure he’d be spending the first night without a roommate. Again).

MEANWHILE, outside, Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are left staring at each other. (Well, WWX stares after JC for a minute, mouth open, but that fades quickly when he sees Lan Zhan staring at him, all intent.)

Wei Ying would normally begin to fidget, but he’s transfixed, heart in his throat, without a clue as to what to do next and—

“A-Yuan.” Lan Zhan said, and Wei Ying’s focus sharpens.

“A-Yuan?!”

Lan Zhan nodded. “I found him, after. He was sick. I brought him here, gave him the name Lan to hide him.” He opened his mouth as if to say more, but fell silent.

Wei Ying was staring with shining eyes. “He lived? My little radish...” he trailed off, staring into the distance. He frowned, shaking his head. “But Lan Zhan, why would you—”

“I should have been there,” Lan Zhan interrupts *interrupts* angrier than he had ever sounded, but even Wei Ying can tell that it’s not directed at him. He cools quickly. “I will not make the same mistake.”

He catches Lan Zhan’s eye again and falls silent. “Oh.”

And Lan Zhan steps back, like he hadn’t intended to let that slip. “If Wei Ying does not feel the same—”

“I do!” Wei Ying bursts out, stepping forward and reaching out, not quite touching. “I do. Feel the same,” he said, quieter this time, for the two of them. Lan Zhan’s expression doesn’t change, but something shifts and Wei Ying knows him well enough to know it as *joy*

And, Lan Zhan reaches out and takes his hand.

(Yes, they use the next several months to actually talk though their relationship, but this is effectively a speed run from the way they feel in Episode 1 to the steps of jinlintai, bypassing all the *plot* that gets in the way of their romance, but whatever, it’s my fic. If this was a wangxian fic first, then I might do the “WWX needs to get a clue” thing he has going in the book, but.... Honestly, I *adore* the idea of *gremlin couple wangxian* on what is essentially their honeymoon in gusu. Like - pre-sunshot Gusu is not *prepared* for post-Yiling Laozu LWJ.)

The next morning, JC arrives to classes with the rest of the Jiangs, not at all surprised to see Wei Ying standing with LWJ (though everyone else seems to be weirded out by it, which may be because they’re standing far too close). LWJ nods at JC, who nods back, grimly pleased to see that there was no longer an open front of hostility. JC wasn’t foolish enough to think it was gone completely, but at least they should be able to discuss business when necessary. (And some part of his mind absolutely began planning the wedding. WWX was Yunmeng Jiang, and if JC had anything to say about it, he would REMAIN YMJ until he was damn sure to remember that he can’t get rid of Jiang Cheng that easily... and JC would be DAMNED if he let Lan Xichen steamroll the wedding prep, which he absolutely would, hopeless romantic that he was).

They enter and settle into their usual spots, though LWJ hesitates when he realizes that his seat would not let him watch WWX. JC continues on to sit in his old seat, determined to see *as little of this as possible* and turns to look at Nie Huaisang, who—

Oh, sonofabitch, Nie Huaisang was back too. How the fuck did their ritual have enough power to drag *four souls* back in time, especially one from *wherever the hell WWX was* JC widened his eyes at him, clearly saying *WTF* which had Nie Huaisang giving him a *look* from behind his fan, which fluttered, agitated. JC rolled his eyes, cutting them over to WWX, who was blatantly staring at Lan Wangji, chin propped on his palm. (And if LWJ had his head tilted so he could look back, well, *most* of the class probably couldn’t tell). Incredible. Jiang Cheng turned to look at JYL, who was hiding a smile behind her sleeve, when movement behind NHS caught his eye.

Meng Yao. Oh, that wasn’t awkward at all. Nie Huaisang flicked the corner of his fan, and JC turned back aground, knowing they would talk later, and then they were all standing as Lan Qiren walked into the room.

Which was when it dawned on Jiang Cheng that he would have to take these classes again. Judging by the soft whimper behind him, Nie Huaisang realized it, too.

The class runs the same, as clear as Jiang Cheng can remember, even if the recitation of the rules seems occasionally pointed at Lan Wangji, which is odd. He doesn’t dwell on it, however. He’s gotten good at looking like he was paying attention while thinking of other things, and Jiang Cheng had a lot to think about.

~*~

Like before, WWX invites NHS to go fishing (and JC isn’t sure if he realizes that NHS has also come back yet - in fact, he’s pretty sure he doesn’t), only this time, JC agrees to go with them and WWX pulls LWJ along, leading the group far enough ahead that JC and NHS end up waking behind. NHS keeps up with looked wide-eyed and confused until they leave the main areas for the backwoods.

“So,” Jiang Cheng starts. “Something went wrong.”

“Obviously,” Nie Huaisang hisses, snapping his fan closed. “I woke up in the same room as him.”

JC winces, because yeah, awkward. “I’m a little surprised he’s still alive, actually.”

NHS’s jaw clenched, and JC was reminded very strongly of NMJ. “No one would support flat out murder, even if they don’t really care about the victim.”

“And it’s messy,” JC offered, dry. NHS looked at him from the corner of his eye.

“It’s so hard to get blood out of white fabric,” he agreed and JC laughed.

THAT gets WWX to spin around. “You laughed!” he accuses, pointing a finger at JC.

“So?”

“So I haven’t heard you laugh in years, Jiang Cheng!” he pouts. “Why do you laugh at his jokes and not mine.”

“You are an *actual child*--”

Then, of course, NHS gasps, his fan falling from his hand. JC, catches it, reflexively, startled at the horror he sees on NHS’s face as the show drops. “Wei-xiong, you— but you—”

WWX laughs awkwardly. “No need to worry, I’m —” probably going to say something about not being evil anymore, or not following the demonic path, but NHS cuts him off.

“Back from the dead!?”

Which is when JC remembers that they used Baxia in the ritual, and if his core was enough to bring back WWX, then maybe...

“Da-ge!”

MEANWHILE, in Qinghe, Nie Mingjue wakes up, which is odd, considering the last thing he remembered was dying. Perhaps he didn’t die? Unless the doctors had some new pain medications, he didn’t feel as if he had just had a near-fatal qi-deviation.

Tentatively, he opens his eyes and sees...his bedroom ceiling. How long was he sleeping that they brought him from Lanling to Qinghe? His door opens and he’s reaching for Baxia before he can think — and stops when he recognizes Nie Zonghui (though not before Zonghui notices the aborted movement). “Sect Leader....troubled night?”

Nie Mingjue snorts. “That’s one way to put it.” There’s something rattling around the back of his mind, some detail that doesn’t quite add up as Nie Zonghui helps get him ready for the day. It’s not just that Zonghui doesn’t seem surprised (or relieved) to see him up and awake, it’s the names that Zonghui mentions in is reports — names of disciples who are, like Zonghui himself, long dead.

It’s when Zonghui mentions that a messenger bird had arrived from Gusu that morning, carrying word that Huaisang had arrived safely and that Meng Yao would be leaving tomorrow to return to his duties that the other shoe dropped.

“Zonghui, there’s something I forgot to tell Huaisang. I need to send him a message, the faster the better.”

Zonghui gave a short bow. “Consider it done.”

BACK IN GUSU

Nie Huaisang was pacing atop a long, flat rock on the river’s edge. It wasn’t a very long boulder, maybe 5 or 6 steps at most, but it was dry so Jiang Cheng wasn’t too worried about him slipping. Besides, Lan Wangji was sitting only a few stones away, playing a soft melody on his guqin.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were both in the stream, robes and pants hiked up to keep them from getting too wet, as they waited to catch their dinner. Jiang Cheng remembered getting upset about WWX fishing their second night there, blatantly flaunting the “no killing” rule, but if LWJ felt like indulging his soulmate, what the fuck, then who was Jiang Cheng to complain.

On the rock, Huaisang was plotting out loud, starting ideas and rejecting them just as quickly. “You know, if you put this much effort into your studies this time, you might not have to come back again,” JC called over. Nie Huaisand didn’t even break his stride, just flapped his fan irritably in Jiang Cheng’s direction.

WWX darted forward, pulling a wriggling fish into the air in triumph. “Jiang Cheng, catch!” He tossed the fish, and Jiang Cheng caught it with ease. He considered, for a moment, throwing it at Nie Huaisang, but he was getting hungry. He tossed the fish into the bank, where it wouldn’t flop back into the water. Lan Wangji side-eyed it, warily.

“You know, he’s not actually done anything wrong yet,” Wei Wuxian said. “Can you really hold him accountable for actions he hasn’t taken?”

That made Huaisang stop. “To a certain extent, yes, I can.” That got him a *look* from both LWJ and WWX. “Look, all the decisions we make are influenced by the lives we live. And no, as far as I can tell, Meng Yao didn’t come back with the rest of us - and I still don't’ know why you came back too, Lan Wangji,” LWJ makes a gesture that is far too elegant to be, and yet totally is, a shrug, “but so far, Meng Yao’s life is *exactly the same* as the Meng Yao who committed those acts. That means Meng Yao is the same man who WILL make those choices, barring a MAJOR shift in the way he views the world.”

“Can we cause that shift, then?” Wei Wuxian asked. “I just don’t know if ‘kill him dead’ is always the best course of action.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes narrowed, a fraction of the coldness Jiang Cheng had seen that day seeping through, before his expression cleared a bit. “It would be a touchy subject for you, yes, but Meng Yao is not Wen Ning.” Wei Wuxian flinched, and, surprisingly, it was Lan Wangji that spoke.

“One cannot change another’s mind,” he said, vanishing his guqin and rising to his feet, one hand behind his back. “One can only show the path; only they can choose to walk.”

“And we have the path to show him,” Wei Wuxian argued. “Don’t we have a responsibility to try, knowing the damage he can do? If we know we have the opportunity to change things and save lives, are we not bound to try? Is that not why Jiang Cheng was sent back in the first place?”

“I’m fine with killing him,” Jiang Cheng said. “He deliberately uses his own weakness to learn the vulnerabilities of others, and then uses that as leverage to get what he wants and then discard them once his objective has been met. He uses Jin Zixuan’s better nature against him. He used Mingjue’s sense of fair play against him and then used his biggest fear to kill him, and he used Zewu-jun’s kindness as a shield.” He looked up at Nie Huaisang. “Though, if you’re right and he’s back too, Meng Yao might not live long enough for us to do anything about it.”

“Oh no,” Huaisang said, voice dryer than dust. “What a tragedy.”

“His information was key in winning the war,” Lan Wangji said. “Can we win against the Wens again without him?”

“Hey, yeah,” Wei Wuxian added. “Speaking of - am I going to have to...” he trailed off, miming playing a dizi.

“You better not!” Jiang Cheng snapped. Wei Wuxian looked at him in surprise, then smiled sadly.

“No, you said not to, and I won’t refuse a direct order from my sect leader,” he said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I know how.”

“Meng Yao wasn’t actually that good a spy,” Nie Huaisang said, a faint frown between his brows that Jiang Cheng didn’t trust at all. It meant he had noticed something and was putting pieces together that Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure he wanted known. “More than once his information was either wrong or outdated. A lot of the correspondence was kept for our records, and I went back to check once I had my suspicions about him.”

“You think he was playing both sides?” Jiang Cheng asked. Nie Huaisang fluttered his fan and didn’t disagree.

Between them, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian caught more than enough fish to feed Huaisang as well, and he and Lan Wangji were both invited back to the Yunmeng dorms to eat with them and their sister. Yanli was surprised, of course, but rolled with it well enough. Luckily, she had chosen to make a soup that was in line with Gusu Lan’s dietary restrictions, so Lan Wangji was able to join them. WWX and JC exchanged smug looks when Lan Wangji blinked down at his soup in surprise, and began to eat more quickly.

Later that night, while WWX was walking LWJ back to his rooms, Yanli poked her head into JC’s room. “Second Young Master Lan seems to have taken quite a liking to A-Xian,” she said.

JC nodded, because that was certainly one way to put it.

“Which makes sense, A-Xian can be very charming,” she continued. “But from what the other female disciples tell me, Second Young Master Lan is ...” he paused, and Jiang Cheng filled in:

“A giant stick in the mud?”

“A-Cheng!” Yanli scolded, but there was laughter behind her voice. “...essentially, yes.”

Jiang Cheng sighed. He had no idea what to say here. He was never good at lies, never LIKED lies, preferring to neither confirm nor deny another’s suppositions when the need for secrecy was necessary...and he had never been able to lie to Yanli. Never wanted to. And besides, Nie Huaisang hadn’t covered this possibility with him.

“A-Jie,” he said, “There’s something I want to tell you, but it’s going to sound like a lie even though it’s the truth. I need you to hear me out, and to believe me, and I will do whatever I can to convince you that it’s real and true.”

And...he tells her. Flat out, just tells her about living the next ten years of his life - the end of her engagement, the indoctrination in Qishan, the burning of Cloud Recesses and Lotus Pier, the death of their parents, losing his core, gaining his core but losing Wei Wuxian, the War, her marriage to Zixuan, A-Ling, Nightless City, Nie Mingjue, death after death after death — and Nie Huaisang, like vengeance made flesh, with a crazy, desperate plan.

“So, yeah. They’re close because they’re, like, in love or whatever.”

“Because they’ve known each other for ten years.”

“Seven,” Jiang Cheng corrected. “They only had seven.”

Yanli looks a little stunned wild-eyed. She had looked sad yet resigned when she had heard about her engagement ending, hopeful when she heard about their wedding. Her eyes had shone suspiciously when she heard about Jin Ling...a few tears falling when she heard about Qongyi pass and Nightless City.

“Do...” he began. “Do you believe me?” he asked, voice small and hating it, but he couldn’t stand it if Yanli thought he would make this up.

Slowly, she nodded her head. “It sounds...wild,” she said. “But I know my A-Cheng. He is honest, and would not make up wild stories like this. So, if A-Cheng says it, it must be true.”

“A-jie,” He said, and had to stop, his voice choked off, and when Yanli leaned in to hug him, his tears were sweet with relief.

~*~

The next complication came the next day, at the presentation ceremony, when, once again, Wen Cho showed up to interrupt Yunmeng Jiang’s gifting. It took everything in him not to punch Wen Chao in his smug face with Sandu unsheathed, and Wei Wuxian was a dark, simmering presence next to him. Somehow, the steps played out like they had before - a brief exchange lead to swords drawn, lead to Xichen stepping in and Wen Qing soothing tempers with quick words.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t prepared to see her again. Her, or Wen Ning, who was a remarkably still shadow behind her. When they left, his eyes stayed lowered towards the ground. There was nothing to make Jiang Cheng think that there was something different, except the long running knowledge that he had the worst possible luck.

WWX was strangely unwilling to approach Wen Ning first, though he clearly wanted to. Some misplaced guilt, perhaps. He still clung to LWJ’s side, which was in no way avoidant behavior, WWX, but Jiang Cheng was surprised when Wen Ning found him first.

“I knew it!” Jiang Cheng cried out, to everyone’s surprise, even Wen Ning. He gestured at Wen Ning. “WWX’s here because he’s tied to me, and Wen Ning here is tied to Wei Wuxian.”

“That still doesn’t explain Lan Wangji,” Nie Huaisang said, tapping his fan against his cheek.

“Nothing explains Lan Wangji.”

“Aiya, Jiang Cheng, so mean!”

None of this has much of an effect on the present moment, however, save that it causes Nie Huaisang to adjust his plans *again*. “No one else has better come back!” he demanded. “All of these calculations are hard, and I am *delicate,* Jiang Cheng.”

“Yeah, a real wilting flower.”

Later that night, just before curfew, a missive arrived to Nie Huaisang from his brother. Huaisang walked as fast as he could manage from the Nie Quarters to the Jiang, bursting into Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian’s room, holding the letter aloft, speaking as soon as he’s through the door: “It’s him! He’s alive! Da-ge’s back!”

Huaisang slammed the letter on the table, reaching for the nearby inkbrush, quickly grinding some ink to circle letters on the page. There, written in an otherwise standard letter reminding Huaisang to mind his studies and practice his saber, was the phrase: Do Not Trust Meng Yao.

TO BE CONTINUED....

#mingcheng #the untamed #mincheng notefic #my fic

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melodious-madrigals · 4 years ago

Text

the last shred of truth (in the lost myth of true love)

Pairing: wondertrev Rating: T Word Count: 4277 Tags: amnesia!fic, hurt/comfort, happy ending, steve and diana being soft for each other Summary: When Diana wakes up alone in a hospital room with no memory of who she is or how she got there, she panics. But even though she doesn't remember anyone, there's someone who seems fundamentally familiar... AKA: the "i may have amnesia but i trust you implicitly" trope, wondertrev edition

Read it below the cut or on [AO3].

***

Notes: @svgurl410 this fic is Your Fault™ (affectionate) because you posted a thing about the amnesia trope and WHOOPS my hand slipped, so, uh, due to the stars aligning for some very convenient timing, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

***

She wakes up in a too-sterile room, white and soundproofed and empty, but for her and her bed and a battery of too-sterile machines, all hooked up to her.

The first thing she takes in is that everything hurts. Ache blooms down her body and her head feels like it’s about to split open.

She tries to lift a hand to knead away the pain, and that’s how she discovers thing number two: she is restrained here, in this strange place, by herself. Strapped to the bed with no recollection of where she is or how she got here.

Or, for that matter, her own name.

Normal hospitals don’t look like this, she thinks. Not that she can remember ever being in one, but she’s got the vague impression that there are usually windows, or people, or doors that look like they don’t require a top-secret clearance to exit through.

She’s in trouble, then; maybe the people tying her down are the reason for her faulty memory. (Retrograde amnesia, supplies a tiny voice in her brain that she doesn’t have time to examine.)

All she knows is that she needs to figure out how to get out. If she can’t remember anything, then she can’t rely on there being anyone who would help her out, which means she needs to rely on herself and only herself.

She struggles against the bindings—they’re tight, well-constructed, but she thinks she feels some give. With a little extra effort, she pulls, and low and behold, yanks the straps straight out of their holdings.

So she’s strong, then. Good to know.

She detaches her legs next, and is partway through unhooking herself from the plethora of machines when two doctors—scientists?—beep themselves into the room.

“Code yellow, she’s awake,” says one of them into a radio.

“Miss, you need to lay back down,” says the other.

“Where am I? What’s going on?”

“You’ve been gravely injured. You need to stay calm.”

The first one is still talking into the radio. “—and the patient is agitated. We need to put her on another macro dose of the sedative,” he adds to his colleague.

“No!” She wants to know what’s going on, not be drugged back into oblivion.

A frenzied swipe of her arm sends the man flying into the padded wall with a crunch that she’d feel bad about if there wasn’t panic rising in her throat.

Three more personnel, all bigger than she is, which is saying something, rush into the room and she leans back into a defensive stance until—

“Wait!” says a new male voice, and a tall, well-dressed man with the remnants of a cut over his eyebrow steps into the room. The orderlies stop their forward motion, but they don’t leave, and she’s scanning them for signs of weakness before she’s even aware she’s doing it.

“Diana, you need to calm down.”

Her attention snaps to the new man, and she eyes him warily. “Who are you? How do you know me? Where am I?”

“You don’t remember me?” He seems hurt when she shakes her head. “You’re at a hospital facility. You took a bad blow to the head, and now you’re in recovery.”

That would make sense, except, wait— “A head wound requires being tied down?”

“It was for your safety and theirs.”

“It seems more the thing you would do to a prisoner.”

“You’re safe here.” The man catches her hand as she tries to sidestep away from his advance. “Diana, you can trust me.”

There’s half a beat as she considers, where he makes eye contact, looks at her imploringly—

—but nothing good ever comes of people telling you to trust them, of this she’s sure, and when his grip tightens almost imperceptibly as he shifts, at the same time that one of the orderlies off to the side flinches forward, she throws him off, breaking his grasp and sending him flying into the hospital bed and related machinery.

The orderlies advance, but she’s properly panicked, now, desperate to get out of here, find something—anything—familiar, and it’s muscle memory that takes over, dodging around them and hurling them to the ground, blows strong enough to make sure they don’t get back up without hurting them too badly.

She’s out in the corridor when an alarm starts blaring, sending loud noises and flashing lights through the hallway that make her already-splitting headache throb as more people rush at her. Most seem to be technicians of some sort, but two are security guards carrying guns.

She doesn’t know how she knows how to fight—can’t even confirm with herself that her name is Diana—but she knows being here is not the answer and sets to work, lashing out at each successive wave of people.

As she’s dispatching with the last of this group, she hears a new set of voices and almost starts to cry—will these people stop at nothing to keep her locked up?

“—has gone crazy!”

“What the hell did you do to her?” At the sound of this newest shouting voice, another man’s, she counterintuitively feels her muscles involuntarily relax a little.

She turns around, dropping the last of her would-be attackers just as the man to whom the voice belongs skids around the corner and comes to a stop in front of her.

He is beautiful: dirty blonde hair and an angular jaw and striking blue eyes that have fixed themselves on her. There is fear in them, and anger, but it is not the same fear or anger of the scientists holding her in this place. She has the sudden, inexplicable thought that it might be for her rather than of her. Indeed, the second their eyes meet, she notices him deflate, relief evident in the lines of his body.

She sees him, and she feels—calm. He is familiar, somehow, even if her mind can’t pull him up.

“Diana,” he says, and the shape of her name in his mouth is a balm, like honey drizzled in tea or a whiff of lavender on the breeze under a hot summer sun.

Time dilates a little, as she drinks in the sight of him, whispers flitting in the corners of her brain that she can’t quite catch.

She takes half a step forward and sees the owner of the first angry voice fling an arm out in front of the man in warning.

“Stay back, Agent Trevor. She’s disoriented and extremely dangerous.”

“You’ve done more than enough already, and I’d thank you to stay out of it.” The man pushes the arm away and steps towards her, slowly, telegraphing the move before it happens. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, Angel.”

Like the chiming of midday bells, a dozen discordant memories of him saying Angel like that flicker through her brain before fading back into foggy nothing. She’s moved instinctually, before her brain has time to approve the motion, and then she’s in his arms, holding tight.

Home, her brain supplies, and she feels her cheeks getting damp from silent tears that she does her best to blink away.

“Hey, I’m here,” the man says, pulling back just enough to swipe the moisture away. “I know you must be scared right now, but you’re going to be okay.”

“I don’t know why I’m here or what’s happening,” she admits, whispering into his ear. “I just want to get out of here.”

Before he can reply, another wave of security floods the hallway, and the man reacts accordingly, twisting out of her arms and nudging her behind him.

“Everybody, stand down,” he commands.

The alarm stops, but the personnel don’t move and there are several holding what look like big-game tranquilizer guns.

“They’re technically friendlies,” he says over his shoulder to her, “even though they’re doing a shit job of it right now. Everyone, back off.”

Finally, the woman he appeared with nods, and with a wave of her hand, people start to retreat back down the corridor.

“You could convince her to stay, Agent Trevor,” the woman says, somewhere between imploring and accusatory.

“Maybe,” the man agrees. “But I won’t.”

“Think of her treatment. Be reasonable—”

“I am.” His voice brooks no refusal, and she’s strangely relieved. “After the way you’ve bungled this, she isn’t going to be comfortable here and I’m not making her stay. She wants to leave, so we’re leaving.”

“Her memory—” The woman’s face is pinched, like she’s swallowed half a lemon.

“Will not be improved by you poking at her. Diana?” He turns to her, offering her his hand, and she slips her own into it without question, letting his guide her down the hallway.

“Oh,” he says, over his shoulder, “and tell Bruce to expect my call.”

The parking lot outside is just asphalt and concrete, but it’s a relief to be out of the building and in the sun.

“I’m taking you to one of our houses,” the man says. “You’ve been there before, and you liked it.”

“Anything’s better than that lab.”

Something in his jaw ticks, and he nods before sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Thank you, Agent Trevor,” says Diana, once they’re speeding away from that awful facility. The way he flinches tells her it’s a mistake, somehow.

Her brow furrows. “Is that not your name? I thought I heard them call you that, but I don’t know your name. I feel like I must know you, but I can’t remember. I’m sorry.”

The man next to her takes a deep breath. “You remember the important things,” he says reassuringly.

“I don’t see how that can possibly be true.” She can’t remember a single name or face, or any of the events that precipitated the memory loss.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he reaches out and takes her hand, ever so gently, and slow enough that she could pull away. (She finds she doesn’t want to.)

“You remember how I make you feel, otherwise you wouldn’t have come with me,” he says finally. “The name stuff is a bit trivial compared to that.”

“Still,” she says, frustrated.

“Steve,” he relents. “My name is Steve Trevor.”

“Steve.” She turns the name over on her tongue and sees his mouth quirk out of the corner of her eye. Then he sighs.

“We’re about three hours away from the safe house. There’s plenty of time for a nap, and I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“No, the copilot’s in charge of the music,” Diana says automatically, surprising herself. Beside her, Steve glances her way, a bemused look on his face. In her seat, Diana just sags. “I have no idea why I said that. I’m exhausted.”

“You said that because it’s our road trip rule,” Steve explains gently, “but I think today calls for an exception. Get some sleep.”

She nods and lets her eyes flutter shut. Her eyelids have been heavy since she woke up the first time, but it’s only now she feels comfortable doing something about it. She’s asleep before they hit the next mile-marker.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she says, leaning in for a kiss that Steve is only too happy to provide.

“The hazards of loving someone who’s constantly saving the world,” Steve jokes.

“Alas, it was only a museum trade agreement this time.”

“As long as no artifacts were harmed in the process.”

“No, none at all,” Diana says, grinning. “What smells so delicious?”

“It’s—”

Her phone, on the Do Not Disturb setting that only Steve and the Justice League line can get through, pings angrily.

“Damn, I have to go.” She hands him her phone so he can read the sitrep from Alfred.

“I’d come with, but I have the meeting with Waller tomorrow.”

“I know,” says Diana ruefully. “It’s not worth an eight-hour flight for you. I should be home by tomorrow evening, anyways. It looks pretty standard.”

“Be careful.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“You are absolutely not. That’s why I’m telling you now.”

She laughs and kisses him. “Don’t forget to buy new basil plants again on the way home from the market.”

He huffs good-naturedly and rolls his eyes. “Diana—”

“Diana.”

She jolts upright, still looking at Steve’s face, but in a different time and place. She tries to hold on to the memory, but it filters away like the tide receding on a beach, out of her grasp before she can catch onto its ephemeral quality. When she tries to chase it, pain stabs through her head.

“Diana, are you okay?”

“Fine,” she says, wincing.

He looks unconvinced but doesn’t press. “We’re here.”

It’s a little cottage in a secluded wooded area, and it feels welcoming even from the outside.

“Is this where I live?” she asks, trying to figure out if this is the type of place she would want to live, as he unlocks the door and ushers her in.

“No, you mostly use this house when you come to the US for long business trips,” Steve replies. “You live in Paris, most of the year.”

Her brain conjures up an image of the Eiffel Tower, but it doesn’t feel like hers, just something clinical that she knows about Paris. She finds she also knows French, though once again, she doesn’t remember learning.

“I figured we could stay here a few days to see if your memory comes back on its own. If not, maybe going home will help.” He pauses. “Is that okay with you?”

“It sounds reasonable. I don’t—I don’t really know how to make my memory come back, though.”

“I don’t think there’s an established protocol for that,” Steve says, cracking a smile. “Except to make yourself comfortable and try not to stress too much.”

They stand there, staring at each other for a moment, and she gets the intense, sudden urge to kiss him. To see if that would help, like some sort of fairy tale. She’s halfway towards working up the nerve to close the distance between them when Steve clears his throat.

“You should take the shower first,” he says. “I know you hate the smell of hospital.”

As soon as he says it, she knows it’s true.

“Will you answer my questions after?”

“As best I can, yeah.”

How long she stands under the pounding hot water, she’s not entirely sure, but it feels good. Her muscles relax, and she closes her eyes, letting the water stream over her body.

A phantom touch on her shoulder, gentle but blazing with heat, and eyes to match, and the sudden feel of cold tile against her back—

—her eyes fly open, and she gasps, scrabbling to chase the feeling, one she’s sure is a memory, but the harder she tries to catch it, the more painful the stabbing sensation in her head becomes, and she’s forced to give up, tired and frustrated.

When she finally emerges from the bathroom, hair still damp and curling, it’s to find Steve finishing a call. Even as he’s occupied on the phone, she sees him gravitate towards her and then consciously stop, hovering a few meters away.

“I have to go. We’ll talk later,” he says tersely, and hangs up. Then to her, “That was Bruce.”

He says it like the name should mean something to her, but it doesn’t, and she shrugs helplessly.

Steve sighs. “Someone you work with,” he explains. “You encountered him earlier. Sent him flying clean across the room.”

She feels a stab of guilt—she’d sent a number of people flying across the room in her desperation, and she hopes that if he’s her colleague, he’s okay and that she’ll be able to properly apologize. Until then, “The one in the pretentious suit?” she clarifies.

It startles a laugh out of Steve—fluttering white curtains and mischievous bright blue eyes and that laugh, warm and infectious, snatched away in a flicker of pain—who just says, “That’s the one.”

She nods once, and then looks around, unsure. “Can you tell me why I’m like this? What happened?”

“Let me put the kettle on,” says Steve. “It might take a while.”

He tells her about the extent of her abilities, surprising in the abstract, and yet not so much when she thinks about the thrum that ignited in her veins when she felt like people were closing in on her. He tells her about the mission she left for, last night, that was pressing but apparently standard enough in scope. He tells her that something went wrong, that something powerful and unidentified was used to deal her a blow to the head, that she was unconscious for eight hours, that he got there as fast as he could but not soon enough because transatlantic flights take time, even when you’re the pilot on a requisitioned jet. He tells her that the explanation that he was given was that she’d been convulsing in her sleep, and really had been restrained only to prevent injury to the attending doctors. He tells her that the doctors—who never really had a chance to examine her, but for a single CT scan while she was unconscious, and who have no precedent since her physiology is so different than any other being on Earth—aren’t sure whether her memories will return or not. (One of them said to give it a few days; the other wasn’t optimistic at all, based on the scans.)

Through it all, he barely references himself, but she can see the contours of him woven in: he has intimate knowledge of the things she can do, and the ways in which she uses them. He was with her when she was called away on the mission; indeed, he is clearly with her often. He speaks about her with delicate care and a small smile on his face, and she can’t help but think that given the chance, she would probably talk about him the same way.

“And you?” she prompts finally, when he’s done, when the tea has long since gone cold and dinner is prepped and in the oven.

“Me?” says Steve. “What about me?”

“You’re clearly important to me. I trust you, somehow. But you’ve said almost nothing about yourself, and I’m not quite sure how you fit in.”

“I guess it wasn’t relevant.”

It’s a bullshit answer, and they both know it.

“I love you.” It’s a question phrased as a statement, but Steve has the uncanny ability of hearing it just as she meant it.

“Yes.”

“And you love me.”

“Yes.”

It confirms everything she heard in the subtext of his words, his tone. They’re something, something powerful, and she’s gone and thrown a wrench in it by forgetting everything about him, about them. The absence plagues her, but she can barely imagine the weight he must feel at the loss of their history, of being the only one to carry it. For the first time, she really contemplates the implications of the gaping holes in her mind.

“What happens if I never get my memories back like the doctors said?”

Steve scuffs a hand over his face, the only overt sign so far that he’s feeling the stress of the situation.

“Well, I’ll go on loving you all the same, and you can decide whether you still love me.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Love isn’t simple, Diana, but loving you is the easiest thing in the world. I’ll love you no matter what happens, and no matter what you decide when it does.”

She regards him for a moment. Now that she’s looking, she thinks she can see lines of tension in his body. He’s good at covering it up, but there’s worry there. Then the understanding hits.

“You’d let me go.”

His eyes fall shut, and she thinks maybe it’s so she can’t try to read them. It doesn’t matter: she can already see that he’s pushing down his pain to put her first, a clear character sketch if she ever saw one.

“Yeah.”

That one word, it makes her heart break for him.

“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’d like to.” He looks up at her, confusion dotting his features. “Go on loving you, that is,” she clarifies, and is rewarded by an absolutely incandescent grin.

“Well, that’s neat.”

The sacredness of the moment is shattered by the insistent dinging of the oven timer, signaling that dinner is ready, and Steve ducks his head, breaking eye contact as he gets up to retrieve the food.

They’re not very talkative for the rest of the evening, but even though the mood is heavy, the silence is not uncomfortable. There is an unspoken agreement that they can deal with the ramifications of the day tomorrow since it’s been such a long and stressful day for them both.

The house is small, one bedroom only, and given the conversation they had earlier, she just assumes that they’ll share the bed, but Steve, apparently, does not seem to share that assessment, because when he leaves the bathroom, he picks up the spare blanket off the foot of the bed and heads for the door.

“You could stay,” she says, so soft she’s not sure for a second if he even heard.

“Are you sure?”

“I feel better when you’re close by,” she admits into the darkness, and a moment later, she feels the bed dip next to her as he slips under the covers.

Her hand finds his under the duvet, and she links their fingers together. She wants so badly to remember him properly, but every time she pushes, there’s a searing pain that drives its way through her skull.

“Goodnight, Diana.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

It takes surprisingly little to drift away on the current of sleep.

The air is acrid, thick with smoke and gunpowder. She’s been here before; she knows this place. It is dark, but there are fires burning all around and the thunder of bombs, lighting up the horizon.

The earth shakes somewhere close by.

Then there’s Steve, in front of her, telling her he loves her, that he wishes they had more time. She doesn’t understand; as far as she can tell, he’s young and healthy. They have time, don’t they?

Time fuzzes and suddenly she’s staring at the sky, and a plane that she knows to be carrying Steve explodes, high above her in the cold dark air.

“NO!”

This can’t be how it ends. He can’t leave her like this. Think, Diana, she tells herself. The pain in her head is unbearable, but it is nothing compared to the one in her heart. If she can only push through, maybe she won’t have to feel this way anymore. Maybe she can change the ending. Maybe they’ll have more time.

…a cerulean ocean, and a diving plane.

…the soft shimmer of snow in lanternlight.

…a plane exploding high overhead.

…the weight of arms, too long gone and miraculously here, enfolding her.

…dancing in the late-night glow of streetlamps on a bridge over the Seine.

A thousand tiny flashes, all swirling together as her past and present unfold before her, and there at the heart—

“Steve!”

Diana sits up with a gasp, struggling for air as her brain tries to sort through the influx of information that it suddenly has access to once more. It’s all out of order and too much at once, but it’s there.

A hand on her shoulder tells her that Steve’s woken up too, and she slumps back against him, relishing the way he rearranges his arm so that she’ll be more comfortable.

“Did you remember the basil plants this time?” Diana asks, exhausted.

He lets out a little huff. “I was a little busy, what with—” She feels him stiffen under her, the whole of his body silently asking the question that his mouth isn’t. “Diana?” he manages, hesitantly.

She twists a little in his arms so that she can see his face. “I’m so sorry I forgot you.”

Everything in him relaxes. “You didn’t; not really.”

“No,” she corrects, “I think it would be impossible to forget you entirely. You’re written in my soul.”

He chokes a little at that, squeezes her closer, shifting just enough so that he can rest his forehead against hers.

“I’m glad you’re back, Angel.”

Diana kisses him softly, feels the dampness on his cheeks. “Oh, my love. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he insists.

“No, but I ache for what you must have felt, and yet you handled it all so calmly.”

“Shit, Diana, I was terrified,” Steve admits, somehow managing to pull her even closer, like he’s scared she might physically disappear, too. “It was only a day, but it felt like a century. I mean, we’ve had some pretty good times, and I didn’t want to be the only guardian of those memories.”

“That will never happen.”

“You can’t know that,” he says helplessly.

“I can. We always find our way back to each other, my love. I believe in us.”

“And you say I’m the one that spouts the romantic lines.”

“You love it.”

“I do.” He kisses her, soft and slow, and any quip she might have had flies directly out of her head in favor of this feeling.

“Don’t forget me between now and tomorrow,” Steve whispers later as they drowse next to each other.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it,” Diana promises, tucking her face back into the juncture between his shoulder and neck, before falling asleep herself.

(She doesn’t—her promises, after all, are unbreakable.)

***

#wondertrev #wondertrev fic #wonder woman #diana prince #steve trevor #Diana x Steve #lenci writes

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mental-dilemma · 4 years ago

Text

DATPT part 5

The boys have a conversation with Bruce before all hell breaks loose.

we're gonna ignore the fact I haven't posted in months, for compensation can I give you an extra-long chapter? BTW yes I did finish editing this during class, I'm also not great with pranking siblings, and since this was the way to tell them bout Marinette/Ladybug I ran with it.

Read from the beginning:

“Ok, Damian, have fun.” Dick turned to his brothers. “Well, boys it looks like we’ll have the apartment to ourselves Damian’s staying with Marinette tonight.”

“And you're ok with that?!” Jason asked, shocked Dick would let their youngest brother stay over with his girlfriend.

“Oh don’t give me that they’re both eighteen now and something tells me Marinette’s parents will keep more than one eye on them. So what do you guys want to do tonight.” The three brothers had decided that this trip to Paris would also be family time, especially considering how they didn’t really get any of that during the year.

“Movie?” Tim asked.

“Which one.” Jason was not watching another

“How bout this one?” Tim picked up the box that Damian had left sitting out on the coffee table earlier that morning. Jason plucked it from Tim’s hands and began reading the title. “Night of the living statue. Are you sure this doesn’t even seem scary?”

“I mean there’s always the crowbar wielding clown we could watch.”

“Oh yeah, that one got burned a while ago.”

“Fair enough.”

“So Night of the living statue it is,” Dick said, already making the popcorn.

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

“No don’t go into the basement, oh come on!” Jason was yelling at the screen.

“Jason you know they can’t hear you right?” Tim said rolling his eyes, which were illuminated by the laptop screen sitting in front of him.

“I don’t care Replacement the fact they’re doing it goes against every bit of common sense, it just doesn’t make, well--”

“Sense?” Dick supplied walking back into the room with the third popcorn bucket of the evening.

“Exactly I just don’t get it!” Jason held out his hands and made a grabbing motion for the bucket Dick easily sidestepped him and plopped down between the two.

“Ok, Tim popcorns back computers off.” He said as he finished getting settled.

“But I’m almost in, five more minutes and we get authentic Wayne manor security footage, and that’s better than any movie.

“Rules are rules replacement you agreed to the trade so you have to deal with it,” Jason said munching on popcorn.

“He’s right, and anyway if you keep going at it we’re gonna get a call from Al-” Right on cue, the video call screen popped up on Tim’s computer. He groaned before hitting accept.

“Hey, Alf good to see ya ol’ buddy ol’ pal! How’s the good ol’ USofA?” He said in an overly perky voice.

“Master Drake if I might request you stop attempting to hack onto the Batcave system it would be much appreciated.” Alfred’s voice rang over the call.

“Just hacking into security footage, huh?” Dick said glaring at Tim, Paris was a no hero weekend and Tim just broke that.

“I uh… I’m gonna go.” He said ending the call, moving quickly he closed his laptop grabbed a handful of popcorn, bolted over the couch to the room he was staying in, and closed the door.

“Well, that’s the last we’ll be seeing of him tonight,” Dick said moving to grab his phone. He opened up Alfred’s contact at called him back. “Sorry, Alfred he’s just itching to get a case. He’s gotten really bored seeing Paris like a normal person, well as normal as you can get given we’re Waynes.”

“Don’t worry about it I have one of those as well.” He panned his camera over to where Bruce was sitting cowl down at the computer in the Batcave. Dick and Jason both gave a small laugh.

“How is he doing?” Dick asked.

“Oh same as usual, sulking during the night, acting like a complete buffon during the day.” Jason laughed, Dick heard Bruce mutter through the phone, and Alfred brought the camera over to Bruce.

“Hey, Bruce how ya doing?” Dick asked innocently.

“How am I doing? Let’s see Richard, my sons hijacked the plane to go to Paris on a whim with no planning whatsoever, I got a call from Damian’s school that he was absent today. I'm also dealing with a very angry Italian ambassador, oh and with all the girls out on other missions I’m dealing with the entirety of Gotham and WE by myself for who knows how long. How do you think I feel?” The bags under Bruce’s eyes were more pronounced than usual as he berated his two older sons for a few more minutes, “now do you two have a reasonable explanation, or am I going to be feeding your asses to Harley Quinn for therapy sessions this week.”

“Damian has a girlfriend,” Dick said smoothly, Alfred and Bruce both paused, looked at each other, and burst out laughing.

“Please Dick if you’re gonna come up with an excuse at least make it a plausible one,” Bruce said while Alfred was attempting to compose himself in the background.

“I’m telling the truth, her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’s in his class and apparently, they’ve been dating for the last few months.”

“I’m going to search her up and if you’re lying to me it’s three therapy sessions with Quinn.” Dick shivered remembering the last time that happened, He had been suspended over a shark tank until he admitted he needed to start putting himself first. Bruce typed a few things on the computer and let out a sharp whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“See I told you,” Dick said smugly.

“That doesn’t change the fact that---” Bruce was cut off as they heard a scream come from Tim’s room.

“Sorry, Bruce gotta go check that out. Call you later.” Dick ended the video

following Jason to Tim’s room where they saw him sitting over his computer furiously banging on the keyboard.

“Woah Woah replacement if you keep that up then there won’t be any computer left to type with.”

“I don’t care! Someone cut the power and I was in the middle of checking Parisian crime records.

“Don’t freak out,” Dick said calmly, “I’ll go check the fuse box, you and Jason can go check the router. Ok?”

“Ok,” Tim said taking a breath. He put his computer aside and walked out of the room with Jason following him. Dick tried to call Damian to find out where the fuse box was, but for some reason couldn’t get a signal inside the apartment. He walked out onto the balcony waving his phone up wildly seeing if a bar would show up. He sighed as he brought his phone down. Nothing. As he turned to go back inside he felt a small pinch on his neck he moved to swat at it and he felt nothing. As he stepped forwards his eyelids began drooping, he stumbled and reached for the railing. He missed and before he slipped into unconsciousness he felt the bite of cold cement against his arms.

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

When Dick woke up the sun was streaming through the living room window. He felt a weight on his stomach and when he stretched his neck up he saw Jason was lying on him, with Tim lying on the top of the pile. He laid there a moment as the night caught up to him, he began formulating who would knock them out, and how he was going to get out of this dogpile when a sharp“Ahem” sounded from the doorway. Standing there was Damian in jeans and a shirt.

“Well, it looks like you guys had a blast last night,” Marinette said poking her head in. It was the first time Dick had seen her without pigtails, instead, she had her blue-black locks tied back in a messy bun and she was suspiciously wearing Damian’s sweatshirt.

“You want to tell me why Father called me last night wanting to know all about my girlfriend and why I hadn’t told him about her yet.” Jason and Tim gave simultaneous groans of annoyance as Dick hopped up.

“Listen Damian I can explain,” He said stepping forward. He felt something hook his foot. “What the--” he got out before red paint came crashing down on top of him. Jason and Tim, both awake now, shot up trying in vain to avoid the downpour only to stumble into more strings. Before anyone could blink glitter rained down from the ceiling sticking to the paint coating the boys. A camera flash later saw them giving the death glare to Damian as he and Marinette stood off to the side trying not to laugh.

“What. the. Hell.” Dick said as he wiped paint from his eyes.

“If you want to live Demonspawn you better hope that this paint comes out,” Jason said as he attempted to shake glitter from his hair.

“If Con ever finds that picture Jason isn’t gonna be the one you should be scared of,” Tim said dangerously low. Damian finally cracked and started laughing. Collectively the three batboys stopped and looked up in shock. They hadn’t heard Damian laugh before, sure they’ve heard the evil laugh and the Robin laugh but never his laugh, it was soft light, and infectious. Before long Marinette was laughing too, while Jason Tim and Dick were all smiling.

“Ok you were right that was better than anything I could think up,” Damian said as he composed himself.

“Hey give some credit to Luka,” Marinette said, “He was the one who suggested glitter.”

Jason’s eyes widened as he realized that not only did Demon spawn pull a nonlethal prank, but Marinette was in on it. Not just Marinette but some kid named Luka too.

“Wait back up, you’re telling me you guys decided that you should knock us out, and then dump red paint and glitter on us?” Tim said blearily.

“Well, we couldn’t just come out and tell you,” Marinette responded.

“Well we could, but this is revenge for your little family trip,” Damian interjected.

“Tell us what? That you hate us with a passion? You’re an evil psychopath?”

“You know for a family of detectives you guys can be rather slow.” Marinette slammed a hand over her mouth realizing what she had said. “I’m sorry I didn’t me--”

“I love you so much right now,” Damian said gawking at her, Marinette blushed.

“Ok, will one of you two please talk to us rather than whatever,” Jason gestured vaguely to the two of them, “that is.”

“What color is the glitter?” Marinette said as she turned her attention from Damian. She sounded almost like a school teacher would when talking to children.

“Black…” The boys responded in unison.

“And what color is the paint?”

“Red.”

“So what’s red and covered in black spots.”

“Lady----- Oh for fucks sake,” Tim said slapping his hand on his forehead.

“There it is,” Marinette said triumphantly, a smile spreading across her lips. A few moments later Jason and Dick both gasped as the information finally sunk in.

“Why can’t anyone in this family be normal.” The second youngest Wayne lamented.

“Well, at least this means you can join my team and me on patrols. I bet that’ll make Paris a little more interesting.” Tim perked up.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. We can talk all that out later but you need to go get cleaned up before the paint stains the carpet.” Damian interrupted, he didn’t like the fact Marinette was talking about patrol with his brothers.

“I would like to remind you that this was your plan, Damian,” Dick said.

“It may be my plan but it’s someone else’s carpet now go.”

The three boys were shepherded to the bathroom while Damian and Marinette cleaned up the mess left in the living room. All three of them were rather impressed with the way the two of them had revealed Marinette’s identity, although it went unspoken how if anyone revealed it there would be serious consequences.

It took them over an hour to even begin making a dent in the glitter-paint combination that covered their bodies. Dick having been directly under the bucket had it the worst, with Jason coming in at a close second. Jason thought he had at least gotten out the stuff in his hair during his shower, only to look in the mirror and let out a quiet fuck. Dick gave him a questioning look, in response, Jason just pointed to his hair. Where his white streak was now stained a deep crimson. “This means war.”

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#damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #damientte #damianette #marinette dupen chang #Damian wayne #Maribat #Maribat au #Marinette #Damian #Jason todd #dick greyson #tim drake #ml fic

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