#I mean obviously it did but I doubt it was called just toast | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skzhua · 1 year ago

Text

MASTERLIST

pairing: trainer!hwang hyunjin x female!reader (feat. han jisung)

genre: divergent!au, love triangle, fluff, angst, dystopian, slow burn.

word count: 16,170

warnings: swearing, fighting, mention of death, drugs, drinking, suggestive. (proofread-ish)

summary: hyunjin is a confusing man. one day he confides to you with such passion, the next he ignores you. meanwhile, you have to figure out who you are and what you want.

a/n: the story is similar to divergent but very different at the same time. some things don't match with the original universe. tell me if you would be interested in a sequel!

"Wake up." you groaned as you shook your brother awake.

He let out a whine, slowly getting aware of his surroundings. With a yawn, he finally opened his eyes and gave you a disgusted look. You were dressed formally from head to toe. Even your hair that was usually in a messy bun was properly styled into a slicked back ponytail.

"What's happening?"

You rolled your eyes before throwing a pile of clothes at him. "Today's our aptitude test, remember?"

He frowned for a moment while inspecting the attire. "Right..." he sighed.

Walking downstairs, you met with your parents as they prepared breakfast. Kissing both their cheeks, you sat down and watched them cook.

You loved your parents for sure, there was no denying that. However, being in the Candor faction meant they were unapologetically truthful in their remarks. This was a great strength in political terms but as far as you were concerned, it made your childhood rough, especially since you became a teenager. Nonetheless, you loved them. Sometimes.

"Did you wake Felix up?"

You nodded your head. "He'll be coming down in a bit, that is if he doesn't fall back asleep."

"I'm up." the said-boy spat out at you as he came down the stairs.

Stealing a toast from your father's grasp like it was nothing, he sent you another one of his annoying grins. One that said "Aha, I'm the favourite." He was undeniably the favourite but it didn't mean he had to be this pretentious about it. His spot was earned when your older brother left the family to join the Erudite faction. It was a rough day for you and your family but Minho was even worse than Felix in terms of showing off being the golden child.

"I can make some more, Felix." your mother smiled warmly at your brother.

You huffed. "You didn't even bother offering me one."

"Y/N, don't be like this."

"I'm only saying that it wouldn't hurt showing a bit of love to your other child."

She sighed before sliding a bowl of cereals your way. She sure tried to make an effort at times but she couldn't lie to you. She loved Felix more. You looked at the meal with an unfazed look and pushed it back to it. Why were you still trying at this point?

"I know it can be a stressful day but I have no doubt this will be a new beginning. I sure do hope you will get Candor but as long as Abnegation is not an option, I'll respect your choice."

Your father's words being obviously directed to your twin brother, you let out yet another groan and went to the front door, ready to leave. As your family continued on with their chat, you leaned against the doorframe to wait. A few "good luck"s and "do good"s types of comments later, Felix finally joined you to head out.

Just as you were about to step out, your mother stopped you by calling out your name. "Good luck to you too." she smiled.

Although you knew she could only tell the truth, you still doubted her. With a quick nod of the head, you walked out.

It was a woman who was in charge of your test. While the room was threatening with its white walls, the intimidating tools and the chair that stood in the middle, you were far from being stressed. If anything, you had been waiting for this moment your whole life. An opportunity to get away from your annoying brother and your parents who were constantly disappointed in you? Yeah, you knew you were definitely not a Candor.

"You can sit." the woman said, grabbing your attention and you did as told.

Totally unbothered to say another word to you, she began to prepare the material for the test. The screen next to her was pitch black for now and she seemed to be mixing some sort of serum. You were about to ask her what it was but she turned around in a swift manner and held the said-serum in front of you.

"Drink this."

Doubtful, you took the vial from her hand and drank it down. Coughing at the taste, you almost choked.

And as you got over it, your whereabouts had totally changed. The test had started.

You were taken aback when you saw your reflection from across the room. Looking around, there was nothing else but that. What were you supposed to do now? Unsure, you walked towards the reflection. Only, seconds later, another you turned into an infinite number of yourself. Mirrors everywhere. Just to be sage, you walked backwards until you hit something. Two pillars with bowls on top were what you had bumped into: one with a knife and another with cheese.

"Choose!" you heard from your left.

Jumping in surprise, you came face to face with yourself but not quite yourself. Although it wasn't exactly another person, it felt somehow reassuring to have a presence with you.

"Choose..." you repeated in a whisper. "Which one is the right one?"

The other you refused to speak.

"Can't you tell me?"

"Choose."

You frowned. This was sure not helping. And luckily for you, you would have to make the choice as the pillars were replaced by a dog. You usually adored animals but this one wasn't exactly what you'd describe as friendly. Quite the opposite, it was barking at you nonstop. Growling with his back arched up, he was coming dangerously close to you. You knew it was a matter of seconds before it'd attack you. Stepping backwards, you held your hands up in defense, waiting for it to charge. Before you could even prepare yourself mentally, it lunged at you at full speed. Heartbeat racing, you closed your eyes. As if time had stopped, your mind was filled with reasonings, one being the most logical.

This was a simulation. There was no dog.

Your eyes slowly opening, the dog was sitting at your feet, looking up at you with its puppy eyes. You mentally gave yourself a tap on the shoulder but the pride didn't last long. A young girl staring at you and the dog appeared nearby. This caused the animal to go wild again, growling and barking at the girl. As it started to chase after, you jumped at it before thinking and tackled it down.

You gasped for air and sat straight up on the chair. You weren't fully back to reality when the woman in charge of your test spoke in a hurried voice.

"Go home, now."

You stare at her in confusion, not moving the slightest bit which was definitely putting her to the edge. She took you by the arm to get you off the chair and led you to the door.

"Tell your family I sent you home early because you reacted poorly to the serum."

"Wait." you stopped her. "What happened? Why are you telling me this? What were my results?"

She froze in place before clearing her throat. "It was Candor." she paused. "But it was also Amity, Abnegation, Dauntless, Erudite-"

"Woah, what are you saying?" you cut her off, confusion growing in you.

"You can't tell anyone, not even your family. This type of results puts you in grave danger."

Your brain was running at a thousand miles per hour as you were trying to make sense in what she was saying.

"So what do I chose at the ceremony tomorrow?"

She grunted in frustration. "Anything but I put Erudite as your result."

"How is it possible that I don't have a clear result?"

She had visibly caught on your desperation and curiosity as her eyes got softer. "It's called Divergent. It's extremely rare but possible and you will get eliminated if someone ever finds out."

"So..?"

"Stay on the low and don't tell anybody."

Felix seemed to be floating on a cloud. Skipping as you were heading to the choosing ceremony, he was grinning like a child while singing happy tunes.

"Lix, can you shut it?" you asked in the nicest way possible.

He walked closer to you and leaned down in order for his mouth to be right next your ear. "No."

"Let your brother have his fun. After all, it is an important day for you two." your mother said in his defense.

"Sure is important. Proof is that you truly were worried when I came home sick from the test yesterday." you smiled at her in a sarcastic way.

"Y/N Lee." you father said in a warning tone.

"Sorry."

You weren't anywhere close to feeling sorry. Still, you followed them as you finally arrived at the ceremony. The room was filled with people your age who were accompanied by their parents. It was interesting and nearly awkward to see all of the factions together in one place as this was a rare occasion.

You soon found your seats and waited for everyone to settle. Once the place was full, a man you presumed to be the host stood in front of the bowls that were displayed for you to make your choice. He started to go on about the factions, the importance of today's choice, and so on. Frankly, you weren't listening and Felix wasn't either apparently.

Snudging your arm continuously, he whisper-yelled your name a couple of times before you decided to finally snap a "what?" at him.

"I'm nervous."

You perked up an eyebrow. "You? Nervous?"

He nodded. "You know, I'm going to miss you."

You laughed sarcastically but his face remained the same, his worry was still plastered all over his face. With a sigh, you rubbed his hand. "I'll miss you too. You might get on my nerves but you were a good brother."

You exchanged smiles but it was soon interrupted by Felix's name being called. He took a deep breath before walking down to choosing point. You watched his back while he was making a small cut un his hand. You had no idea what he was choosing or what were his results to the test. You wanted to think he was going to pick Candor to stay with your parents but he was obviously not going to. Felix was simply not fitting in Candor.

"Erudite." the man announced after Felix's blood came in contact with the water.

You stared at him blankly, watching him head towards the Erudite group. You would have expected him to go with Abnegation, he has always been a kind soul despite being the snob brother he was to you. You started to wonder whether he made the choice himself or he picked Erudite to not be on your parent's wrong side. Anyway, this wasn't important to you anymore. It was your time to choose.

After hearing your name, you walked to the same spot where Felix was standing seconds ago. You hissed as you sliced part of your palm with the knife. And then, you froze. As it came down on you that you had no idea what you were supposed to belong to, every muscle in your body tensed up. You had to think fast, everyone was watching you. Looking at each bowl one by one, you gulped. What now?

After what seemed to be hours, your hand lifted above a bowl and you hear a sizzle as your blood dropped.

"Dauntless."

The faction in question cheered while you went to sit with them with a shy face. Why did you even choose Dauntless? You weren't built to be physically fighting. You weren't as cunning as they were. Sure, you had an attitude but that was it.

The rest of the ceremony went by rather quickly as you had totally zoned out after your turn. You could stay like this for long, however. The moment your new faction left the place, you were told to run and follow.

Your cardio was never in its best state, this was only a confirmation of it. You were among the people running behind. Still, you didn't let this discourage you and you persisted on joining the others.

Coming face to face with a metal pole that led to the train rails, you watched everyone climb up. Taking a second to check your proper and formal attire, you doubted a little. Nonetheless, you followed their moves and climbed up, not daring to look down.

Next thing you had to do was jump in the train coming whilst it was functioning. The speed was almost too fast for you to keep up but you managed. Grunting and panting, you put your body against the wall and slid down in exhaustion. That's when you noticed a boy in front of you was staring. You almost called him out for it but were interrupted when you heard people getting agitated. Glancing outside, they were jumping from the wagons to the rooftop of a building. You cursed at yourself, already having enough of it for your first day. Again, you shut yourself up and followed. You would lie if you said you weren't proud of yourself.

"Hmph." you heard grunting behind you.

The same boy from earlier. He was the same age as you for sure but he looked much younger, as if he wasn't supposed to be there. Most importantly, he looked vulnerable. It made you question yourself why he even chose Dauntless.

You walked to him, offering your hand which he took with no hesitation. With a grateful smile, he stood up before you walked side by side to join the others.

"Han Jisung." the boy spoke up.

You extended your hand again for him to shake. "Lee Y/N."

"Nice to meet you." he smiled, a bit too enthusiastically in your opinion.

"Likewise."

"Alright, initiates!" a man, presumably one of the trainers, called out. As everyone gathered around him, he led you to the edge of the building. "My name is Changbin, I will be going through your initiation with you. You chose Dauntless, I hope you have an idea what you got yourself into."

You hated the look in his eyes, menacing and yet, obscure. You couldn't tell a single thing past his façade.

"So, who's willing to come down first?" he asked, scanning the group. "Nobody?"

You and Jisung exchanged looks, his much more nervous than yours. You took a deep breath and made your way through the crowd to come forward.

"What are you doing?" you heard Jisung whisper-yell at you.

"First jumper, uh?" Changbin snickered.

You ignored him and stepped onto the wall, not forgetting to look down. There was a hole, wide enough for a whole building to fit. It was so deep, you couldn't see the end of it. Taking a deep breath, you shut your mind off from any distressing thoughts and jumped. You could feel you heart pound so loudly and yet, it felt liberating. You were in the air, falling slowly and feeling nothing around you.

As you reached the end merely seconds later, your body was met with a net. Waking up from your daze, you began to make your way to edge so you could get off. Still, you were struggling.

"Here, take my hand." a soft voice spoke.

Your eyes moved to where it came from and you spotted what you could describe as the most beautiful man you've ever seen. Mysterious but soft, his features were completing one another perfectly. He was breathtaking.

"What's your name?" he asked once he helped you get off.

"Y/N."

"Hm." he hummed, taking a moment to look at you closely. "First jumper: Y/N." he announced loudly.

It made you realize a whole other crowd was there, watching the new initiates arriving. You joined them and waited patiently for the next person to come. You were relieved to see Jisung coming safe and sound, although slightly shaken up. He rushed to your sides as soon as his feet touched the ground.

"This was not fun." he breathed out, making you chuckle.

"It's only the beginning."

"Believe me, I know that." he rolled his eyes.

"Why did you choose Dauntless, anyway?"

He gulped. "It was my test results, but I think I should have stayed with my parents in Amity. What about you?"

"I don't know, it looked fun to me."

His eyes widened. "How can you describe this as fun? It's a death wish."

"What was that?" the pretty man said, interrupting your friend.

Jisung froze in place as the man made his way to him in a slow and imposing way. The guy was tall to begin with but you felt smaller than a mouse in his presence. If you thought Changbin was intimidating, this was nothing compared to that.

"That's what I thought." he sighed before stepping away from the two of you. "Welcome initiates. My name is Hyunjin and I will be in charge of your training with Changbin here with me to keep a look on you all. A few times during your initiation, Chan will come take a look to see how things are going for you. For those who don't know him, he is the faction's leader. Now, I'm not someone who teaches softly. It will be harsh, demanding, but you knew that once you chose us.

"The initiation process is long and tiring but I believe you'll be doing just fine. The first step is physical training. You will learn to fight and defend yourselves in ways you can't even imagine as of right now.

"The second step is psychological endurance. I will go more in depth once we get there but it will be the hardest part of the process. Only the toughest ones among you will make it through.

"Finally, your abilities will be shown to the faction leaders which will then determine your role among the faction. For exemple, I was made a trainer and Changbin is one of the co-leaders."

"Because you rejected to offer to be one, they asked me." Changbin commented but Hyunjin brushed it off.

"For tonight, a party will be held for your arrival. Tomorrow morning, your training will begin. Follow me, I'll show you where you'll stay."

The whole group did as told and you walked through a couple of hallways, all darker than the ones before. Water was dripping and the lighting was dimmed so much, you could barely see.

In the end, you arrived in a one-room place where the toilets were exposed for everyone to see. Beds were arranged messily and you could tell the conditions were not going to be the best for the next year.

Hyunjin, after answering a few questions, left you all to get changed before coming to the cafeteria. He instructed for you to go burn your old factions' clothing as you were no longer going to need them. It kind of broke your heart to official put terms with your past life, but you had to do it.

As you dropped your old attire in the burner, you thought of Felix for a second. How was he doing in Erudite? Did Minho find him and help him? Was he adapting well?

And your parents? How were they handling being separated from their favourite child?

"Are you going to pick at your fries all evening?"

Jisung speaking brought you out of your thoughts. You didn't even remember getting your food and sitting with him. Right in front of you were two other guys who Jisung had seemed to befriend.

"Sorry." you replied. "I was just thinking."

He sighed. "Same. I'm thinking about my parents. I hope they know I'll be alright."

"Will you, though?" one of the two boys asked jokingly.

"Jeongin, come on." the other said. "We'll be done with this initiation thing before we know it. Plus, Jisung is braver than you; he jumped right after missy here."

"Thanks, Seungmin." Jisung smiled.

"Where were you before?" you asked, curious about where these new friends came from.

"Abnegation." Seungmin smiled proudly. "And Jeongin was in Erudite."

"Amity." Jisung informed, though you already knew that. "Can I just say, you look nothing like a Candor."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "What do you mean by that?"

Jeongin scoffed. "You're kidding? You're supposed to be truthful and say what comes in your mind but you're awfully quiet."

You jumped when a tray a food was dropped on the table. Hyunjin, in all his glory, sat next to you as he sent a glare to Jeongin before speaking.

"Knowing when to shut your mouth is actually a good trait for Dauntless, which is your faction now. So no talk about the other factions, got it?"

You all nodded nervously, afraid he'd take out any of you in a second. Nonetheless, you could see there was something mysterious about him. Whether it was the presence or lack of darkness, what was in his eyes: you were pulled by it.

"Are you a Dauntless born?" you bluntly asked.

Your new friends' eyes widened at your boldness. Either you were about to get beaten or killed, both bad scenarios.

Hyunjin finished his bite slowly, jaw clenching, before he turned to look at you in the eye. "What tells you you can speak to me?"

You blinked once, unsure on what to answer. "Well, I just thought-"

"You thought wrong. I'm only here for the training, not to make friends."

And just like that, he stood up and took his tray before walking away, far enough for you to lose sight of him. You huffed at yourself. Odd, you thought.

"Did he come here only to leave two seconds later?" Seungmin said in confusion.

Jisung shrugged. "Let's not question it."

Dinner continued normally after that. As instructed, none of you mentioned their faction again. Instead, you went on with learning more about each other. Jeongin is the middle child, making him the forgotten one by his parents. He is a lively guy but can be rude at times. He never means any harm, though. Seungmin is the younger sibling of an older sister. He likes making jokes and fun of people, in an affectionate way of course. And Jisung, you were starting to know him pretty well. He is a shy boy at first but can be noisy when comfortable.

"I have to thank you, Y/N. I don't think I would have been able to go through all what happened if it wasn't for you." Jisung smiled gratefully.

"Thanks for sticking around too." you smiled back.

The moment was interrupted when a loud whistle was heard. On a table stood Hyunjin, Changbin, and another unknown man. Once they caught everyone's attention, they asked you all to shut it.

"Initiates." Changbin started, loud enough for the whole group to hear. "I hope you had a blast tonight. Unfortunately, it has to come to an end. Before we send you back to the dormitory, the faction leader has a few things he'd like to tell you."

He gestured to the man next to him to speak in his turn. He wasn't that much taller than Changbin. What stood out from him to you really was his blonde hair. His aura was intimidating but nothing remotely closed to Hyunjin's. For him, you could see he had a soft side.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Christopher, or Chan. Whatever you prefer. I am Dauntless' leader for a 5th year now. Welcome to the faction. I won't lie, the process of initiation will be hard and rough. Now, I am strict with newcomers, but I'm also someone who won't take disrespect lightly. Although you are trained to fight, I strongly believe we should all be respectful among us. I'll be watching you throughout the process, which starts tomorrow. Good luck, and welcome again."

Hyunjin was quick to dismiss you all to your room – though you wouldn't go as far as to call it that – and instructed you all to get up in time the morning after. As he finished speaking, he gave you a glare that lasted too long to your liking before leaving as well. Was it a glare or a simple stare? You weren't exactly sure in all honesty.

You did wake up in time, all thanks to Jeongin. The poor boy had frantically ran around while almost screaming as he couldn't find his pants. In the end, he had simply left them with Seungmin's belongings the previous night.

Still a bit sleepy, you looked around to check where you had left your own things. Strangely enough, they were nowhere to be found. Only then, Jisung appeared with a pile of your clothes and laid them on your bed before sitting on the thin mattress.

"I assumed you'd want to stay in bed a bit longer so I prepared your things in advance." he shyly admitted.

"I appreciate it, thanks." you nodded your head.

You rapidly ran to a corner, making sure no one could see you naked, and joined your new friends so you could head to the training room together. On the way there, you couldn't help but look at your surroundings once more. It was still surreal that you were in a new faction, one so different. You started to wonder if you had made the right choice. Maybe you should have gone in Erudite with your brothers. Then, again, you didn't have the best relationship with them anyway.

There was no room to have such thoughts, you were in Dauntless and that was it. Even more so now that you were standing in front of a seemingly exhausted Hyunjin next to an equally tired Changbin. Maybe they continued the party after you left.

"First day and you're all here. Good." Hyunjin nodded to himself after counting everybody. "Alright, so today is going to be hard for you. It's the beginning and you aren't used to it yet so don't expect yourself to be absolutely great. I don't expect any better than that anyway."

You noted how low he was speaking of the group. Sure, you were all beginners but it was no reason to slander you like this.

"Each week, you will be ranked from strongest to weakest. This is in no way my decision, it is a new reform by the factions leaders. The strongest one are going to be assigned higher positions and the weakest ones are unfortunately not going to make it to the faction."

"Wait, what?" you spoke up, making Jisung grab your wrist as a warning.

Hyunjin's eyebrow perked up as he walked to where you stood. "Y/N."

"Won't make it as in..?" you trailed of for him to finish.

"As in they won't be kept in the faction, they'll become factionless."

You scoffed. "This is ridiculous."

His eyes darkened. "Again, this is not my choice. If it was me, I wouldn't do such a thing, I'm not as cruel as you believe me to be."

"I never said you-"

"Dagger throwing. We're starting with that today." he cut you off.

Jisung's grasp on you loosened, but it didn't mean he was going to let you be just like this. He moved his head to your ear and whispered.

"You really have a death wish, don't you?"

You snickered. "Maybe."

He rolled his eyes at you, unimpressed at how you weren't taking this seriously. Jisung wanted you to stay, he knew and saw the potential in you. Plus, it did help that you were so nice to him.

"The goal is to throw it exactly where you want it to land." Hyunjin informed after you all positioned yourself in front of a target in the shape of a person. "I'll tell you a body part and you have to throw it at the exact spot. Let's start easy with the heart."

He did it once as an example before letting you try for yourselves. Easy... For him, yes, but you weren't sure if you could throw it far enough. Despite your extreme lack of assurance, you mimicked the motion he did and try your best to throw the dagger with enough strength. Visibly, this was not your strongest point. You did reach the target, but it landed on where the hip would be. Discouraged a bit, you still tried again. Lower stomach this time; improvement.

"Holy shit, look!" Jisung nudged you as he pointed to his own target.

As you saw that his dagger had landed on the chest, you high-fived him, not forgetting to slip in a small "good job". If Jisung was capable, that means it wasn't impossible. So you attempted it again. Stomach again; consistent at least.

"Y/N." you heard from behind you, a little too close to your liking.

"Yeah?" you said, turning around to come face to face with Hyunjin.

Damn, you had forgotten how pretty he is. Up close, you could see even the pores of his skin, a skin so smooth it made you mad. How was he able to keep it so clean in an environment like this? And his eyes, so obscure you could drown in them and yet, their slender shape brought a balance between beauty and fright.

"Your throw is good but you need to put more power into it." he commented before taking your forearm and bringing it further back to where you'd usually start. "Try again. Same method, but you gain momentum."

You let out a breath you didn't acknowledge you were holding back and looked back at your target. As he told you, you did the same move and you hit it. Right where he was asking you to hit, the heart. Just where Jisung had threw his own dagger as well. You squealed in pride, earning a smug huff from Hyunjin. As if he was saying "I told you so".

"I can see why he's the one teaching us." Seungmin said, impressed. "Good job, Y/N."

Next up was physical fighting. To start with, you were going to use punching bags as you would eventually move up to fighting each other. For this part, Changbin was the one to show you a few techniques. Meanwhile, Hyunjin sat in a corner as he observed the scene. To give you an idea on the aura he was projecting, he looked like a mafia boss watching his henchmen do his work.

"We'll start with that for today and add a couple of moves tomorrow. Go." Changbin finished instructing.

Jeongin was the first one to hit his own punching bag, meanwhile you decided to look around instead. By watching the others, you might be able to understand quicker how to position your body. Physical strength wasn't something you had to start with and it wouldn't hurt to not dare too much on your first attempt.

"Are you okay?" Jisung asked you, taking a small break.

You observed the sweat dripping on his face before nodding. "Are you okay?"

"This is hard but, I mean, it's our first time. I'll get the hang of it eventually, hopefully."

The worry in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by you but you presumed he wouldn't want to talk about it. You were quick to start attacking your own bag, going soft at first as you focused mostly on your moves.

The first month passed by so fast, you were barely getting used to your new lifestyle. Jisung was the one to wake you up every morning since your habit of sleeping in didn't leave you yet. He was also the one you got along with the most, unsurprisingly. You had your little routine every day : waking up, leaving for training, helping each other, joking around and complaining during your lunch break, training again, eating dinner with Seungmin and Jeongin, and finishing the day by hanging out at the rooftop of the main building.

"Let's do something else." you prompted as soon as you sat down in front of Jisung.

Cheeks already full of his meal, he almost choked at your sudden appearance. "What?" he asked once he finished his bite.

"Tonight, I want to explore more of this place."

Jeongin scoffed. "It's already a maze and you want to get lost even more? Count me out."

You rolled your eyes. "I wasn't suggesting it to you, anyway."

"Right, you're asking the scaredy cat instead." Seungmin sneered, earning a nudge from Jisung.

The latter cleared his throat before responding to you. "Maybe not tonight?"

"Please, Jisung! I like the rooftop but we see so many things from up there that we haven't even had the chance to discover yet."

"Because we will eventually during our training when accompanied by our trainers. That us much safer."

You pouted. "That's more boring, though. We'll have to follow their lead and we won't be free to see for ourselves."

Seungmin shook his head. "As if you follow their rules, anyway. Have you seen Hyunjin's death stare this morning? I thought he was about to boot you off to the factionless."

You deadpanned at him. "Thank me, you would've gotten shot with an arrow if it wasn't for me."

Looking at your wound on your shoulder, Jisung frowned. "That is another reason why you shouldn't explore tonight, this hasn't had the time to heal."

You shrugged. "I feel fine, and I saved Seungmin. Today is a good day."

"Good?" Jeongin scoffed out.

"Fine, you guys. Be lame but I'm going out tonight."

Stubborn should have been your middle name, there wasn't a better word to describe you. Jisung both adored and hated that about you. Every comment you made always put you through the most dangerous situations, especially with the trainers.

"You're gonna follow her, aren't you?" Jeongin said to Jisung as soon as you left the table.

"I'm tempted to but I shouldn't. She knows to defend herself so I can't say I need protect her. Plus, it would put me in trouble as well."

And so, just as you told your friends, you were off to go on your own, wandering the Dauntless grounds. It took everything in Jisung to not get up as well when he saw you leave.

You discreetly made your way up to the rooftop. As you already knew how to get there, you determined it would be a good start before going any further. Going there was easy : avoiding trainers and other people of the faction, making as little noise as you could, and getting to the rooftop without getting caught. You were used to it by now.

What you did not anticipate, however, was finding Hyunjin sitting exactly where you would be usually with Jisung, staring at the stars. Maybe your friends were right, you should have stayed at the dormitory tonight. You were starting to climb back down but Hyunjin's senses had definitely acknowledged your presence.

"Sneaking out again?" he said nonchalantly, not even bothering to look at you.

You stopped on your tracks and gulped. You didn't know if you were supposed to answer or act as if you hadn't heard to go on with leaving. You didn't have to think about that too much, though. Hyunjin finally took a look at you before nodding his head to the spot next to him. You still did not budge, too stunned from what was happening.

"Am I speaking to a wall, or...?"

Finally, you hurried to sit next to him, at a reasonable distance of course. Satisfied, he exhaled loudly before looking back at the sky.

"You do know I should ban you and your friend for coming here at night, right?" he spoke, his voice softer than usual.

"Why haven't you?"

"You're the two best of the group, it would be a terrible mistake doing so."

You snorted in disbelief. "Jisung, yes, but I'm far from being even good. I'm almost at the bottom."

He stared at you again, making you want to shit in your pants because, damn, the man was terrifying when looking at you. "You might not be physically the best, but you have the attitude and the character to survive."

It might have been the first time he complimented your behaviour. Heck, this was the first time ever he informed you it was a good attribute. If anything, you thought he despised you for being this way.

"Sure, you are a lot to handle." he continued. "But it gives me a challenge every day."

"Thank you?"

You seriously had no idea on how to respond to his comments. Other than your usual banters during training, this was the longest the both of you had ever talked.

"Don't let this go to your head, it doesn't mean I will go softer on you."

"I never-"

"You haven't treated this yet?" he said, cutting you off.

Turning his whole body to your direction, he pulled your arm closer to analyze the wound on your shoulder. You caught on he was referring to your very much infected shoulder but it didn't even hurt you that much.

"It's not hurting, I'll be okay."

Without speaking any more, he took you by the arm – your good one – and dragged you behind him as he walked to the stairs that led back inside. You didn't question him although you were a bit concerned on where he was taking you.

After a bit, you arrived in front of a door and Hyunjin took a key out of his pocket. Unlocking it, he turned the doorknob and revealed a room as big as the dormitory. One wall was solely windows and in the middle was a door leading to a balcony. A bed was messily standing in the corner while another corner was arranged to be some sort of bathroom.

"Make yourself comfortable, I'll go get the first-aid kit."

You were about to protest but he was quick to leave you on your own. So you did as told and sat on his bed, patiently waiting for him. In the meantime, you didn't miss out on observing how his room was. Rather than clumsy, it was nicely put together. He had a rack for his clothes that he had sorted by colors and styles next to couch that was very well-maintained considering the environment you were in. A few paintings were stored by the wall, almost as if he hadn't had the time to find a place for them.

"You really should have treated it right away, it goes real deep." Hyunjin almost nagged at you while sitting next to you.

"Well, the guy who did this must hate me a lot." you joked.

"I could've made it worse."

Without a warning, he pressed a cloth dripping with alcohol against your shoulder causing you to screech a little, squirming at the pain.

"Stop moving."

"Switch places with me and I'll tell you to stay still." you spat at him.

He rolled his eyes but continued to clean out your injury nonetheless. He finally removed the cloth and went on with wrapping your shoulder with gauze.

"Pretty." you let yourself slip out in a whisper.

Frowning at you, Hyunjin huffed. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." you hurried to reply, blushing in the process.

He didn't push it further and finished wrapping you up quickly. He told you to wait while he put his things back to his so-called bathroom and was quick to sit back with you.

"If you want to see the rest of the Dauntless grounds, I can take you."

Your eyes immediately got brighter. "Really?"

He chuckled, though not so much in a funny way. "I'm joking, you're not going unless we have training planned to be done outside. Today's my first and only warning about this."

You groaned. "You're such a fun killer." You stood up and walked to his door. "Fine, I won't do it again. But can I-"

"Rooftop is fine, yeah. Now leave."

Just as he had told you, Hyunjin planned a training game outdoors only a few weeks after your interaction. You didn't dare to tell your friends about it, scared Hyunjin would make your life a nightmare for it. Although he had shown himself to be more humane than you originally thought, he hadn't dropped his cold behaviour just yet. You were determined to find what he was hiding behind it. If you managed to see a glimpse of it, you were convinced you could see it all.

"Are we even on the same team?" Jeongin asked while you were all getting your weapons ready on the moving train.

"We don't know that." Seungmin answered. "I think they're made on the spot."

"It only adds to the fun, if you want my opinion." you cheered but Jisung was definitely not thinking the same.

"Y/N, are you kidding? It stresses me out. What if I'm all alone and you guys are together? Are you going to shoot me?"

You laughed at him. "You'll be fine, and yes, I will definitely shoot you."

"I hate you."

"I love you too."

Jisung smiled awkwardly at that, and it didn't go unnoticed by his two other friends. You two were not strangers to jokes of that sort but Jisung almost wished you wouldn't say it for sarcastic purposes. He liked you, you were his safe home ever since he changed factions.

"Okay, people!" Changbin said, too loud to your liking. "Hyunnie and I are going to be team captains."

"Don't call me that." Hyunjin said in disgust but the older guy totally ignored him.

"The game is Capture-the-flag which should be known by all of you. Each team protects a flag and the first to steal the other's wins. Hyunjin, why don't you start with picking your teammates?"

The man in question shook his head. "You do the honours, Binnie."

"Alright." he said in a chuckle. "Squirrel guy, you're with me."

Jisung, confused, pointed at himself and looked at you for confirmation. After finally understanding he was first picked, he smiled widely and joined Changbin's side.

"Y/N." Hyunjin said with no hesitation, surprising everyone.

"Going with the weak ones?" Changbin joked.

"I like a challenge."

It reminded you of what he told you that night. A challenge, uh. Whether it was to mock you or tease you, you liked the sound of it but just a little bit.

Jeongin and Seungmin were picked to go on Changbin's team so Jisung had no uncertainties about being alone anymore. His main worry consisted of you being stuck with the detached trainer. He didn't like Hyunjin, not a single thing about him reassured him.

Just before the game started, he sent you a smile with a wink as support and comfort to which you blushed a little. Nonetheless, your teams spread apart through the woods and abandoned buildings. Having been assigned as a seeker for the other team's flag, you lost no time in moving away from your teammates. You kept yourself on the low, bending down as you walked around carefully, making sure you weren't making too much noise.

"That's your first instinct? Walking towards the opposite team without even knowing where they are hiding their flag?" you heard someone scoff at you.

You couldn't even see properly as it was nighttime, you could even less determine where the sound was coming from. Your heartrate began to rise as the stress of not knowing who was speaking to you took over you. Discreetly, you crouched down even more and attempted to hide behind a torn down wall. Even then, it wasn't as subtle as you had hoped it to be. In a matter of seconds, someone grabbed your arm and pulled you close to them. With no hesitation, you stepped hard on their foot and punch them on the pelvic area.

"Fuck, Y/N!" you heard the man groan. And somehow, you only then came to the realization this was Hyunjin.

"I'm so so-"

"Whatever." he shut you up in a raspy voice. "If anything, this shows me you have been practicing combat fight."

You acquiesced even though he probably couldn't see you. "Need help?"

He finally straightened his posture, trying not to show too much his pain. "No, you've done enough. Now, why were you going straight to them instead of trying to find the flag?"

You frowned in confusion. "Can't I find it when I get there?"

"They could've hid it anywhere. Come with me." he ordered you around as he began to walk away.

You didn't move a single muscle and stood still. There was no way you were going to be treated this way by him.

"Y/N!" he called for you.

And it was what it took for you to give in and follow him. He was heading the opposite way to where you were originally walking to. For a moment, you started to doubt yourself for trusting his instinct this easily. That was until you spotted a tower that stood high in sky.

"What are we doing here?" you finally spoke after walking in silence.

"Higher grounds are what you need to look out for if you were to search for something or analyze a place before taking any action. You can see everything from up there." he explained while tossing branches away that were blocking the access to the ladder. "We'll go up until we are high enough to see what's happening on their side."

He immediately hopped on the ladder, climbing it with no difficulty whatsoever. You watched him, baffled and nervous. Heights were not a fear of yours, but climbing what seemed to being an unstable ladder in the middle of the night was nothing close to reassuring. You stuck with watching Hyunjin go higher, looking around from time to time in case someone was to suddenly appear.

"Y/N!" he yelled from where he was the moment he understood you weren't behind him. "What are you doing?"

"Someone's got to stay on the lookout, no?" you answered, embarrassed.

With a heavy sigh, he began to climb down. Luckily, he hadn't gone too far so it took only a minute to come back on the ground. Once he was facing you, Hyunjin crossed his arms in front of his torso as he stared down at you. You were reminded, once again, of his tall figure as you were feeling so small.

"I thought you weren't afraid of heights."

"I'm not." you confirmed.

"Why weren't you climbing, then?"

You gulped and started to search for your words. Never were you this nervous in front of him. Was it because of the ladder or because of the proximity between the two of you? Either way, you weren't capable of letting a single sound out of your mouth.

He sighed again but loosened his posture. "Go before me, I'll be behind you in case anything happens."

You blinked slowly, not fully understanding what he said. Still, you walked to the ladder and started to make your way up. The bars weren't as fragile as you expected them to be, which was a good sign. As you were getting higher, you grew more confident. Perhaps, maybe a little too much.

In a swift and rapid motion, your foot had to slip. Thus, one of your hands let go of the bar and you were barely hanging there. Hyunjin was quick to join you and grab you by the waist, bringing you close enough to the bar so you could get a good grip on it again. Even if you were already secure again, he didn't let go of you just yet.

"Thanks." you murmured.

He cleared his throat as he let go of your body. "Be more careful, this could have cost your life."

Ignoring the feeling in the pit of your stomach, you continued to go up until you reached a platform. Slightly out of breath, you sat down to the side to leave a place for Hyunjin to sit as well. He copied your motion and began to detach his equipment from his suit. You looked at him curiously until he pulled out an electronic telescope, holding it out to you.

"What?" you asked obliviously.

He rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Really?"

Catching on what he was expecting from you, you took it and placed it on your eyes. You could easily zoom in and out and analyze the field. Not so far from your own spot, the building across had one room on a high floor that was filled with people chatting. You recognized, with no doubt, Seungmin's face as he was in charge with a couple of other people of protecting the flag.

"Got it. Can we go, now?" you asked, giving him back the telescope.

Hyunjin, however, was not focused one bit on what you were saying. His eyes were looking up the sky, taking a moment to observe each individual star that were on display. He was full of amazement, eyes glistening from the little amount of light the moon provided. You already thought he was pretty, but he was more than that at that point. He was ethereal, breathtaking.

"And to think there is a whole world to discover while we're here..." he spoke lowly, mostly to himself.

"What do you mean?"

His eyes tore away from the stars and went to you while he let a breath out. "Do you really not know what I mean?" Clueless, you shook your head which made him chuckle, but in a sad manner. "Y/N, do you know how the factions were formed?"

You nodded confidently. "It was created to prevent another war from breaking out, to keep everybody where they belong."

He chuckled again with a hint of discouragement this time. "I doubt you believe what they told you in those classes."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"This city, the factions, the rules... It's all keeping us out from what is happening outside."

You huffed. "But beyond the walls is-"

"Whatever they want us to believe."

A siren interrupted your talk, informing all the players that the game was nearing its end, meaning there wasn't much time left for you to steal the flag.

Hyunjin stood up on his feet and pulled out a wire with pulleys, not forgetting to attach them securely to the structure. Without saying a thing, he brought your body close to his as he firmly held onto you.

"Ready?"

"For what?"

He shrugged. "I guess you are."

Next thing you know, you were hanging in the air by a thread while Hyunjin was jumping down on the side of the tower's structure. You allowed yourself to yelp ever slightly causing Hyunjin to complain about it.

"Just get a good hold of me and you'll be fine."

"Easy for you to say."

"We're almost there, stop squirming around."

When you finally reached the ground, Hyunjin detached himself from the wires and the two of you ran towards the building where the flag was kept. He went in first, shooting every single players of the opposite side with no guilt whatsoever. Although these darts were only simulating the pain of real bullets, you felt bad for the poor initiates getting taken down by Hyunjin.

Too distracted by the show in front of you, you received a hard push behind your head, falling on the floor automatically. You spun around to stop whoever was attacking you only for your heart to drop.

Jisung was on top of you, breathing heavily, his weapon ready to slash you.

This was a game, you had to remind yourself of that. But the sight of him ready to hurt you simply broke you. A tear slipped out of his eye against his will, falling directly onto your face.

"Y/N, I-"

He couldn't finish his sentence, and fell on you as he groaned in pain. Hyunjin stood behind with his gun pointed to Jisung. Quickly, he helped you get away from underneath your friend. As he was leading you upstairs, you looked back at Jisung with sadness. It took a harsh tug from Hyunjin for you to come back to your senses and walk up the stairs.

And there, you won the game.

Three weeks in itself isn't long. Three weeks without Jisung felt like an eternity. While fighting during the game, he had hit his head so hard that the pain of the dart was all it took to completely knock him out. And out was he... He had barely reacted to your voice when you were visiting him, which was every day. The more time passed, the more concerned you were getting. Seungmin and Jeongin stopped by from time to time but not nearly as much as you.

"He'll be alright." Jeongin tried to reassure you.

Your gaze was still on your friend's limp body while you shook your head no. "Weeks worth of coma caused by a simple hit on the head is very worrisome, Innie."

"You know Jisung, he's a fighter."

"Sure."

Giving up, the younger boy decided it was better to leave you alone. At the door, Hyunjin observed the scene from afar, mainly focusing on you. While your physical abilities were improving, he was afraid it wasn't the case for your mental state. As Jeongin gave him a simple nod while leaving the room, he decided to try to talk you out of staying there all night, again.

"There's a party tonight."

"So I've heard." you responded rather harshly.

"You should go."

"No."

Hyunjin sat right across from you. "He won't magically wake up if you sit there all night."

You decided to look at him, daggers in the eyes. "You should be glad I'm still talking to you, you're part as to why he's still like this."

"The darts stimulate pain, they don't affect the body in any way." he explained for what seemed to be the hundredth time to him.

"How can you be sure of that?"

"They were designed for that."

You hummed. "Maybe they want us to believe that." you replied, taking his words from that night at the tower.

You saw his jaw clench before he stood up. "I'm sorry he's not awake yet but I sure hope you learn how to stop being a coward."

Slamming the door behind him, Hyunjin was fuming. Not because you spoke to him in a rude manner, more because he felt like you had shut yourself down completely from him. Just as he was starting to understand you, your way of being.

"You think he'll cut you off for that?"

Jisung's voice took you back in immediately and you sighed in relief when you noticed his eyes slowly opening. You didn't hesitate to throw yourself into his arms, even if it was hurting him a bit. After breaking apart, you didn't forget to punch his arm to which he fake-cried.

"You asshole! You scared the shit out of me!"

Still wincing, he rubbed the spot where you had just hit him. "I didn't know you loved me this much, should I be honoured?" This earned another push from you and he understood this was his sign to stop messing around.

"I missed you." you pouted.

"I know." he chuckled. "How long was I out?"

"Three weeks."

His eyes widened, even bigger than usual. "Almost a whole month?" he whispered to himself and then looked at you with fear. "Am I... you know... at the bottom?" he dared to ask.

But your smile was enough for him to feel relieved. "I made sure Hyunjin kept you up since it was partially his fault."

"The darts don't even-"

"Nuh, uh." you shushed him. "Thank me instead."

"Thank you my beloved Y/N."

"My pleasure." you said with a proud smile.

A comfortable silence set in. However, Jisung still had one thing that bugged him. And in all honesty, it still bugged you as well. It was as if none of you dared to bring it up first. So, Jisung gathered all of his courage and broke the ice.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

You smiled weakly. "I know."

"But..." he encouraged you to go on.

"But it terrified me." you admitted.

He took both of your hands, holding them together with his. "I swear I didn't even recognize you from behind. And I'm sorry I stayed on you too long, I was in shock with myself. I... I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I actually hurt you."

You brought him in an embrace, holding him close. "I know you didn't mean it. We're good, don't worry."

He exhaled in relief before hugging you back. You were the only one he fully trusted, he would never allow himself to do something like this ever again, he would make sure of it.

"I heard Hyunjin talk about some sort of party?"

You nodded. "To congratulate us for making it to the next phase."

"Already? Wow... But I missed out on some stuff."

"You were at the top three, they know you're well-qualified."

After making sure Jisung was stable enough to participate at the said-party, it took you no more than a couple of minutes to get ready and join the crowd in the basement. Music was playing loudly but it didn't stop the other initiates to take notice of a very much awake Jisung. You let him go with his other friends to catch up and went by yourself to get a drink. Now you were in the mood to celebrate.

Chan was present to see how things were progressing apparently, but you believed it was because this was an opportunity for him to let it loose for once. From what you've heard, this man never took a break. He was being pretty relax in the company of Changbin and Seungmin. If your friend was going to befriend the leader of the faction, you surely were happy to be on his good side.

"Want me to introduce him to you?"

You jumped up when you noticed Hyunjin next to you. For a second, you forgot to breathe. Both because he scared you and because of how goddam good he looked. This evening was full of people dressed in rather classier attires so it made sense he was going to choose an outfit accordingly. Still, it didn't prevent you from being speechless of the sight of him. His dark locks weren't tied anymore and they fell perfectly on the sides of his face. He still had his combat boots but they were completing the look of his black jeans and his loose buttoned shirt. It might have been the first time you saw him wearing any kind of jewellery.

"So?"

You shook yourself off your thoughts and shook your head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Chan is a young good-looking guy, I can understand why he'd catch your attention."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Are you saying I am interested in him?"

"Why wouldn't you be?"

Taking a sip of the alcoholic drink he had, you couldn't stop yourself from checking him out once more. His Adam's apple bopped up as he swallowed, showing off all of his veins. Was he doing this purposely?

"He's the leader."

He let out a laugh. "It doesn't mean he's off limit."

"Sir, I'm 21 years old and he's, what, 30?"

"26, actually."

"Almost had it."

You exchanged a laughter, weirdly enough. Although your previous altercation was, well, unpleasant, you felt rather at ease with him. Their was this silent agreement to not bring it up or start one of your regular quarrels.

"I was looking at him because I was wondering why Seungmin was with them."

"Ah." Hyunjin simply said, drinking more of the alcohol afterwards. "And why do you think they're all together?"

"No clue."

He laughed again. "Does it matter why?"

"I'm just curious."

"I've noticed."

You gasped in surprise, although sarcastic. "Our trainer Hyunjin noticing me? I must be dreaming!"

"Hwang Hyunjin." he revealed. "That's my full name if that helps your very convincing statement."

"Hwang." you repeated. "Are you, by any chance, related to a Yeji? She's a Candor and her last name is Hwang."

He gave you a smirk and drank again. You were growing annoyed at his constant sipping, especially since he was now using it to stall.

"My cousin." he informed.

"What a small world."

He scoffed. "I told you, there is one much bigger to discover."

"And here you go again with your nonsense."

"Me? Y/N, the only one between us who is full of nonsense is you."

You glared at him, taking it very personally. "Pardon me?"

He put his glass on the counter for a refill, as well as yours. You didn't notice you had finished it. "You're hard to read, it's frustrating."

"Okay, creep."

While you found yourself to be hilarious, he was definitely not of the same opinion. He drank again and set his glass aside to come closer to you, as if he wasn't close enough already. "I can see through everyone, but you, you confuse me."

You felt your breath hitch. "You aren't easy to decipher either."

"I know, but I do it purposely. You don't."

Looking over his shoulder, you caught a glimpse of Jisung making his way through to crowd towards you. You weren't necessarily happy he was coming to your rescue but you were glad at the same time. Knowing him, however, you felt like something bad was about to happen.

"Hyunjin." he said, putting his hand on the man's shoulder. "Can I steal Y/N from you for a second?"

Hyunjin glanced at Jisung's hand with what resembled anger but he said nothing, leaving with his drink to go elsewhere. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and chugged down your own beverage before asking for another refill.

"Woah, there." Jisung said as he pushed your drink away from your mouth.

You pouted. "One more."

"I think you need to sit down."

Leading you to a corner that was quieter, he sat down with you on a couch without forgetting to bring you a bottle of water. Growing worried, he patted your bag while you drank the liquid.

"What happened back there?"

You shrugged. "I don't know." You looked around for a moment and spotted the tattoo section. "Oh, should I get one?"

"Okay, the night is over for you."

He helped you up while you argued you were fine. You were right in some way, you weren't totally drunk. Because of your talk with Hyunjin, however, the confusion got the best of you which only worsened your state.

Walking among the sea of people, Jisung was still holding onto you firmly to not lose you. You were almost at the exit. Only, there had to be someone to stop the two of you. Standing next to the hallway that led to the dormitory, Hyunjin looked at you curiously.

"Is she okay?" he asked your friend.

"She would have been better if it wasn't for you."

Baffled by Jisung's claims, he scoffed. "I didn't do anything."

"You refilled her drink, did you drug her?"

Hyunjin stepped closer to Jisung, towering him. "You really think I would do something like this?"

You put your hand in front of the two men, pushing them away from one another. "Guys, no one drugged anybody."

"I would've cut you out of the group if it wasn't for her. Instead of accusing me of something I didn't do, focus on your attitude or I will definitely boot you out."

"Hyunjin." you tried to catch his attention but nothing.

"I will respect you the day you stop harassing my friend."

"Harassing?"

You knew by then there was nothing you could do that would calm either of them. As they continued to bicker, you stepped away in fear it would get physical eventually. And as predicted, Jisung was the first to throw the punch. He received the same before he took Hyunjin by the collar, pushing him up against the wall. Soon later, the attention of the whole group was on them, including Chan's.

You were more than relieved when he rushed to take Jisung away from the trainer, who had then been tackled on the floor. Both of their clothes were stained with blood as their wounds were fresh. While Jisung was taken away by Chan and Changbin to wherever, Hyunjin sat up, wincing at the pain.

While you were dying to be by Jisung's side to check on him, especially since he had just woken up from a coma, getting dragged away by the faction's leader meant he was off-limit for now. So, you rushed to Hyunjin's side and helped him up before you took him away from everyone. You tried to remember where his room was but it went blank in your mind.

"Uh, where is your room?" you asked shyly, a bit uncomfortable to be asking him anything while he was this injured.

"Fourth level, end of the hallway."

You decided that the elevator was more appropriate than the stairs. Once you reached his level, he took out his key for you to open his room. You got him to lay in his bed and then went to look for his first-aid kit.

"First cabinet, last shelf." he indicated in a weak voice as he noticed you were struggling to find it.

"Got it."

You made yourself comfortable next to him, close to his face as it was where it had the most damage. The once-perfect skin he has was painted with blood and cuts all over. While you understood why Jisung did so, you still couldn't believe he who caused this. Ignoring the thought, you focused on applying alcohol directly onto the wounds and he winced and grunted in pain. You whispered an apology, feeling truly bad for making him suffer even more. You were quick to move on and start wrapping him up with bandages, not forgetting to clean the spots where some blood had dried up.

You felt his eyes on you but acted as if you didn't see that. But at some point, it became too intense to ignore.

"What?" you said, still cleaning his forehead.

"I'll tell them to keep Jisung."

You finally stared back at him. "He attacked you."

"And I did push too far with you earlier, I have to admit."

"You don't have to defend him."

You were following the blood stain to remove it but soon realized it wasn't just on his forehead or his jaw. One was coming form his cheek all the way down past his neck. As he seemed to understand that as well, he began to unbutton his shirt.

"No." you said right away, grabbing his hand to stop him.

"I can do it myself if you don't want to..."

Even his voice had some discomfort in it. Nonetheless, you encouraged him to go on and, hesitantly, he slowly unbuttoned all the way down and removed his shirt entirely. You had an idea that he was toned because of how physical he had to be on a daily basis. Despite knowing that, you were left breathless by the view. Toned, yes, but his muscles were standing out so much even if his figure was quite slender. What you hadn't imagined he would have were the dozens of scars all over his torso.

Without thinking, your hand moved to go over each one of them, touching them so slightly that he could barely feel it. "Wow."

Hyunjin's face get redder and redder, not because he was bleeding out. "The... uh... You can- I-"

You blinked a couple of times before your concentration was back on getting rid of the stains on his skin. You did it rather fast, mostly because you were embarrassed by your own actions. Who would touch their superior like this?

He thanked you before taking a random shirt that was laying on his bed and put it on. While you were packing the kit up to put it back in its place, he closed his eyes while breathing in and out. While he still felt horrible, your presence made it ten times better. Even if you were only standing a few feet away, doing nothing.

"Can I ask a question?" you said as soon as you came back.

"You asked one now."

You huffed, stunned he was being annoying despite his physical status. "Right... Uh, I don't want to seem noisy but..."

"The scars?" he finished for you, opening his eyes.

"Yes."

He thought for a moment, probably debating whether he should tell you or not. After a couple of seconds, he finally spoke up. "Being a Dauntless born has its downsides, let's say."

This wasn't good enough of an answer for you. Sure, you now learned his birth faction but this didn't tell you how he got these marks. A bit frustrated with that, you jumped on the other side of his bed, legs crossed.

"Can I see them again?"

He stared at you, bewildered. "Wh-what?"

"Can I?"

He would've said no, and he knew that's what he should've said. But something bigger than him was telling him to trust you. It was a part of his life that was so personal and sensitive to bring up for him. But he took off his shirt again as you did the same as earlier, inspect one scar after the other. You are pretty, he noted. The crease created between your brows was adorable, you were too focused to take notice you were doing that.

"Was it your parents?"

"Something like that."

Your eyes moved up to meet his. "Your trainers?"

His simple heavy breath told plenty to you. Determining you weren't going to push it more, you simply nodded and continued to look at his imperfections. As much as they were many, they added so much beauty to him, more than he had to begin with.

"I think I should go now." you whispered.

"Yeah."

And alone he was again, only seconds after being this intimate with you.

Jeongin couldn't help but pace the floor as he was waiting for his turn to do the first psychological test. Although these were only practices, the idea of having to face his fears distressed him. Having enough of it, you stood up to grab him by the shoulders to stop him.

"Innie, breathe."

The youngest shook his head vigorously. "You saw how Jisung was when he came out of there."

"Jisung is naturally a scaredy cat. This is made especially for dealing appropriately with fears and yours aren't so bad. You'll do great."

Almost on cue, Seungmin came out of the room with his face deprived from all its colour. Lifelessly, he sat next to you before leaning on you.

"Sure, I'll do great." Jeongin huffed out, gesturing to Seungmin as if he had proven his point.

It didn't take long for his name to get called and, a minute later, yours. When you stepped inside, the seat placed in the middle reminded you of the setup for your aptitude test. For once since a few weeks, the image of your brother popped in your mind, very vividly. How was Felix doing? Was it as hard to adapt as it had been for you? Was he well-surrounded? Did he find Minho? He must have. You would question things if he hadn't.

"Mrs. Lee." Hyunjin said as he motioned for you to take a seat.

"Using last names all of the sudden, Hwang?"

He gave you a stern look. "Please, sit while I prepare everything."

Unwilling to listen to him, you still did as told. The sooner you were going to be over with all this, the better.

"My last one was Han and he didn't react very well. I assure you, this is normal as it is your first time. Now, I can see everything you will see through this monitor here. If I notice any sign of panic, I will unplug you right away. Questions?"

You stared at him blankly, unbothered by his instructions and warnings. "Nope, all good."

He let out an elongated sigh. "Y/N, can you be a bit more cooperative?"

"Just give me the shot."

Despite his discontent with your attitude, he gave you the shot which transported your mind to a whole new environment. The first of your fears was the void. Evidently, you were in nowhere in particular. Just floating. All of the sudden, you started to perceive a light from afar. As this must be your next fear to face, you tried to reach it.

Until you realized you were not able to move forward. Or move at any direction for that matter. You felt your heart beat faster as panic slowly crept on you. Of course you knew this was the purpose of this test but you couldn't help it. That was until your mind began to reason itself in its own. This isn't real, you told yourself. With that in mind, you calmed down a little and observed your surrounding. Surely, there was a solution to your issue. Instead of imagining yourself in the void, you changed it into water. Now you could swim.

Congratulating yourself mentally, you swam towards the light, getting closer by the second. Reaching it, you could make out that it wasn't just light, it was an exit. Going up to the surface, you were surprised to arrive at what seemed to be a field of flowers. Confused, you assumed something else would come along. That is only if you could get out of the hole. The exit had shrunk significantly, making it nearly impossible to get away. Your second fear: getting stuck without being able to set yourself free. Once again, the panic attack came back. Only this time, you could feel it was worse than earlier. Trying every position possible, you still couldn't move by an inch. Growing discouraged, your breaths were more uneven, heavier...

Until you reminded yourself that none of this was real. And so, you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and pushed yourself up. Just like that, you out, safe and sound. It didn't last long as an army of bees came flying right towards you. Logically, you began to run from it. The field of flowers had no place where you could hide of capture them. How the hell were you going to get away now? Right, this is all in your mind. Stopping on your tracks, you closed your eyes and imagined butterflies instead of bees. It was only a few seconds later that the buzzing stopped. Slowly opening your eyes, you were greeted by field full of butterflies flying around.

Having being unplugged, you were pulled back to reality in an instant as you gasped for air. Hyunjin was still looking at the monitor, deep in thoughts.

"What the hell?"

"Shhh." he told you off.

You crossed your arms, rather unhappy that he interrupted your test for whatever stupid reason he had. He was playing back your test over and over again, you began to think he was simply obsessed with how smart you were.

"You're different."

"I'd say I'm logical, but sure."

Hyunjin grunted out of frustration. "Stop that. None of the things you did were Dauntless-like behaviours."

You frowned. "And that means..?"

"You're divergent, aren't you?"

Your body froze. There was no way he would know. How could he? Only from a test like this?

"I don't know what that is."

He huffed a chuckle. "Don't lie to me."

"I swear I have no clue what divergent means."

He scrutinized your face in search of any sign you weren't telling the truth. However, you were good at this game and you were not going to let him win.

"Alright. What were your results?" he ended up asking.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The aptitude test, what did you get?"

"Erudite." you answered in a second.

"No, what were they really?"

"Erudite."

He bit his bottom lip, getting visibly impatient with you. "You're lying."

"For fuck's sake! It's Erudite, I'm telling you."

His gaze stayed on you for a bit, too long to your liking. In the end, he dismissed you without questioning any more. You were glad he did but at the same time, you were getting worried as if he was about to tell on you to Chan. He had the power to do that, after all.

"Told you, it's traumatizing." Jeongin said as soon as he spotted you.

You smiled and nodded in agreement, hiding any other expression. "Yeah, you were right."

Jisung laughed uncontrollably while you were almost to the point of crying. You didn't even remember what made you laugh so hard but his laugh itself was plenty to make you cackle nonstop. Ever since the incident at the party, you two had been getting along incredibly well. Chan decided to keep him in under the condition he behaved, and he did. Most importantly, his attitude was more positive than ever. He showed himself as confident and proud, and also very funny. A side of him you had yet not discovered. Until now.

"Y/N?" he said after you had gotten over your laughter.

"Jisung?"

"I like you."

You sneered. "I know."

"No, uh... I meant it as in, I think I have feelings for you."

You thanked the universe that it was night so he could barely see your reaction. A blushing mess you were. You certainly didn't expect a normal night out on the rooftop to turn into a confession, even less from Han Jisung. Did you like him too? Maybe?

"Ji, I-"

"Guys." a voice you, now, recognized so easily interrupted you.

Jisung would've punched Hyunjin right there and there for ruining the moment but he had rules to follow. As the older man nodded his head to the staircase, he understood this was his cue to leave. Only him.

"We'll talk about it later?" he told you before going.

Only you and Hyunjin now. The subject of what happened after the party still had no been brought up, even less the discussion that happened during your test. It was killing you inside that both these topics had not been cleared out, especially the last one considering its gravity.

He was the first to speak, asking you to come to his room. You didn't protest and you headed to the said-place in complete silence. It was better like this, you couldn't see yourself do some small talk while fully knowing there was an elephant in the room that wasn't being addressed.

After he closed the door, he walked right up to his balcony, implying that you had to do the same. Leaning on the metal bars, he finally took a look at you. You straightened your back, starting to feel intimidated.

"You lied, didn't you?"

There was something about his room that made things seem simpler than what they were. Unconsciously, you acquiesced without a doubt but quickly panicked.

"I lied that it was Erudite." you tried to justify, thinking you could save yourself by stating another faction. "It was actually-"

"Divergent." he finished for you. "You are all of the factions, not just one."

"Hyunjin, please don't tell Chan."

He cocked his head to the side. "Why would I tell him? What would it change, anyway?"

"I was told that it can... that I'm not wanted." you kept it simple.

He turned around to observe the view, completely ignoring your answer. Unsure of what to do next, you walked up next to him, mimicking his actions. It stayed like this for a while, until he spoke again.

"That's why I couldn't read you. You are brutally honest but so gentle at the same time. You think of others before yourself. You think of stuff so clever that the test doesn't even work on you, and you dare to do whatever you decide to do even if you don't know what will happen."

You weren't sure if you had to say something to that but him talking again answered that doubt real quick.

"You can't do your test like you did today in front of the faction leaders or they will know."

"Why?"

He chuckled. "You turned nothing into water, bees into butterflies. You slipped out of a hole that was supposed to be impossible to get out of. Y/N, these are not ways a Dauntless would think."

"Alright, sure. How am I supposed to confront my fears, then?"

He hesitated, not knowing if his plan was good or not. You weren't the first Divergent he helped but your personality and mind was stronger than what he had dealt with before. You were a tricky case.

"Meet me at the test room tomorrow morning. I'll show you an example."

"I'll be there."

"Good."

You both focused back on the view. That was settled at least but it didn't mean the awkwardness was totally gone. You thought of ways to bring up the weird tension you had, none seemed appropriate. Was it better if you simply straight up tell him you want to know more about his past? Or should you start with bringing up the way you felt when touching his skin? You weren't sure if you even wanted to bring it up anymore. Maybe you should leave now.

Seeing you turn on your heels to reach his front door, the only thing that Hyunjin could think of was how much he would regret not holding you back.

"Try again." Hyunjin instructed after seeing you now controlling the bees instead of doing what you were supposed to.

"If you told me what to do, we would have been done with it by now." you argued.

"You have to find it out by yourself, try again."

You groaned, getting sick of going through the same fear over and over again. Not only because you were actually getting scared but also because it was repetitive. In Hyunjin's opinion, you weren't thinking like a Dauntless just yet. Restarting for the nth time, you started out by waiting for the point pf light to get bigger instead of trying to go after it. Once you were able to reach it, you tried climbing out of it but got stuck. As you did on a previous attempt, you grabbed a stick nearby and dug the hole to make it larger, letting yourself free.

Now, the bees. This was the bit you couldn't figure out. You tried befriending them but they stung you anyway. You tried getting them sucked in the flowers. You even tried to eat them. At that point, you were desperate for Hyunjin's help but he still refused to give you any guidance.

"Y/N, think for a second. What do you when a bee lands on you?"

You assumed he was growing annoyed himself as he finally gave you some sort of hint. Obviously, the right way to respond in this situation was to stay calm. He couldn't believe you didn't figure it out.

"Onto the next fear." he sighed.

The setting morphed into an empty room where there was nothing. Well, almost nothing. In front of you, there were your brothers standing next to each other and they both had something in their grasp that horrified you. They were holding guns point at you. You haven't been aware any of your fears involved your family. Maybe the change of faction did have an effect on you.

"Who are they?" Hyunjin asked.

Even though you were shaking quite a lot, you answered nonetheless. "Minho and Felix. My brothers."

You had to have a reasoning according to your bravery, not any other aspect. With that in mind, you grabbed both guns and twisted them around to unarm your brother before aiming at their heads in your turn. You immediately shot them, not wanting to deal with the internal heartache you had.

Gasping for air, you were back in the test room with Hyunjin, tears streaming down your face.

"How are you holding up?"

There was all the care in the world in his simple question. You would have answered truthfully but what you were experiencing at the moment was overwhelming.

"Good, I'm all set for the final test. Wait for the light, dig a hole, stay calm and shoot. Easy-peasy. Thank you, Hwang."

Storming out of the room, there was one place you had in mind that could truly ease your thoughts and emotions.

Home.

Obviously, you didn't have a home in itself per say. Still, you really needed the reassurance of seeing them well and alive. Beyond the fact you were aware mixing with other factions was not allowed unless there was a legal necessity, you really didn't care.

You had never seen the Erudite area up so close, even less their main headquarters. You recalled Minho mentioning he was hoping to obtain a position there for work so this was your best chance to find him. Unsurprisingly, people around were staring at you weirdly as you definitely didn't fit in. You felt self-conscious for an instant but tried to shake the feeling off as you were arriving at the front desk. The woman glanced up at you before working on her computer again.

"Name, reason for visit?"

You smiled awkwardly as you were not sure what you were supposed to say. She waited for you to talk but since no words were coming out from your part, she was quick to dismiss you.

You would have left if you weren't so desperate. "No, ma'am. I'm actually meeting up with someone named Lee Minho."

"I see... Name?"

She started to type and you lowkey panicked. That was until your spotted Felix from afar, by some sort of miracle. Sighing in relief, you called him out and the moment he spotted you, he ran towards you.

"Y/N, what the fuck are you doing here?" he almost yelled, earning a stern glare from the receptionist. "This is my sister, she's with me."

The woman nodded reluctantly but let the two of you go. Felix brought you up to his office to not bring so much attention to you. You were happy to see he had settled just fine in his new home, from what it looked like.

"I'll call Minho over. He's been asking a lot about you." your twin chuckled before sending a message to your sibling. It took you aback that Minho was even aware you existed. Your childhood relationship was never good. "What are you doing here?"

You laughed sheepishly and cleared your throat. "It hasn't been the easiest adapting and..." you trailed off.

"Hey, it's okay." he tried to reassure you. "To be honest, it's been hell for me as well."

You sensed that something was off, a feeling you would usually never have towards him. Felix was a bright and ambitious person who always had no difficulty in fitting in.

"Did you come here because of mom and dad?"

He avoided your stare and fiddled with his rings, visibly distressed by your question. To his luck, a knock was heard from the door. Not bothering to wait for someone to open it for him, Minho walked in and his eyes fell upon you immediately.

"I thought Lix was joking." he laughed incredulously while coming up to hug you. "And I thought he lied about you going to Dauntless. Who would have thought?"

"I'm not so weak anymore." you rolled your eyes, breaking away from him.

Even if it felt weird to be the three of you together again, it was plenty to calm you down from the experience you've had. Minho had matured, physically but in personality too.

"What can we do for you?" he questioned after you were done with your little reunion.

"I'm just having some issues with adapting, that's all. And I missed you two."

The older man snorted. "Sure."

You deadpanned at him. "I'm serious. The initiation there has been killing me inside. We've started the psychological trials and things have been hard."

Felix now had his full attention on you. "I've heard about it. Some don't make it past this phase."

"Yeah, it's hardcore. I had a test this morning."

Minho caught onto what you were avoiding to say explicitly. "One of your fears is us?"

"Not you exactly. More the action you make."

Your twin exhaled loudly. "Wow, okay. Are you sure you want to go on with all this?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Come here with us."

You scoffed. "No thank you. You, yourself, don't want to be here."

Once again, Felix looked away shamefully and didn't dare to speak any more. To diffuse the atmosphere, Minho changed topics and informed you about how it was for him when he entered Erudite. Not that it wasn't interesting but your situation was too different from his. Not a single thing he mentioned was relevant to how it was going for you.

"But I have to say, Felix joining in was a huge relief."

"It wasn't my first choice." the younger man said, taking the opportunity to finally admit it. "My results were Abnegation."

The two of you exchanged looks with sympathy. "It's okay." you smiled.

Minho huffed. "You lied, wow. I'm both impressed and confused."

"Come on, Min. Mom and dad would have never approved of this."

"I know that but after you change factions, they have no say in what you do with your life. I'm certain they weren't thrilled when you chose Dauntless."

He did make a good point. But for Felix, it was too late. The main thing about Abnegation is selflessness, and it was that very characteristic that cost him to not pursue his real calling. You felt a lot for him, even more so because yourself weren't sure if you made the right choice.

"You can't stay for much longer, people will question things." Minho reminded you. "If someone asked, you were called for a new technology testing and that it's confidential."

You agreed for them to walk you out just to be certain you were safe until that point. What you didn't expect was to see Jisung standing right in front of the building, anxiously looking around. After parting ways with your brothers, you ran up to him.

"Jisung?"

The moment he spotted you, you could see the relief he felt. "Don't scare me like that! Hyunjin told me you ran away and sent me to find you."

You questioned yourself as to why the trainer didn't come himself if he was the one concerned. Besides that, you were touched Jisung had taken upon himself to search for you.

"I needed to figure some stuff out with my brothers."

You walked back to the training building just it was time for dinner. However, you weren't so hungry. You insisted for Jisung go eat without you even if he tried to convince you to tag along, having other plans in mind. The weather was perfect to enjoy the fresh air, meaning the rooftop was a good place to relax.

You don't know how long you stayed there, there were too many thoughts in your heads that even the quiet sound of the wind was bothering you. Before you knew it, it was nighttime. Somehow, you weren't tired nor did you felt like you had to go back inside.

The noises were become more bothersome when you heard someone coming up. Now used to it, you replaced yourself more comfortably to leave the place next to you free. Hyunjin's tall figure came into your view and he made his way to sit with you.

"You didn't eat."

"Not hungry." you responded nonchalantly.

"Jisung told me you went to visit your brothers. How did it go?"

You looked at him suspiciously. "Aren't you going to nag at me for breaking rules again?"

"Sweetheart, I gave up doing that a while ago."

Your heart tightened from his words. Still, you pretended it wasn't. "It went well. It definitely helped with... Well, you know."

Silence set in once again. None of you spoke as you were too preoccupied your own thoughts. Hyunjin was having a crisis on whether he should confide in you or not. His own experience was something he believed to be horrifying. If you knew about it, maybe you'd be reassured. Settling on that, he still had no idea on how he'd bring up the subject. He still tried.

"My biggest fear is loneliness. I know it can be surprising considering that I am most of the time alone. Chan and Changbin are like brothers to me, you can't find better people." He paused for a second, thinking about how he was going to continue his mini-monologue. "I don't have siblings, nor do I have parents. They died when I was a baby still. This guy took custody of me and he was a trainer. I think he didn't know how to raise a child. I was the rebellious kind so I can't blame for getting mad at me so often but he marked me for life."

You understood he was referring to his scars, most likely punishments he had received in the past. Taking his forearm to stop him for telling you furthermore. Unbeknownst to him, small tears fell off his eyes. You rubbed his skin with your thumb as to say you were grateful that he trusted you to tell you something so personal. You both looked back at the sky, simply enjoying the company of the other. You couldn't comprehend how exactly you started feeling so safe with him. One thing for sure was that you had a mutual understanding of each other. Without saying it, you sensed his thoughts and he sensed yours. But there was one thought he had been having in mind for a while.

"What was your answer to Han?" he broke the silence.

"I haven't answered yet. I think I'll tell him that I need time."

"What is stopping you? You get along quite well." he commented but you didn't think this was a good reason to say yes.

"First of all, I don't think I see him like this. And second of all, well... I mean, there's you."

His gaze shifted from the scenery to you. You didn't see through him so well, he was a mix of so many emotions. His eyes were both hopeful and ashamed. Full of lust and full of pain. You couldn't pinpoint his exact reaction and it drove you crazy.

"I can't tell you that it's right." he finally replied. "But yes, there is me I suppose."

You had unconsciously stepped closer to him, so much that you could feel the warmth his body emitted. And again, the lighting from the moon hit his features so perfectly that you could see every single one of them. His eyes shined, his cheekbones as well, and his lips were so pink, it was almost like they were inviting you to be kissed. Gradually, your hands moved up to land on his upper arms. As for him, his own were positioning themselves to lay on the space between your jaw and your neck. You could see his face getting dangerously close to yours and it only intensified the electricity that was traveling all over your body. Just as your lips were about to touch, he stopped but didn't pull back.

"Are you sure?" he said lowly.

"Yes."

And your mouths clashed together. All of the tension that had built up until then exploded, so much it was nearly impossible to handle. But it was addicting. Soon, you realized staying outside probably wasn't a good idea. A bit in a rush, you headed back inside to go in his room.

Pushing you back inside, he careful led you both to his bed before carefully laying you down on your back. Moving down to kiss your neck, he left a trail of sloppy kisses on your jaw while his hands rubbed against your skin as they travelled down to grab onto your thighs. He squeezed them, hard enough to make you gasp but light enough to not hurt you.

"You've been driving me crazy." he said in-between kisses.

"You too."

He went on to grope your ass, causing to moan louder than you would've liked to. As for him, he grinned at the sound, visibly satisfied.

"Poor Jisung will never get to hear this."

You weren't totally there, your mind had too much to unpack there that you could answer. The kissing only continued, intensified. Panting heavily, you didn't know you could hold your breath for this long. Before you knew it, you were undressing each other while the moon still shined as brightly as ever.

You didn't understand the world you lived in. One thing was clear to you, Hyunjin was going to be by your side on your journey of discovering it all. There might not be in place for you in this city, but you had a place with him. You could settle for that.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin scenarios #divergent au #stray kids divergent au #hwang hyunjin divergent au #hwang hyunjin fanfic #skz x reader #skz scenarios

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toastess-with-the-mostess · 1 year ago

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Let's Rewind! Toast watches Voltron: Defender of The Universe (1984)

Season 1, Episode 15: Give Me Your Princess Season 1, Episode 16: Bridge Over The River Chozzerai

I'm attempting to do two episodes per post now! This will help me finish the show quicker and hopefully will make it more fun to watch

Episode 15 - Give Me Your Princess We start with Lotor quite literally asserting his dominance over his military as Commander, and immediately they're off to destroy Arus Also, this is where the obsession starts I guess, suddenly he's real interested in the princess

holy shit i cant believe he actually takes care of his hair

Oh we're already at this episode? Allura sneaks into black lion to learn to fly it in case of emergency, good plan but i always was annoyed that she thinks it HAS to be her when she's literally the most important person on the team, yknow being a princess and all

Ah yes a staple of the 80s "Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't do things boys can!" Obviously it was important for girls during that decade and it still is now but MAN is the way of showing girl power outdated as I'm watching this now more than 30 yrs later

Lion troubles, apparently Black lion is malfunctioning, but they try and fail to form Voltron as Lotor is actually competent LMAO Allura faints and black drops out of the sky

Lotor has a personal fighter, and it looks like a bat, how cool, Keith is currently trying to rip it apart since everyone thinks it's allura in blue and not him which makes lotor scram

Harem time, I guess that's why they pulled the sudden obsession this episode, all the harem girls are blonde and could easily be mistaken for Allura and the allura imagery all throughout this episode that I haven't been mentioning

hell yeah they're telling off allura for her sudden test drive of black and now her reason changes from "in case of emergency" to "if you go back to earth"

oh my god this just turned into a telenovela Especially with Keith guilt-tripping her by saying Sven wouldn't have almost cost them their lives, low blow keith

She tries to apologize to Keith but the words of the other 3 boys get to her and she walks off I'm actually kind of glad she takes their opinions seriously and isn't being relegated to "the leader's girl" also keith regrets being so harsh on her, even though he was right to reprimand her in general

Did nobody learn anything from the last time lotor was on arus and said he'd be willing to leave in peace? Allura he won't give up just because you give yourself to him, especially if he smacked keith in the face with a ROCK after he won their sword fight

Allura literally busts through the tower lotor left on arus and gives herself up, and then faints (again) because Lotor electrocuted the lion, I don't blame her for that one The boys go rescue her and i think i missed something because keith is hurt? He did go after the princess outside his lion so maybe he got shot and i missed it, anyway he's ass at flying and allura is protecting him in turn now

No robeast this episode, but voltron is still formed and takes down the rest of the spires that lotor left behind, plus a giant laser weapon Allura and Lance carry Keith in, apparently he was cut by lotors laser sword, go figure Nanny doesn't care, as per usual, but goes to get stuff for Keith once Allura tells her to

Everyone forgives each other, Allura apologizes for stealing black without permission and the boys apologize for being so rude when she just wanted to do some good, Allura cries (for like the third time) in joy after being told she's wanted to be kept on the team, so she shouldn't doubt it

/episode end

Episode 16: Bridge Over The River Chozzerai Apparently the kingdom Allura rules over is called Altair and another nearby kingdom is called Helena. They have a running legend together about two lovers who were each a part of one of the kingdoms, but it was a romeo and juliette esq romance because the kingdoms were enemies, so they built a bridge between the vliff that separated them to finally be together the princess is playing one of the lovers, while she wants one of the boys to play the other

"getting icky sticky in the middle" Lance McClain sHUT-

The boys minus Keith are fighting over the part, Keith ain't no simp and especially not one for Allura LMAO Keith "No, Thanks" Kogane is a mood, I wouldn't want to go out to a bridge ceremony either

Hunk wins because Pidge tries to get the mice to help him cheat at a card draw, and they purposefully mess him up Now they have more beef lol

What a cute dress, I wonder if this is a historical reenactment or actual fashion on Arus

Haggar's cat exists once again and sends word that Allura and Hunk are away from castle. Lotor starts heading to Arus, specifically for Allura ofc, and interrupts the two right before they embrace on the bridge Now there's a robeast and it splits the bridge in two while Lotor shoots the cliff where the bridge hangs, causing it to fall. Somehow Allura is on the unsunken parts of the bridge and Lotor takes the change to try and snatch her before Hunk comes from behind and starts fucking SWINGING Very iconic of him, I'd feel safer if Hunk was protecting me in danger

The other boys are on their way, but Hunk slips off the bridge and is hanging on for his life as lotor gets pushed away by Allura who then gets smacked into the water Lotor comes back around for her in his jet until yellow line smacks him from behind, how the FUCK did Hunk get there so fast, and nanny since shes SOMEHOW IN THERE TOO

Lotor strikes back, and they crash into the cliff while the boys are stuck fighting a robeast at the castle, so they can't go help him Allura swims to safety anyway and runs to blue only to find lotor already there, honestly very smart of him since she's guaranteed to return to blue

HELLO?? Lotor tried grabbing her even though she had a gun, girl should've pulled the trigger, but only tears her dress so instead she runs towards blue AND POINTS THE BLASTER AT HER HEAD Damn, I really need to watch beastking golion if we get stuff like this in the censored American version

Anyway he tried to get the gun away but literally trips giving her time to shoot at his feet, so he back-ups enough for her to get into blue, smart girl Hunk and nanny are still at the cliff since yellow isn't responding well, so she basically piggybacks yellow onto blue to get back to the castle as lotor is shooting at them, that's a very weird position but ok

Keith can apparently take control over yellow when they're in voltron? I'm taking that as, since he's the center, having the ability to work with all 5 lions to coordinate movement, but not actually control the limb as that's up to the pilot in it

Voltron is formed, maybe it has a strong magnetic pull that brought yellow lion in even though it couldn't fly, also voltron has a whole other sword, that's interesting to know Blazing sword takes out the elephant tank hybrid robeast and now Yellow is getting repaired, it looks like it's being done inside it's den so that's good to know for world building

Hunk questions why Allura didn't kiss Lotor on the bridge since the legend was about uniting two lands but Allura is grossed out and says it's about people in love and that not even his father could love lotor get his ass princess

she was right lol, zarkon's PISSED and tells him to stop thinking with the head in his pants and start thinking with the head on his shoulders to defeat voltron

/episode end

#voltron #voltron defender of the universe #voltron dotu #80s voltron #let's rewind!#toast talks #slowly figuring this thing out #i think i'm just going to watch the episode all the way and then summarize my thoughts lol #this got too long

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ainyan · 2 years ago

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WIP

I don't know why, but I feel compelled to share a snippet of the WIP that literally kicked me out of Ruminations mid-sentence yesterday to be started.

He was still groggy from his long sleep, his brain filled with cobwebs and fuzz. As he sat at the battered table, he studied the plate they’d set before him: toast and eggs, a bit of bacon and a bowl of porridge - filling, but plain. A veritable feast, he thought grimly as he picked up his fork, in this war-torn parody of the world he’d once known.

The door opened as he began to eat and in walked a Roegadyn. His heart ached to see the features of a long-lost friend echoed beneath the dirt and grime and scars, and it took a supreme effort of will not to call him by that other man’s name. “How are you?” the man asked without preamble, placing a thick tome upon the table next to his plate.

Not answering right away, he took stock of his mind and body; aching and tired, he was still alive and in relatively fine form for one who had slept for nigh on two centuries of time. “I am well enough, thank you,” he finally replied, his voice hoarse and dusty from disuse. “Is this what I think it is?”

The Roegadyn shrugged. “‘Tis a journal from the right time, written by a man who claimed t’ be a Scion of the Seventh Dawn. You said you needed a clearer idea of what happened back before the Calamity, and this might help.”

He reached out and drew the book closer, peering at the cover. It was obviously a handwritten memoir, perhaps the only copy in existence - but it had been carefully kept in decent condition by someone who had understood the worth of a first-hand account. A Recounting of the Final Days, by Arenvald Lentinus.

It was not a name he recognized, but he did not doubt that if these new companions of his thought it worth his time that it would contain at least some of the information he sought. “Thank you,” he said, then cleared his throat harshly. “Thank you,” he repeated.

“Don’t need t’ thank me,” came the gruff reply, before a heavy hand came to rest on his shoulder. “I sure hope ye find what ye need. It gets worse out there by th’ hour.” As if to punctuate his statement, there was a hollow thud from somewhere beyond the thick stone walls of the dilapidated building where they made their current home. “It gets much closer, we’ll need t’ close up shop and move on.”

He swallowed and set aside his fork, his appetite forgotten. “I know,” he murmured, and turned to look up at his companion. “I’m doing my best.”

The Roegadyn smiled, a fearsome expression set amidst the seams of scars and permanent grease stains, but there was genuine approval in the curve of his broad lips. “I know you are. You just wake up, get well; we’ll keep you safe ‘til you find what we need to make this crazy idea of ours work.”

“Thank you Biggs,” he said, then cursed himself. “I mean…”

The Roegadyn gave him a curious look. “What’s wrong? It’s my name.”

It was his name, but it had not been his name that he’d spoken. “I apologize. I’m lost in the past.”

Biggs shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he rumbled. “I’m proud t’ be named after my many-times granther, and it means a lot that you see him in me. He was a great man, a brilliant man, and I could only hope to be half of what he was.”

Scarlet eyes warmed, and he reached up to pat the meaty hand still on his shoulder. “You’ve survived in a world gone mad, and not only survived, but held onto hope when all others have all but lost it. You are so very like your grandsire, and I am proud to have known both of you.”

He could not see Biggs’ eyes beneath the goggles, but he could read the shock and pleasure in the set of his mouth. “Well, my granther set much store by you, G’raha Tia, so I expect great things. Having you here will surely make Cid’s plan come t’ fruition.”

G’raha Tia exhaled at the sound of his name. “The gods all grant,” he replied fervently.

Biggs echoed him. “Eat yer breakfast and read yer book. I’mma go make sure ain’t no one getting too close for comfort.”

Attention drawn to the memoir once more, G’raha Tia gave an absent acknowledgement, and barely heard the Roegadyn’s chuckle as he left the chamber, leaving the miqo’te in peace with his breakfast and book.

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfiction #shadowbringers spoilers #g'raha tia #eighth umbral calamity #wip

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house-strong · 2 years ago

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༄࿔ balerions skull

summary ; drabble requested by anon for my 1k follower celebration.

“can I request no.17 from the romantic confessions prompt list for aemond?”

“17. for years i have yearned for you, in secrecy and silence."

pairing ; aemond targaryen x reader

notes ; no mention of incest,, but you’re betrothed to one of the velaryon boys.

he’s unsure if you would come.

doubt clouds his mind, clinging to it like a hungry leech to broken skin. he’s finding himself to fall more and more into a pit of despair at your actions and he can’t help but feel unnerved at the notion.

what was this?

aemond’s mind further swirls with a faded anger about the events that had just taken place. how jacaerys toasted to aegon and himself – an action that aemond would’ve happily given into, except for the fact that lucerys’ lips curled into a sneerful grin at the arrival of a roasted pig.

that set aemond off.

when he toasted to his strong nephews, he unknowingly insulted you in the process; seeing as you were set to marry one of the bastards. he normally doesn’t think through his actions when he’s driven by rage, but when he watched your face fall from happiness, he knew he crossed a line – yet, he was unapologetic to his nephews.

not when his mother berated him quietly or when jacaerys’ flea bite of a punch connected with his jaw, but when he watched your face contort into something resembling betrayal and hurt.

you thought you were friends.

this.. feeling of being choked up, the feeling of heat rising within his clothes to make his skin clammy, and the plethora of feelings that he couldn’t recognize were none of the things that the poets had mentioned. maybe the poets were liars and this wasn’t what they say it was.

he doesn’t cherish the feeling, not one bit. it made him feel weak, and he did not enjoy feeling weak.

he hears the incoming sounds of heels and looks up from his seated position beneath balerions skull, pulling away his thumbs that were obviously chewed on. he wipes them as if cleansing his actions from the skin.

aemond rises when he sees you within view and his heart warms with realization.

you came.

“aemond?” you call out, brows furrowing as you pull your thick shawl closer around you. your eyes travel to the figurine on display: balerion the black dread. you’ve never seen anything like it. you return your attention to aemond, again, “why have you summoned me here?”

“you came,” aemond’s voice is breathy and quiet, still taken aback at the fact that you came.

“i’m standing here, aren’t i?” aemond feels the corner of his lips twitch into a poor resemblance of a smile. he revels in the comfort of your fidelity.

flames of light dance from the tops of wicked candles, basking you and aemond into a soft, amber glow. his mouth has run dry at this point, but he swallows it down and moves to grasp your arms with his. his hold is embracing and comforting – a voiceless apology evident in the touch.

“he does not deserve you,” he breathes, eyes scattering to observe the fine features of your face that were alit by the candles. “for years i have yearned for you, in secrecy and silence.”

the confession is less than surprising; aemond has always made his affections known. despite his cruelty towards his nephews, he kept his anger to a minimum around you – keeping you from seeing the haunting side of him. there was always a lingering stare or touch, or an eagerness to take your hand first.

betrothal seemed to mean very little to him.

you open your mouth to object, to ask him if this was his cruel way of shaming you for being arranged to marry his hated nephew, but his interruption stops you.

“i have not been the most gracious of hosts, i know. but ask yourself, are you truly happy?”

for a moment you’re quiet, weighing your next thoughts on your tongue before you actually say them, “you sound like a poet, aemond.”

aemond wants to allow an amused air shoot from his nostrils, but he’s begging for an answer to his unasked question.

“it’s a way i found to express myself to you.” the next confession is more subtle, his voice filled with a pained longing. your name falls from his lips like a plea, a prayer that you would forsake your duty for him – an action no one else has yet done for him.

you’re left voiceless, thoughts scrambling for any viable recognition of duty and honor that’s yours. admittedly, you liked this; the feeling of being sought after even if things seemed impossible. the shared longing, the same desire; all these things could be yours by a simple word of affirmation.

a word that leaves you without hesitance.

“yes.”

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen blurb #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd blurb #my writing #house-strong 1k celebration

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beclynn-herondale · 3 years ago

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Similarities that I see between Jace and Céline

(these are just my thoughts. Press read more to see them.)

↑ this chaotic energy. You think he got it from Stephen? Nah.

Her anxiety reminds me of Jace's. And like their thought process was similar in ways.

They both struggled with belonging.

Céline corrected Robert when he said "Just like a warlock. Always for sale."

And Céline was like "Always on sale."

Again Jace energy.

Céline knew Amatis, Stephen's wife. At least, she knew enough. Amatis was sharp-tongued and stuck up. She was opinionated, argumentative, stubborn, and not even that pretty. There were also rumors that she still secretly associated with her werewolf brother. Céline didn't much care about that—she had nothing against Downworlders. But she had plenty against Amatis, who obviously didn't appreciate what she had. Stephen needed someone who would admire him, agree with him, support him. Someone like Céline. If only she could make him see that for himself.

Jace's smile was as bland as buttered toast. "Go on, go after him. Pat his head and tell him he's still your super special little guy. Isn't that what you want to do?"

But he couldn't look at Simon without wanting to kill someone.

“And even back then, in that stupid coffee shop. When I saw you sitting on the couch with Simon, even then that felt wrong to me—i should have been the one sitting with you. The one that made you laugh like that. I couldn't get rid of that feeling. That it should have been me.”

↑ Their bitterness, anger, jealousy, and envy towards the person who had the person they wanted and in general has the same energy in my opinion.

They both were angry and jealous of people who had it better or they considered to be good—Like, that was why Jace hated Simon so much at first, because Simon was everything Jace thought he'd never get to be, he just didn't realize it.—And Céline was angry of the kids in the academy who had loving parents and good childhoods, and weren't damaged like she was—they both were angry because somebody was someone or had something they thought they'd never get to be or have. (In Céline's case she never actually got it, not really.)

They both like to wander around when upset.

They both aren't too fond of the Silent Brothers. And I think that has to do with their head being full of certain things they don't want others to know, and the Silent Brothers speak in your mind, almost like they're reading your thoughts.

They're both observant, which could be from growing up in abusive and toxic environments but could also just be they're observant people.

They both can tell when someone is off. We see this when Céline sees through Valentine's mask. Jace often saw through the lies of people in TMI and still does.

And the both hate being pitied. Like it angers them when people pity them, we see that with Jace quite often in TMI, but we see it when Dominique says this: “Every Downworlder in Paris knows about poor Céline Montclaire, wandering the city like a murderous little Éponine. We all feel a little sorry for you.”

And then Céline thought this: Céline lived with a steady, secret simmer of rage, but now she felt it boiling over.

↑ Again, the above reminds me of Jace. He lived with anger that he kept under control but would boil over when triggered.

They're both sensitive. And get hurt easily.

“I wish I could be more like you,” she admitted.

In what sense?

“You know, just shut off my feelings? Feel nothing. For anybody.”

There was a long pause, and she wondered if she had offended him. Was that even possible? Finally, his cool, steady voice spoke.

This is a wish you should dispense with. Feeling is what makes us human. Even the most difficult feelings. Perhaps especially those. Love, loss, longing—this is what it means to truly be alive.

“I think—my father was sorry he had a parabatai,” he said. “Now I have to go live with a man my father was sorry about. I don't want to be weak, I don't want to be sorry. I want to be the best.”

If you pretend to feel nothing, the pretense may become true, said Jem. That would be a pity.

↑ They both wished to feel nothing, and had Jem tell them that wasn't as great as they thought. But they both still desperately wanted to not feel.

When she was a child, her parents had often refused her iratzes after training sessions, especially when her injuries were caused by her own mistakes. Let the pain remind you to do better next time, they told her. All these years later she was still making the same mistakes.

“No! it's better for your parents not to know it happened at all. It was just bad luck that one of them got me. I'm a good fighter,” Jonathan protested sharply.

“It's my fault I got hurt,” said Jonathan. “I know excuses are for incompetents. It won't happen again.”

↑ this bit on making mistakes, or when getting hurt.

Céline always carried a misericord blade.

↑ Reminds me of someone else who always carries blades.

They both were aware of the consequences of putting a rune on someone that they weren't 100% sure were Nephilim, and it was different circumstances but they did it anyway. Jace gave Clary her first rune and Céline gave Rosemary her first rune (I think).

More furious at her own instinct for mercy. After all, her parents had never shown any to her. Her parents had done their best to teach her that mercy was weakness, and cruelty was strength.

Jonathan said the word "weakness" with horror. Jem wondered what a man who had drilled a boy to fight like that might have considered weakness.

↑ Mercy, kindness, gentleness, etc. Was taught as weakness to them both growing up.

They both hate being predictable. Kinda like when Rosemary knew Céline would keep her secret. Céline hated that she knew that. Remember in CoA when everyone was guessing that Jace said no to Valentine, and he hated it.

They both never really felt like they were ever a kid. Because again, the environment they grew up in forced them to grow up faster than they should have. Which is why Jace didn't think of himself as one when he threw himself into battle.

like Jace I don't think Céline liked to upset the balance of things, meaning they don't pry and don't pressure. Which often gets them labeled as "not too bright" or "unobservant" they're both observant, they just don't say it out-loud. Jace is definitely like this, but I see Céline as this too. Stephen said she always needed to be told what to do, but I don't think it was that exactly, I think she just didn't like to upset things. Which growing up in an abusive and toxic environment does that. But I think it's also just part of who they are.

That sweet and obedient daughter of the provençal countryside. They knew how devoted she was to her parents. Such a dutiful daughter.

↑ Valentine often called Jace his obedient son. I see Jace in this part as well. Sebastian called him Valentine's "sweet boy."

She could close the door on the past, start again. She could choose a life without pain, without suffering or fear.

But who would she be without pain?

This also reminds me of Jace. Obviously he did end up choosing to walk away from Valentine. But there are times he doubted, because in reality he himself didn't know who he was without the pain he'd experienced, without his past with Valentine. And they both believed that the pain and suffering had made them stronger. Jace later knows that isn't true, but I see the similarity there.

They're both said to have vulnerability about them that made you wan to protect them. To keep them safe. Jocelyn said you couldn't really hate Céline, and I think it's kinda the same with Jace.

Both of them refused to ask for help. Thinking they could do it all on their own.

Céline could tell how much it hurt—and how determined the woman was to reveal no pain. She knelt by her side. Rosemary flinched away. “Let me see—I can help."

“Tell me what happened first.” She tried to yank her wrist back, but his grip was incredibly strong. “I can help you.” — this is in Clary's pov.

↑ Their willingness to help the pretty stranger they didn't know.

They both often felt they didn't have a choice in some things.

They both felt achingly alone at some point. And very much misunderstood.

The thought of losing the only family they ever had scared them, and they were willing to do anything to keep them. Even if in Céline's case hers wasn't that real.

They were both said to be beautiful, and breakable. Fragile almost. These were Jocelyn's words. That beautiful things were easily broken.

They both grew up denied of love and care.

Céline had low self esteem in a lot of areas. We often see Jace as the confident character who doesn't have insecurities or low self-esteem. but he does. Jace didn't like himself, his looks don't play a part here, he didn't like himself. He actually didn't feel good enough or worth much, that's why he made so many superiority jokes, because he truly didn't feel good enough but had to make everyone believe he did. Céline didn't feel good enough either, but she tried not to let it show.

Their childhood gave them bad coping mechanisms and suicidal tendencies. They both self harmed in ways, believing that pain made you stronger is one of them.

We often look over the fact that while some of Jace's mental struggles did come from the trauma of his childhood and growing up around war, that he was already at a high risk with a mother who experienced similar things. Because if you have a parent who has mental illness the offspring are at higher risk of developing one. And his childhood didn't help with that.

And we know what they both truly wanted was to be loved and safe. Really. Jace always thought he wanted to fight all the time, but by the end of tmi he realized he just truly wanted to be happy and left alone, he just wanted Clary and his family. Céline wanted that too, but she never got it.

You all realize they would understand each other, right? Like if Cassie ever did something where they somehow met, Céline would understand Jace and he would understand her.

Céline would have never raised Jace with anything but love and care. She would have made sure he never knew a childhood like hers. But he did. He ended up knowing what that was like. And it would have broken her even more to know that.

But she would probably stab Valentine in the face, which I'd like to see.

Friendly reminder that Jace looks like her around the eyes (no I won't shut up about this.)

There's probably more but until we learn more we won't know. Just remember he may be a Herondale but Céline is also there.

@khaleesiofalicante I tagged you 😎

#celine montclaire #celine herondale #jace herondale #jace lightwood herondale #tsc #the shadowhuter chronicles #tst #the secret treasons

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love-and-monsters · 4 years ago

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Fake Dating pt. 2

M Faerie X F human reader, 6,405 words

This is a part two to this story. Elwain and his human are safely in the human world, dealing with things far more mundane than an assassination attempt. Both of them are adjusting to the new life and to each other. Very fluffy, with some caretaking. I was in a very romantic mood while writing this and I think you can tell.

Content notes: mentions of parents trying to kill their child, descriptions of minor illness.

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. Why do humans like this?”

You repressed a snicker. “You’re watching it.”

Elwain didn’t even look away from the screen to reply. “You put it on.”

“I just turned on the TV. You’re the one who started watching.” Elwain made a noncommittal noise. You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile. “I can change the channel, if you want. There’s a documentary on that I wanted to-”

“No, this is fine,” Elwain said. He hopped onto the couch next to you and curled up. “Ugh. These people know that expensive doesn’t mean good, right?”

You covered your mouth with a hand. Elwain actually, legitimately enjoying trashy reality shows was by far the best thing you’d learned about his personality since you’d started living together. The worst thing was probably that he’d grown up with servants and had no comprehension of household chores. It had taken a few weeks to get him to put his food back in the refrigerator when he was done with it, and you weren’t sure he was ever going to get the hang of doing dishes. Still. He was getting better.

“You’re still going to need to vacuum later tonight,” you reminded him. Elwain groaned.

“I spent all day at work!” he said. “I should get a day off.”

“You only had a five hour shift today. I worked seven. Plus, I have school. You don’t get breaks on household chores. Doesn’t matter how much you worked, they still have to be done.” Elwain looked away sulkily. That was an expression you were getting uncomfortably familiar with. “And you’re not allowed to do magic for it, either.”

“What? Just because you can’t use magic, there is no reason for me to be forbidden!” Elwain said.

“Yeah, sure. You remember what happened last time you used magic to clean the apartment?” Bright pink spots appeared on Elwain’s cheeks. He glared down at the couch, expression screwed up in irritation.

“I fixed that.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. You fixed the apartment. What you’re never going to fix is my trauma from walking into my apartment and finding everything covered in spiders!”

“I apologized!”

“Look, the next time you decide to enchant a bunch of bugs into doing household chores, just. Don’t.”

Elwain huffed. “They weren’t even venomous to humans! All of you are so easily frightened. They weren’t going to hurt you.”

“I think the heart attack I had upon entering my own apartment could be considered as hurting me,” you muttered. Elwain looked sour, but didn’t respond, apparently returning to his TV show. Elwain’s adjustment to the human world had been… difficult. He had no real understanding of conventional social norms and obviously still expected everyone to treat him like a noble, despite working a minimum wage job at a fast-food restaurant. Not to mention that he seemed to have very loose morals when it came to enchanting mortals. As far as you were aware, he’d never done it to you, but he didn’t seem to have any sort of restraint when it came to anyone else. Before he’d gotten his job in customer service, he’d made all of his money by charming random people off the street into handing over their wallets.

Admittedly, his skills had come in handy. You didn’t feel particularly good about it, but he had charmed the landlord into giving you the apartment for significantly less than the going rate. In your defense, there hadn’t been many options. You couldn’t stay in your parent’s house with a Fae hanging around, and even with both of you working, there was no way to afford an apartment otherwise.

It did not help that Elwain apparently found your moral crisis very funny.

“You all live by such dumb rules all the time. If you really wanted, I could probably charm someone into giving us their house, or just letting us stay there.”

“That feels morally dubious,” you said.

“Ugh. You won’t let me steal anything, you won’t let me charm people into letting us use their things without stealing them, you won’t even let me charm people into handing some things over!” Elwain flopped across the couch. “So now we’re living in a garbage apartment and I have to work at a greasy food place where customers yell all the time and-”

“It’s a nice apartment, especially considering what we’re paying for it,” you interrupted. “And if you use magic too often, people might start figuring out that something weird is going on.”

“I doubt it. Mortals are stupid.” But Elwain didn’t protest, and went to his job as usual, and didn’t steal, which was more respect for your rules than you were worried he’d show. And, really, you were glad you’d instated the ‘no magic’ rule at large, given how unpredictable the results could be.

Elwain sprawled across the couch. He had a tendency to take up ridiculous amounts of space, pushing you to the edges of the couch to avoid contact. Eventually, you got up.

“Where are you going?” Elwain asked as you walked out of the room.

“I’m going to study for a bit before bed,” you called back. “Enjoy your show.”

He stared after you until your door clicked shut. Weird. He’d seemed almost annoyed about you leaving, even though it meant he could watch his shows for longer and you would stop bugging him about vacuuming. Whatever. He’d been acting weird recently, though. Maybe you should talk to him about it. He’d seemed fine for the first month or so after leaving his home and his parents trying to kill him, but maybe he was having some sort of delayed reaction.

You buried yourself in your textbooks for the next few hours, trying to get a solid start on one of your papers. The back of your mind seemed to be focused on the little noises in the apartment, though. Every sound of footsteps or things being moved pulled your attention back to the rest of the house. Eventually, you heard the sound of the vacuum running for a while before Elwain headed into his room.

He never went back into the main area of your apartment and, buried in work, you were soon thoroughly distracted. Gradually, as you worked, your mind grew less and less focused until you were face down in your books, dead asleep.

“Wake up!”

You bolted upright. There was a piece of paper sticking to your cheek from a stream of drool. You hurriedly pulled it off. “What? What’s going on?” You blinked, focusing on Elwain’s fine face in front of you. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Your alarm was going off. I can’t believe you didn’t hear it. It woke me up.” Sure enough, your phone, which was still sitting across the room from you, on its charger, was ringing furiously. You weren’t surprised that you hadn’t noticed it, though. Your head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton.

“Oh. Sorry.” You rose a little unsteadily and turned the alarm off. “Thanks for waking me. Probably would have slept right through it if you hadn’t.”

“Uh huh,” Elwain said. “Did someone curse you?”

You blinked at him. He seemed dead serious. “Uh, no. I doubt it. Unless you know something I don’t.”

“If you’re asking about my parents, I would assume they are no longer concerned about me,” Elwain said. His voice was clipped, like it always was when he talked about his parents. “I don’t think they would bother to curse a mortal. If they had the means to lay a curse on someone, it would be far easier and more effective to just curse me.” He paused. “I was only asking because you look terrible.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled.

“You do. Why didn’t you sleep in your actual bed last night?” he asked.

“Because I fell asleep at my desk by accident. Are you going to stand here and just insult me or-” You broke off into a round of thick, hacking coughs. Elwain took a step back, alarm crossing his face.

“What is happening to you?” He lifted his arms in front of him, like he was trying to ward off some kind of evil spirit.

“It’s a cough,” you said. “Have you never seen a cough before?”

Elwain lowered his arms, still looking at me like he thought you would start convulsing at any moment. “Fae don’t do that.”

“They don’t cough?” You rubbed at your chest. A significant amount of phlegm had settled there. God, your body really had to pick the worst time to get sick.

“Not like that,” he said. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m sick,” you told him.

He nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of that. A mortal thing. Your forms are weak, so you occasionally fall ill. It is a sign of your small, failing lifespans.”

You considered correcting him, but decided that you had better ways to spend your morning than trying to explain germ theory to a Faerie. “Yeah. Sure. Well. I’m sick. So that’s why I’m coughing. It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.”

Elwain narrowed his eyes. “Hmph. Well. I have work. Don’t die while I’m out.”

“I’m not in any danger of dying,” you told him. “Go head to work. Have fun.”

“That’s unlikely,” he muttered, but he left your room without protest. You closed your door after him and set about getting ready for your day.

The cold had settled into your head and chest and you could tell it was going to be bad already, even before it had come on fully. God. You could not afford to get sick.

Elwain was eating breakfast when you shuffled into the kitchen. You’d needed to absolutely cake your face in makeup to look presentable, and you saw his brows rise as he looked at you. Fortunately, the Fae at least knew how to keep their mouths shut. He just looked back at the frozen waffles he was toasting.

You snagged a granola bar and headed for the door. “Have a good day at work!” you called over your shoulder. Elwain grunted in response. The door swung shut behind you.

Work was exhausting, as per usual. It was better than Elwain’s job by a long shot, since you were working in a local candy store run by a sweet older couple, but between keeping an eye on any batches of candy being produced, sorting out customers, and having to deal with the requisite child-throwing-a-fit-for-not-getting-sweets, it was tiring. Trying to look bright and perky while being weighted down with a cold was awful.

As soon as work was off, you had class. Dragging yourself through it was a slow, painful slog. By the end, your head was fuzzy and you felt dead on your feet. Slowly, you hauled yourself on the bus and fell asleep.

Naturally, you missed your stop.

About an hour after you were supposed to be home, you dragged yourself in through the door. Elwain practically slammed into you. His hands clapped on either side of his face and he peered intently at you. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you! I thought you were dead!”

You pushed him off you and bent to one side to cough heavily until you were nearly sagging to the floor. Elwain stared at you. “Sorry,” you rasped when you’d stopped. “I fell asleep. And then my phone was on low battery and I wanted to make sure I had enough battery to use my GPS to get home.”

“You couldn’t have texted me?” Elwain drew himself up, hands on his hips. The entire situation reminded you, ridiculously, of your mom when you came home after a night out. “I was worried! I didn’t know where you were, and mortals are so ridiculously fragile-”

“Aw, you’d have been fine,” you said. “If anything, you’d be able to do more without my stupid mortal morals.”

Elwain’s expression went strange for a moment. “Are you feeling well? You seem… off.”

“I’m not feeling well. I’d like to lie down, actually.” You coughed again. “That okay with you?” Elwain was still frowning, but he stepped aside, allowing you down the hall and into your room.

You went down into your bed face-first. Almost as soon as you hit the pillows, your mind faded into sleep. Sleep came to you in fitful waves. You kept waking, coughing, rolling over and falling asleep again. When your alarm pulled you back to full consciousness, you felt thoroughly awful. The cold had settled firmly into your chest and head, gumming everything up. Your chest rasped every time you breathed in, prompting heavy coughing fits, you shivered even when you were wrapped in blankets, and your head felt full, achy, and cloudy.

The cold had apparently decided to upgrade to a full-blown illness. Slowly, you shoved yourself upright. It was hard to breathe through your nose and your mouth. Your throat stung with every inhale. Every cell of your body just wanted to pop some of the cold medicine that made you sleep and hopefully you’d wake up when it was all over.

Just as you were standing up, someone knocked on your door.

Well, you knew who. There was only one person who it could be. Grimacing, you walked over to the door and pulled it open. “Elwain. What?”

He stared at you. “I was- are you okay?”

“I’m sick. You remember the discussion was had yesterday?” you said. “Anyway. You needed something?”

Elwain looked you over. You hadn’t looking into a mirror, but given his expression, you probably looked terrible. He seemed to think you were five seconds from crumbling into a pile of ash, like a vampire exposed to sunlight. “Do I need to call 911?” he asked.

“Uh, no. It’s a cold. I don’t need an ambulance. I need to sleep for a while. Why are you knocking on my door?” you asked. Elwain’s mouth moved wordlessly. Whatever he had wanted to talk to you about, it seemed to have been completely derailed.

“I… er.” Elwain’s gaze flicked over you again. “Well. I wanted to see how you were doing. You went to bed right after you got home last night and I never saw you again. And you seem to be doing… poorly.”

“Yeah. I’m not doing great. I really just want to go back to bed.” You rubbed your hand over your head. “I feel like shit.”

Elwain hesitated. “Do you need me to do something?”

“Just go about your day. I’ll try to keep my gross self out of your way.” You slouched across your room to your bed. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to try to get a little more sleep.”

Elwain lingered in the doorway for a few moments longer. Finally, he turned and headed into the kitchen. The door remained open behind him, and you couldn’t be bothered to get up and close it again. Instead, you buried your head in your pillow. Sleep claimed you again within moments.

Less than an hour later, your alarm went off again. You slapped at it balefully until it shut off. Somehow, it felt like you gotten negative sleep, like sleeping had made you even more tired. Slowly, painfully, you pushed yourself upright. Shivers wracked your frame. How had sleep made everything worse?

You threw on the first clothes that you could get your hands on and shuffled into the kitchen. Elwain looked up from his breakfast. His mouth opened slightly. “Good lord. Maybe you have been cursed.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I don’t look that bad.” You did, but you’d slathered enough makeup on your face to cover most of it. Then again, maybe that wasn’t enough to hide from Fae eyes.

“You look like a walking corpse,” Elwain said. You collapsed in the seat next to him and coughed into your fist. The force of the motion made your head throb. Elwain curled his lips back from his teeth in a grimace. “Are you certain you don’t need me to call 911?”

“No. It’s a cold. I’m-” You dissolved into a fit of coughing so severe it was difficult to catch your breath. Elwain stared at you, eyes wide. “I’m fine,” you croaked.

Elwain narrowed his eyes, but returned to his phone. You didn’t know where he’d gotten it from, because he certainly hadn’t purchased it, but you’d decided you weren’t going to ask. You ate slowly, mostly because your stomach felt tender, and you couldn’t finish even half of your normal portion. After a while of picking at your food, you dumped your dishes in the sink and started gathering your items to head out.

“Where are you going?” You startled. Elwain had appeared at your shoulder, completely silent. You might have chalked up not noticing him to your cold-dulled senses, but he could sneak up on you no matter how well you were feeling.

“Work,” you said.

Elwain looked back down at his phone. “You are not supposed to leave the house if you’re sick.”

“It’s a cold. I’ll be fine,” you said.

Elwain kept looking at his phone. “If you are sick, you are supposed to stay home, both so you can avoid infecting others and so you can recover.”

“Are you reading that off a website? Where are you reading that from?” You tried to grab his phone, but he gracefully slipped out of your reach.

“I searched about human illnesses on the internet,” he said. “Your symptoms are consistent with the common cold, but they are also consistent with pneumonia. It says you should sleep and drink water until you are recovered.”

“Look,” you said. “I’m fine. It’s a cold. I’ve had them before. I will have them after this one. I know how to handle them. I’ll pop some cold medicine and I’ll be fine.” Elwain stared at you. His expression was hard to read. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll live.” You sniffed and blotted at your face with a tissue. “I’m going to leave now. I’ll see you later.”

You swept out the door, giving Elwain a wave. He stared after you, not moving until you slammed the door shut.

It was a long, slow, awful day. You could barely keep your head together. By the time you got home, your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and your mind was swimming.

You dragged yourself through the door. Your body felt like you were wrapped in a massive, thick blanket. Everything was warm and it was hard to move, like everything was stiff.

Elwain stared at you as you pulled yourself into the kitchen. “You look like death warmed over.”

“Fine,” you mumbled. “’m fine.” You slouched over the counter and leaned against it. Elwain stood, stepping closer to you. “I’m good. I… I’m good. Just… Tired. Tired. Need to nap.”

“Perhaps you should nap in your room,” Elwain said. “Not on the counter.”

“I’m fine here.” Your words were getting mushy. Why weren’t your lips moving correctly? “I’m good. I just, um. Need. Something…”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Here, hold onto me. I’ll-” Elwian’s hands were on your waist, on your back. You felt boneless, mushy. Your limbs weren’t moving the way you wanted them to. The only thing you could feel were Elwain’s hands supporting you. Was he carrying you? Maybe. You felt like you were floating. Your head was disconnected from your body, floating. Someone was speaking to you from far away, a soothing voice. It was so soothing. Maybe you could just sleep for a bit. Just sleep. It would be nice to just sleep.

Dimly, you came back to yourself. You blinked your eyes open. The ceiling was unfamiliar, at least as ceilings went. Not that you were familiar with many ceilings, really. Looking down at yourself revealed why the ceiling was so unfamiliar. The bed was covered in heavy, dark blue sheets. Elwain’s sheets. You were in his bed.

Slowly, you pushed yourself upright. You still felt bad, but less bad than you had been feeling. A raking cough escaped your chest, thick with phlegm.

“You’re up!” Elwain appeared in the doorway. He looked… frazzled? You weren’t sure the Fae could look as frazzled and unkempt as a human could, but he didn’t look as ethereally beautiful as he usually did. He looked sort of ruffled. “I was considering dragging you to the hospital, but the internet said that maybe ginger tea would actually be better, so I got you some of that.” He indicated the cup in his hands.

“You have got to stop getting all your information from the internet. Or at least I need to give you a media literacy course on identifying good sources,” you croaked. Your voice sounded bad, but it no longer hurt to speak. It just felt uncomfortable.

Elwain gave you a bewildered look and held the cup out toward you. “Drink it.” You took it obligingly and took a sip. Elwain must have dumped half a bottle of honey in it, because it was so sweet you almost couldn’t taste the ginger. You swallowed it carefully.

“Thank you,” you said when you’d finished the cup. “What, uh. What exactly happened to me?”

Elwain sat on the end of your bed. He was wearing his old cloak, the one he’d taken with him when he’d fled from Faerie. He tucked it tighter around him, fingers fidgeting at the hem. “I was hoping you could inform me of that, actually. I was quite frightened when you collapsed like that.”

“Oh, yeah,” you said. Vaguely, you remembered passing out. “How long was I out?”

Elwain glanced at the clock. “Mn. Less than an hour? You were in and out for the first ten minutes, mumbling a lot.” You had vague memories of Elwain leaning over you, expression panicked. Must have been from then. “Once I got you into bed, you fell asleep. I wasn’t sure if I should wake you or not.”

“It is,” you said. “Probably a good idea to let me sleep. Though if I ever do collapse again, please call 911.” You considered. “Well, I guess don’t call 911 unless I’m actually dying. I can’t afford the ambulance.”

Elwain nodded, even though he looked politely confused. “Is your illness getting worse?”

“Maybe,” you said. “It’s hard to tell. I think I have a fever now, so that sucks.”

With absolutely no warning, Elwain leaned forward. His face was abruptly so close to yours, close enough to feel his cool breath tickling your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck lifted. Suddenly the only thoughts in your head had to do with his lips pressing to yours, his cool mouth meandering along your skin-

His forehead touched yours. His eyes closed, a little furrow appearing in his brow. “You’re warm,” he said. “Very warm.” He sat back.

You blinked. “Uh. You can do that with your hand, you know.”

“Oh? I saw the forehead one on the internet,” Elwain said, but he reached up and cradled your face in his hands. With a soft, delicate touch, the back of his hand brushed against your forehead and down your cheek. The touch made something in your chest tighten and your breath catch. “You still feel warm.”

You moved your mouth, trying to get your brain back in gear. “Uh, yeah. Fever! That’s, uh. Bad. I need, um. You remember that pill bottle in the bathroom I showed you? The one with the little red pills?” Elwain nodded. “Get those and a glass of water. They’ll bring the fever down.”

Elwain vanished for a moment and returned with a tall glass water and the bottle of pills. He watched as you downed them and sank back into bed. His sheets were softer than yours, his bed even more luxuriously plush. You weren’t sure where he’d gotten the sheets from, or if maybe they were the sheets you’d bought him, just augmented with magic. “Why did you put me in your bed, anyway?” you asked. “My bed’s not that much further away.”

“I wanted to keep an eye on you,” Elwain said. “And you do not like me coming in your room.”

“I don’t like you just walking into my room whenever you feel like it, but you can come into my room,” you said. But you were pretty glad he’d put you in his bed. Everything in his room smelled faintly floral and herbal, a smell that relaxed you. Everything was cozy.

“I am not familiar with how to deal with sick mortals,” Elwain said. “Do you need anything else?”

“No. I just need to rest.” You paused, looking toward the window. “I should probably head back to my own room, actually. You’ll probably want to sleep here tonight, right?”

Elwain shook his head. “Stay. You need to rest. I will sleep elsewhere.” He swept out of the room, cloak fluttering behind him. You stared after him for a moment before sinking back into bed. Despite just waking up, your head was already muddy again. Maybe Elwain had gotten you the pills with the sleeping medicine in them. Your eyes closed. Within moments, you were drifting away, fast asleep.

You dreamed of strange things, of hands on your face, cupping your cheek, of soft lips pressed to your neck, of kind eyes and strong arms carrying you around. When you opened your eyes to see the same kind eyes staring down at you, you were half-convinced you were still dreaming.

“Hello,” Elwain said. “You have been asleep for a while.”

You blinked. Your body did have that foggy heaviness that came when you’d been sleeping deeply. Even your discomfort from the illness seemed far away and dim. “Elwain.”

“Yes. I’m right here.” He said it more gently than a simple statement of fact, almost like a reassurance.

“How long was I out?” There was bright sunlight streaming in through the window and across the bed. You lifted a hand to clumsily shield your eyes.

“Over twelve hours. I thought you should probably sleep. That’s what the internet said.”

“Oh, man, we are going to need to get you some better resources than just ‘the internet,’” you said. “But you were right. Thanks for letting me sleep.” Slowly, you shoved yourself up into a sitting position. “What’s that?”

Elwain held a bowl out to you. “I was told that soup was good for mortal illnesses.”

You took the bowl of vegetable broth. Elwain’s cooking was usually pretty hit or miss- he could follow recipes just fine, but he also had a habit of deciding that he had a better idea than the recipe and going completely off the rails. The soup just seemed to be broth, though. You took a cautious sip. It was watery, but tolerable.

“Are you feeling better?” Elwain asked. You nodded, glancing over at the clock.

“It’s past nine,” you noticed. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I called in sick. I wanted to stay home to make sure you were all right.” Elwain looked completely serious.

“It’s just a cold. I’m fine.”

Elwain’s eyes narrowed. “You collapsed.”

“Well, yeah, but…” You trailed off. There wasn’t much you could say in response to that. “Fine. But if you get fired for this, I’m going to be pissed.”

“I will not be fired. My boss loves me.” Elwain gave a superior little sniff, nose stuck up in the air. You laughed into your bowl of broth.

When you were finished, Elwain took your bowl back into the kitchen, returning only a few moments later. “Do you need anything else?”

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “You really didn’t have to stay home to take care of me. There’s not going to be a lot to do. I think I’m mostly going to sleep.”

“Regardless. I think it is better to be safe.” Elwain looked at you from the doorway for a moment longer. “I need you.”

He left the doorway. You could hear his footsteps retreating into your apartment, perfectly steady, like what he said hadn’t made your chest tighten intensely. You sank back into his bed. His scent wreathed around you, gentle and reassuring. Oh, god. Warm feelings were fluttering up in your stomach, swelling through chest and trembling in your lungs. Worse than that, they felt familiar. How long had these feelings been lingering in the background of your mind? And now they had surfaced and you didn’t know what to do with them. Naturally, you would have some kind of emotional crisis when you were sick.

You faded in and out of dreams where Elwain’s scent wreathed around you and his gentle hands stroked your forehead and cheeks. You woke up feeling oddly melancholy.

The sounds of the TV drifted through the open door. Shaking some feeling back into your heavy limbs, you hauled a blanket over your shoulders and headed into the living room.

Elwain was draped over the couch, staring at the TV. There was some soap opera on with a woman and a man hysterically throwing themselves at each other. Elwain looked up as you padded into the room. “Is it okay for you to be out of bed?” he asked.

“Yeah. I feel better, actually.” The sleep had helped quite a bit. You still felt foggy, but the pain in your head and chest had faded. Elwain sat up, drawing his limbs in closer to himself so you could sit next to him.

“You look less… corpse-like,” he said. Before you realized what he was doing, he took hold of your face in both hands and pulled you closer to him. “You are still warm.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m getting better.” You reached up and carefully pried his fingers off your face. You were overly aware of how your fingers lingered together. “How’s your day off going?”

“Human TV is still strange,” Elwain said, turning back toward the screen. “I can’t imagine any humans really behave like this. I have never seen it.”

“No, it’s a soap opera. It’s supposed to be deliberately over-the-top and crazy. That’s why they’re fun to watch.” Elwain rolled his eyes, but there was amusement in his expression.

“Is there anything you want to watch?” he asked.

“No, this is fine.” You settled into the soft cushions, staring at the TV. As much as you were looking in the direction of the TV, most of your attention was focused on Elwain. His gaze kept flicking toward you, as if he was unable to focus on the show either. After a moment, he reached out toward you.

One of his hands settled on your head, the other on your shoulder. Before you realized what had happened, he pushed you so your head was resting in his lap. You stared up at him as he, apparently unconcerned, started weaving his fingers through your hair.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“You did this for me when I first came here,” Elwain said. “It was soothing. I thought you might like it as well.” He paused. “Was I incorrect?”

You considered for a moment. His fingers were still carding through your hair, twining strands around his fingers. “No. I don’t mind.”

Elwain continued to stroke your hair. His nails scratched lightly at your scalp. The feeling of being touched made something tremulous swell in your chest. It was a pleasant feeling, but one so sharp and overwhelming that it almost made you cry.

You lay with Elwain for a while, his hands absently playing with your hair and trailing along your head and neck. He seemed to be paying far more attention to you than to the TV. “You should take better care of yourself,” he said, stroking your bangs back from your forehead. “If you were to die, I would be alone in the mortal world.”

“You’d manage,” you said.

“Perhaps.” Elwain removed his hands from your hair and hesitated for a moment. He seemed to be struggling to speak. Then he sighed. “But I would prefer it if you were with me.”

You looked up at him. He was staring deliberately to one side. There was a faint pinkish color to his cheeks and his eyes were narrowed. “You could have left, once our deal was up. I only asked you to stay with me for the night. And yet, you helped me. There was no reason to. I no longer have my connections or any particular Faerie skills. Even the few powers that remain with me, you don’t like me using. You have gained nothing from this deal and you help me regardless.”

“Of course, I did.” Thinking about that night only brought one image to your mind. Elwain, who had nearly been killed by his own parents, looking lost and confused and abandoned. He had been cocky before, but in that moment, he had just looked forlorn and upset. He had just looked scared. “I wasn’t going to just leave you on your own.”

“You could have,” Elwain pressed on. “Easily, you could have. You could have justified it, even by mortal morals. There’s not a lot here that could kill me. As you have pointed out, I would be fairly fine on my own. But you stayed with me regardless, for no other reason than just helping me.”

“You’d just almost been assassinated. I couldn’t leave you,” you said.

“You could have. But you didn’t. And, at least so far, you have asked for nothing from me in return. To be quite honest, you’ve been almost annoying with how little you allow me to do.”

“I try,” you said. Elwain snorted. It was an inelegant noise, but somehow also incredibly attractive. “Where are you going with this?”

“I’m trying to explain to you that I care about you. I want you to be well and safe and healthy because you saved me and you didn’t have to and I appreciate it.” Elwain’s cheeks flamed red. “That’s what I’m trying to say.”

You reached up slowly and let your hand cradle the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing. “It’s strange. I’m not used to this,” he said. “My parents loved me as far as they could use me. It’s how Faeries are. But you have used me for nothing, gained precious little advantage from having a Faerie living with you. And I wasn’t used to it. I still think I’m not used to it. But I am so… so… happy. For this. For you.” He blinked his eyes open. They were hazy with emotion. “Thank you.”

It was an impulse maybe you could have resisted if you were feeling better, but you were overwhelmed with feeling and not in the mood to fight with yourself. The hand on his cheek shifted position toward the back of his neck and pulled him down on top of you. His mouth pressed into yours, tense and unyielding, then softening as he realized what was happening.

There was a moment of fumbling, while Elwain registered that you were kissing. You broke away from his mouth, but he was pressing into you again, pulling you close to him and meeting your lips over and over with his own. His tongue brushed your lower lip and his moan sounded against your mouth.

You weren’t aware of how it happened, but suddenly you were lying back on the couch with Elwain on top of you. He was kissing you furiously, his hips flush to yours. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him as close to you as you could get.

One of your gasping breaths caught in your chest, triggering a coughing fit. You rolled over, trying not to cough right into Elwain’s face. He sat back. His lips were already slightly kiss-swollen and he looked a bit rumpled. “Right,” he said, trying to finger-comb his hair back into a presentable state. “You’re still not feeling well.”

“Hold on. Give me a minute, we can keep going,” you said between coughs. Elwain pressed his lips together, but they were twitching toward a smile.

“You are admirably determined, but I think it would be better for you to rest,” he said. There was a pause. Elwain tugged on a few of the longer strands of his hair. “I take that to mean you feel the same way?”

“That I like you? Yeah.” You pulled him down so he was laying across your chest. He looked at you, eyes surprisingly wide and innocent. “When I first met you, I thought you were kind of an asshole. And you are kind of an asshole. But you’re also charming and endearing and you try to follow my rules even when you totally don’t have to. And you’re willing to take care of me when I’m sick.”

“You took care of me when I had lost everything,” Elwain said. “I only wished to return the favor.” His fingers wandered over your stomach, tracing absent patterns on your shirt. You could feel his warmth against your skin. “Usually, that’s how it works, with Faeries. Favors are given because giving means you can get something in return, and you’re always trying to leverage the deal to get more than what you’re giving.” He closed his eyes for a moment, brows furrowing. “But when I saw you were sick, I wasn’t thinking that I needed to pay you back. I was only thinking that I wanted to help you.”

You stroked your fingers through his hair. “That’s what love is.”

“Mortal love,” he sighed. “I always thought it was flimsy and weak and short-lived.” His eyes opened again and he nestled into you. “It’s much stronger than I thought. So much more than I believed. It almost hurts, but it’s a good hurt.”

You started coughing again. Elwain swung himself up and gathered you into his arms. “I’ll take you back to bed,” he said. “You need to get better. I want to continue this.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. His heartbeat thudded against you, slow and steady. The feeling of him holding you swelled and ached inside you, a pleasant ache. You clung to him as he eased you into bed and settled in next to you. Your illness was all but forgotten. Everything was soft and pleasant under a heady wave of love.

#exophilia #fae #faerie #fae boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster lover #Fae lover

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago

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Hex Life

Fandom: WandaVision Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Jimmy Woo Rating: E Chapters: 10/10 Word Count: 34k

Summary: Guest starring Agent James E. Woo as himself and introducing Dr. Darcy Lewis as Mrs. Darcy Woo!

Or: Darcy and Jimmy are sent into the Hex to retrieve Captain Monica Rambeau. Finding out Westview has cast them as a married couple is only the first of the surprises that await them.

read ch. 1 one / 2 two / 3 three / 4 four / 5 five 6 six / 7 seven / 8 eight / 9 nine / 10 ten

this fic is now complete!

Jimmy’s going to be a dad. He was going to be a dad in a black-and-white sitcom world and now he’s going to be a dad in a world on the regular spectrum, so the colours really aren’t as big a deal as his impending fatherhood. Possible fatherhood. As much as he’s always secretly wanted his own little Jimmy Woo Jr., he didn’t know if it would be in the cards for him—pun obviously intended—and the last thing he wants to do is influence Darcy either way, especially since he’s only known her a couple days and doesn’t have a clue if a baby was really part of her life plan.

It can’t just be rose-coloured glasses making him see his wife warming to the idea though; when she continues down the hall ahead of Jimmy and Monica, he spots her careful cradling of the baby bump. He can barely stand not touching her. The instinct to shelter others has always been one of his strongest and now he feels it intensely. He longs to protect Darcy, to hold Darcy, to love— Well. Jimmy clears his throat at the very thought and Monica gives him a suspicious side-eyed glance.

“Dry throat,” he lies, tapping his neck in a probably highly unconvincing gesture.

“Uh huh.”

Yeah, she doesn’t sound convinced.

He’s rescued by a burst of sound from the bedroom and dashes ahead of Monica in case Darcy’s in trouble. When he bangs the bedroom door fully open, she’s fine. She’s laughing. He sighs and looks where she points. The queen-sized mattress they shared has changed back to a pair of narrower beds.

“Seriously,” Jimmy says flatly.

“Well, the big bed worked its magic,” Darcy concedes. She pats her rounded stomach. “Mission accomplished.”

“Aw jeeze.”

Ignoring his distress, she sits on the end of the closest bed.

“What I like is that they’re magically made. I didn’t end up having to change the sheets. This is really the next step in home technology.”

“Honey, don’t encourage the magical forces that control our home décor,” he pleads, beckoning until Darcy rises and takes his outstretched hand.

“Better than getting on their bad side. In the AI uprising, you wanna make sure you’re friends with the robots.”

This is an outrageous statement coming from a credible scientist, so Jimmy squints down at her for a minute before saying, “Thanks, house,” aloud, just in case appeasing the Hex now saves him from being closed into a room with no door later, if the walls rearrange to form the ’70s model of their current home.

“You did the smart thing,” Darcy assures him.

As they leave the room, she keeps hold of his hand. He shoots adoring glances at her.

“Hey, Monica,” she says, calling to their guest, who seems to have gone to investigate the walk-in closet. “Accommodations aren’t going to be a problem. I can give you some pajamas too because I think I own at least a dozen pairs, as I’m sure you’ve already discovered…”

But when they look in the closet it’s… not a closet.

“Or maybe the Hex destroyed all my pajamas and I should take back my overtures of friendship,” Darcy corrects.

“Welcome to your nursery,” Monica says. “I’m guessing from the look on Jimmy’s face that this is new.”

It’s spartan, but there’s no doubt in Jimmy’s mind that the room is now intended to be exactly what Monica said. There’s a crib in pieces on the carpet and a rocking chair in the corner. Though he can’t remember this room having even one window, there are now two. The blinds are drawn against the night and curtains patterned with stars and streaking comets hang from a rod mounted above the window. Automatically, he pulls Darcy into his side. He feels her rest her head on his shoulder.

“Man, the Hex is really giving us the hard sell,” she comments.

Just like that, he’s guiding her around by her upper arms and propelling her from the room. He glances over his shoulder to see Monica following with an amused smile. At his nod, she pulls the door shut.

“Ignore it,” Jimmy tells Darcy. “Don’t let that room influence you.”

“Oh, like that’s easy.” She rolls her eyes.

“I know it’s hard not to picture reading Jimmy Junior to sleep in his crib, or watching him learn to roll himself over on the carpet, or cuddling him in your arms in the rocking chair as the morning light—”

“Jimmy Junior?” Darcy asks, interrupting Jimmy’s rapidly solidifying daydream.

“You know what? I’m starving,” Monica announces, putting a hand on each of their shoulders to head off the awkward pause. “How about you two show me some hospitality? I’ve had a long day of being mind-controlled.”

“How ’bout some comfort food?” he asks. “I make a mean bowl of chili.”

“Sounds great.”

So, Jimmy cooks for them. His attention is unequally divided between the simmering pot, Monica leaning against the counter next to him as she recounts the scene at the meeting when Wanda went to take his call, and Darcy sifting pickily through the contents of their fridge. He glances over after putting the lid on the pot to let the chili finish cooking and sees his wife contemplatively holding an egg like it’s Yorick’s skull. Ok, well, he’s just going to leave her to her thoughts.

He sets bowls of chili for himself and Monica on the dining room table. Darcy, justifiably finnicky, takes longer to decide what she’ll be able to stomach, reflexively rubbing the baby bump as she plunders their kitchen. Finally, she comes to sit down. She’s brought a spoon. That’s it. Jimmy’s going to ask, but Darcy just scoots her chair close to his and takes intermittent mouthfuls of his serving while the conversation continues on. He sighs in unannoyed exasperation and alternates dips of his spoon with hers.

It’s just another weird routine they’ve settled into, and like everything else, it didn’t take long.

“You two didn’t know each other before this assignment, right?” Monica checks, motioning between Darcy and Jimmy with a slice of buttered toast.

“No, why?” Darcy asks, dropping a chunk of tomato from her spoon onto his. (Apparently, she doesn’t like tomatoes.)

Monica smiles and says, “No reason.”

She seems ready to accept them as they are, whatever they are. She goes back over the events of this afternoon for Darcy’s benefit—who was zoned out staring at an egg at the time—then the three of them turn to talk of tomorrow. What does Monica feel she needs to try before she’s willing to concede and leave the Hex with them? What can she try? How can Jimmy and Darcy assist her? They talk themselves in a circle of possibilities, limitations, and Monica’s unswerving negative answer to suggestions of her leaving the Hex without getting through to Wanda. Eventually, they decide that the best plan may be no plan, since they’re up against Westview’s ever-shifting magical properties.

“We’ll get up in the morning and see what the world looks like,” Monica says.

Jimmy’s going to reply when the Captain’s expression alters.

“Are you remembering?” Darcy asks her astutely. Monica stares at her. “I don’t want to pry, I’ve just seen that look on a lot of people’s faces lately. People who came back.”

“This isn’t dissimilar,” Monica admits. “When I get anywhere near Wanda or the other characters with speaking parts and start to lose control to… Geraldine—” Jimmy thinks the look on her face is both disgusted and deeply hurt. “—I do get this feeling like the world is going on without me. Only I’m there. I’m right there. I haven’t made up my mind yet if it’s worse than being gone entirely then coming back to find nothing’s the same.”

“Yeah,” Darcy says, soft, sympathetic.

“I don’t know what else the members of this community have been through, but I know I don’t want them to have to keep going through this too. I can’t imagine how tight Wanda’s grip is on the people who were here when she started this. Not sure I’m qualified to be the one to tell her how to let go of her grief and move on.”

Monica blinks quickly and gives a forced smile.

“That was good chili, Jimmy.”

He nods in thanks because he can’t find the right words to say.

They’re all carrying something and Jimmy thinks about that as the three of them clean up, then splinter off to get ready for bed, tired for different and shared reasons. (He changes into his pajamas in the nursery—they found their clothing in a new, regular-sized closet in the bedroom—while Monica and Darcy take the bathrooms.) The Captain’s carrying her recent bereavement and the unignorable sense of responsibility she feels to help Wanda and the Westviewers, possibly precisely because she isn’t ready to confront her own loss. Darcy’s doing some literal carrying with the baby bump her pajama top is buttoned over when she steps out of the en suite bathroom to let Jimmy in to brush his teeth. She’s an astrophysicist who, while studying a television diversion from reality, was brought rudely back to earth by circumstances as real as they come.

What Jimmy’s carrying is actually carrying him: his hope. It’s a good thing to have in his line of work, but a tough thing to keep when the world’s been through what it has. A baby is the least likely and most longed-for thing he would’ve confessed to wanting if someone asked him what was missing from his life.

When it’s acknowledged through awkward glances that, yes, Monica’s taking one of the beds and Jimmy and Darcy will share the other, he climbs under the covers his wife holds open for him. She rolls away from him to lie on her side and he gets comfortable on his back. The Hex has definitely eased up on what it wants for their romantic development because this is the first time he’s been in bed with Darcy and not felt himself caving to the need to have sex with her. Oh, the desire to touch her is as powerful as ever, but the kind of touching he craves is as tender as the flesh of that peach he brought her earlier in the day.

But he doesn’t want to crowd her. Figuratively or literally. Between finding Monica and calling Wanda, making love to Darcy all afternoon and being presented with her pregnant belly in the evening, it’s been a dog’s breakfast of a day. The mission abruptly became just the second most daunting thing he needs to pull off. Now, he’s driven by the impulse to be near Darcy. She doesn’t know it, but she’s drawing him in like gravity and he can only cross his fingers for a soft landing.

Jimmy almost jumps when she reaches for him in the dark, hand feeling behind her until it finds his. She drags his arm over her and he flips onto his side to make it easier. Though Darcy lets him go when his arm’s around her, he doesn’t know where to rest his hand. Tentatively, he places it over her belly and she wriggles back into him. Heart bursting, he holds her more securely to his body, smooths his hand over the bump, and soon falls asleep.

—

The floor wakes him up. He’s just fallen out of bed.

Disoriented, Jimmy sits up in a tangle of comforter and squints at his bed companion in the morning light. They must’ve repositioned while they slept, but that alone wasn’t what forced him to and over the edge—he can see the shape of Darcy’s belly beneath the sheet. It’s noticeably larger than it was yesterday.

He’s still trying to come to terms with that when she sleepily grasps the comforter and yanks it back over her body. Jimmy chuckles and rises into a stretch. Monica’s bed is empty and neatly made, so she must be up already. Before entering the Hex, his internal clock was strict too. Since, he bends to the needs of his subconscious, which seems happiest when it’s allowed to sleep in, particularly if Darcy’s warming the sheets next to him. This is only their third day in Westview and the second time waking up here, but it feels wonderfully routine. As satisfying as completing his consistently-timed morning run or pouring exactly the right amount of milk into his cereal.

Although he’d like to let Darcy sleep, it’s weird now because he’s staring. Anyway, they need to tighten up their operations even further today if they’re going to get out of here soon. Monica requires either success or closure with Wanda, so Jimmy’s determined to help with that. And if Darcy’s pregnancy takes another leap forward, well… that’s another time crunch to consider.

She’s lying on her side, facing him, belly in the space where he fell asleep. Gently, he brushes hair out of her face and strokes lightly up and down her arm.

Darcy gives him a murmured “Hi” with her eyes still shut.

“You gonna get up?”

“Inaminute,” she promises, words running together.

“Alright.”

Jimmy hovers for a second, then darts down to kiss her forehead. She pats his shoulder clumsily in response.

He might as well have had his own eyes shut, blind to everything but Darcy, because it takes opening his wardrobe to realize Monica was correct—everything’s changed again. WandaVision has embraced the ’70s. The shirts and suits he was pretty comfortable with have been traded out. Those items still exist, but now they’re aggressively patterned. There are flared pant legs. There is so much corduroy. Out of the row of shoes tucked into the bottom on his side of the closet, half have platform heels.

“Oh god,” Jimmy groans softly, sifting through for something that won’t feel too much like a cheesy costume.

He ends up with jeans—his only pair of pants without a pattern—and a striped shirt with wide lapels. The Hex’s makeover of his closet has him so beaten down that he doesn’t even pick out a jacket. He doesn’t have the heart for business casual. At the sight of a long-sleeved jumpsuit, Jimmy closes the closet door securely. They have to get out of here. This will be the thing that breaks him.

Slouching into the bathroom, he drops his selections on the counter and takes a shower. As he washes his hair, his fingers slow their scrubbing. Is his hair… longer? He finishes quickly and steps out to find the mirror fogged with steam. He wipes it clean with his forearm, examining his reflection. This place isn’t through with him yet: the Hex has given him a mustache.

Jimmy screams.

“Fine!” Darcy shouts back to his wordless noise of dismay. “I’m up! God, you could’ve just set an alarm and OH MY GOD, HAVE YOU SEEN THE SIZE OF THIS BABY BUMP?!”

He sighs on behalf of himself and his wife, slicks his too-long wet hair back with a comb, then starts in on shaving off the mustache. It immediately grows back.

“Come on,” he complains, cursing the Hex. “Why’d you give me a razor then?!”

Luckily, his annoyance fades the minute he sees Darcy. She’s swearing up a storm about needing to pee and her head looking too small for her body because the Hex has straightened her hair, but he takes all of her restless irritation in with a dazed smile on his face. Adjusting her glasses—now almost circular, with rounded off corners—she catches sight of his new look and erupts into laughter. Whatever the Hex does to mess with their appearance, at least they’re each other’s best medicine to combat it.

“I don’t want to be insensitive,” Monica starts when they walk into the kitchen hand in hand, “but are you significantly more pregnant than you were yesterday?”

Jimmy watches Darcy nod and slips away from her to throw some more bread in the toaster from the bag Monica’s left out on the counter for them.

“You’d think it’s just this big, shapeless dress,” Darcy says, “but no.” She pulls the fabric taut over her stomach to show the size of her belly more accurately. “I don’t want to say it, but the size of this thing makes me think the Hex is leaving me room to grow.”

“And if that dress is only for today…” Monica says.

“Jeepers,” Jimmy concludes.

They eat together in their reconfigured living room. It’s not until Monica’s kicked back in one of their low chairs, ankle propped on her opposite knee, that Jimmy notices her patterned pants.

“Those aren’t from Darcy’s closet are they?”

“No. I’m assuming they’re my clothes from yesterday with the matter recycled for a new decade. Believe me, this outfit wouldn’t have been my choice if I had anything else to pick from.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure. I had a whole closet and still ended up with this,” Jimmy says, motioning to himself.

“My retro Secret Agent Man,” Darcy states admiringly, leaning her head over to bump against his shoulder. Ok, he thinks, smiling at her, I can be alright with this for her.

When Monica rises to turn on the television, Jimmy realizes this is the first time they’ve had one in the house. He remembers seeing a set in the Vision residence when he and Darcy were watching an episode on the S.W.O.R.D. base, but he didn’t notice the lack once they got here. Probably because that first night was taken up with flirting, and then yesterday was split between scouring the downtown for Monica and holing up in the bedroom with Darcy. Watching the screen buzz to life now is like witnessing something truly futuristic and spectacular.

“Well, whaddaya know,” he says as the opening sequence of WandaVision begins.

“You think the TVs in here play anything else?” Darcy wonders aloud.

“Maybe not,” Monica says distractedly as they all turn their attention to Wanda and Vision’s adorable antics—the ice cream, the tandem bicycle. “It’s a pretty big coincidence that this show started right when I turned it on.”

“I can see an even bigger coincidence.”

There’s no need to guess what Darcy means. Wanda’s baby bump is obvious in nearly every shot of the introduction, particularly emphasized when she and Vision dance together, his hand on her belly. It’s all maternity clothes and Vision reading pregnancy books and while it’s wholesome, it’s also chilling.

“We’re doing the same plot,” Jimmy says.

“It’s like we’re… their understudies,” Darcy agrees, shrinking back into the cushions.

“Maybe Wanda figured, if you two wanted to be in the show so bad, she’d put you in the show,” Monica theorizes. “Her show. Exactly the way she’s living it.”

“So she’s teaching us a lesson? On what? Abstinence?”

“Could be a misguided attempt to gain your sympathy.”

“Or it really is all about control,” Jimmy suggests, cynical after the reveal that the pregnancy that’s upended his entire life isn’t really theirs. It’s not original. They’re following a Newlywed Couple template.

“Hey,” Darcy says, grabbing his arm, “this wasn’t all Wanda. She might’ve set the scene and, yeah, maybe we were more the goatherd puppets than we were Fraulein Maria and Captain von Trapp, but we did this.” She pulls his hand to her belly. “Wanda doesn’t decide what we do next.”

“What I suggest you not do next is consult Dr. Misogyny over here,” Monica says, gesturing at the television.

The doctor is condescending to Wanda and Vision about the facts of life during a checkup (in their living room?). He lowers himself even further in Jimmy’s regard when he refers to expectant mothers as “little ladies” and implies that the changes in their own bodies are beyond their understanding.

“What a quack,” he decides. “We’re not going to see that guy.” He’s startled to recall his promise to Darcy the previous evening, about options, his intention not to make up her own mind for her. Lowering his voice, he tilts his head close to hers. “I mean, we’ll do whatever you want. Including…”

Jimmy trails off and casts his eyes down. He still means it, wants Darcy on board with this 100% or not at all, but the whole thing’s been a roller coaster and he’s not great at pretending not to feel anything. With his wife so much further into her pregnancy today, it’s obvious that this baby will be born and they’ll need to decide who’s raising it. He thinks the two of them together could rear a pretty incredible kid, but if she wants out, is he prepared to be a single parent? The other option besides her, him, or both of them raising the baby is adoption. They’d need to leave the Hex before taking those steps (it’s not like he’s going to encourage Darcy to hand the baby over to a mind-controlled Westviewer), and just thinking about it, with everything he already feels for the baby, makes him certain that he’d rather rearrange his entire life than pass on this chance at a family. However unorthodox their beginnings.

“Don’t worry,” Darcy says calmly, pulling him from his spiral. “That guy will never get the chance to compare my uterus to a vegetable garden.”

“Fruit,” Monica corrects without looking away from the television.

“Right. Fruit. He’ll have no say about any of it. And he definitely won’t get the opportunity to be patronizing as fuck while he tries to give us the sex talk.” She looks Jimmy right in the eye and says, “I won’t let the asshole doctor-man say a word about your banana.”

Chuckling, he looks back to the screen. The doctor has departed and Vision’s currently baffled over Wanda’s newly expanded stomach. Uh oh. He jerks his head around to check and, yep, Darcy’s baby bump appears to be keeping up with the sitcom star’s.

“You two stay here,” Monica instructs, on her feet when Jimmy glances over.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“To Wanda’s. If things continue at this rate, she could give birth in this episode. That’s going to make her even more protective of her family and her space and I’ll have an even harder time getting near her.”

“Are you sure you want to interrupt?”

They both glance at the television for a moment to observe Wanda and Vision debating baby names in the nursery. There’s nothing distressing about the scene—in fact, the couple looks as much at ease as Jimmy’s seen them on the show—but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t change, and quickly, if Monica inserted herself. He just isn’t sure how that would go and he doesn’t like any plan where he can’t foresee all the possible outcomes.

“Guess I just have a feeling,” Monica says, looking unsettled.

“Well,” Darcy pipes up, “in the world of science, having a feeling is forming a theory, and in this place… I think having a feeling you should do something might be Wanda giving you your cue.”

“You’re not beyond her control,” Jimmy tells Monica, “just farther away from it. What if Darcy’s right?”

“If Wanda wants me there, I’m not going to resist,” she replies firmly. “She’s the key and we need her cooperation.”

“Good luck,” Darcy bids her.

With a nod to them both, Monica strides across the living room and opens the front door.

“Speaking of keys,” Jimmy recalls, but the door shuts before he can offer to let her borrow their car to get to Wanda’s.

Maybe the Captain has a different plan. Maybe she’s just bending to Wanda’s influence. Whichever it is, he can’t go after her. Monica was right—he has to stay here with Darcy today, especially because her belly seems larger when he looks again. He glances at her face with a question on his and she nods.

“And I felt a kick,” she says.

“Really? Could I…? Do you think I could…?”

Darcy rolls her eyes at his reticence and guides both his hands to the bump. When he feels something nudge his palm, Jimmy tears up.

“That’s our baby,” Darcy confirms.

“Feels like they have my softball windup,” he murmurs.

“Or my pre-coffee restlessness.”

“Our baby,” Jimmy repeats, staring into her eyes—finally blue for the first time in days, give or take a decade.

They’re having a marvelous family moment until the power goes out. Lights, TV, the hum of the fridge in the kitchen, everything. Seconds later, it all comes back.

“That was strange.”

“I wondered what Wanda’s magic was doing to the power grid,” Darcy says. “I’m still curious about the finer points of what happens when electricity meets power generated by an Infinity Stone. Really, I’d expect Wanda to have this kinda thing under control, but I guess if she’s— Ugh!”

Her pained noise has Jimmy cupping her face, pushing back her hair, trying to figure out what happened.

“She’s distracted,” she says.

“By what?”

“Labour.”

“What? No.”

Sure enough, when Darcy stands (with Jimmy leaping to his feet to support her) and stretches her back, her bump looks big enough to contain a baby that’s almost ready to be born. Ready to be born?! Jimmy thinks. In our house? With no doctor? Just because the one on TV rubbed him the wrong way doesn’t mean he’s prepared to write off every doctor, nurse, and midwife in Westview. He would very much like to place responsibility for this delivery in the hands of a medical professional, not his own!

Even as the TV’s flickering back to life, he helps Darcy away from it. That just shows how serious things are. He knows how quickly she became invested in the sitcom when they reviewed the ’50s episode at the base.

After some frantic thought, he’s thinking the bathtub is going to have to do. People do that right? With home births? Although he attempts to guide Darcy in that direction, she doesn’t even want to sit down on the edge, let alone climb in. No, she wants to pace, and as she paces, she rubs at her lower back, wincing.

“We could look at the nursery,” he proposes. “Might take your mind off it.”

Jimmy knows it could be a weak suggestion, an insult to imply that anything could take Darcy’s mind off whatever discomfort she’s currently feeling, but the Hex, with its radioactive walls, smiles down on them for once. With his arm around her to take some of her weight, they hobble into the baby’s room and it’s… perfect.

The walls are dark blue near the ceiling, almost black, fading to periwinkle halfway down the wall. The lower portion transitions from blue to pale yellow, then a blazing orange right before the baseboard.

“It’s a sunrise,” he comprehends.

“Yeah,” Darcy says softly.

Though he feels like he got slightly ripped off by not being allowed a chance to do any of the decorating, he does admire the Hex’s choices. At last, his wife’s been represented in this space, in this house, and it’s beautiful. There’s a shelf full of space-themed board books, a plastic jumble of play versions of scientific tools like telescopes. A dangling mobile of the planets. After easing his wife into the rocking chair, Jimmy holds up a pack of glow-in-the-dark stars.

“Should I put these up?”

She smiles.

“I would be all over that shit if I could, but I trust you to do a good job.”

“Oh no. Do you want me to do real constellations?”

“The baby’s not gonna know the difference. Make it look however you want.”

She rocks, assuring him something about the motion is helping her manage the intensifying pain of her contractions, and Jimmy finds a small stepping stool to help him reach the ceiling. The sway of the chair in the corner of his eye, the morning light through the curtains, and the sound of Darcy breathing are things he already knows he’ll never forget.

Before he’s stuck all the stars in the pack to the ceiling’s white paint, she calls him down from the stool.

“I need to walk again.”

Darcy says it with grit and Jimmy doesn’t argue, even when walking appears to put her in even more distress; she groans and pushes her free hand against the wall as they stroll out of the nursery and down the hallway.

“Let’s check in with Wanda,” Jimmy says helplessly.

This is who he is now: a husband in over his head, desperate to gain tips about delivering a baby from a TV sitcom. An overwhelmed real estate agent. A man with a mustache.

They return to the living room and the TV playing WandaVision in time for Monica’s entrance. Based on her free use of ’70s slang and the general discord between the Captain Rambeau Jimmy’s been getting to know and the woman on the screen, he knows they’re looking at Geraldine. Wanda’s back in control of her character alright, and Jimmy wants to know who it’s helping. The scene’s centered around some joke about Wanda attempting to hide her pregnancy, which is no good for him. He needs a step-by-step guide, not a magic-resistant stork!

“There better not be a fucking bird in here,” Darcy gripes, alternately crouching and standing as every position fails to make her comfortable. “If I see a fucking, goddamn, sonofabitch, motherfucking—”

“I know, sweetie, I know,” Jimmy assures her, rubbing circles between her shoulder blades with the flat of his hand.

“The betrayal,” she mutters when Wanda elects to lie down behind a couch.

It completely blocks their view. If this were a regular show, Jimmy would understand that. Sitcom viewers would definitely appreciate a little TV magic over graphic, up-close-and-personal birth footage, but here at the Woo residence, one FBI agent and his astrophysicist wife really just want the truth! If Monica had agency, he’s sure she’d shove the couch aside to help them out, but with Geraldine at the helm, he’s confronting the fact that he and Darcy are on their own.

“Let’s go, Darcy,” he says, steering her towards the bathroom. “We don’t need her.”

“Are you sure?”

He’s never heard Darcy sound so uncertain and knows he’ll have to bluff his way through this. When the Avengers aren’t around, the regular people must step up. Reminding himself of that has gotten Jimmy through more than one tough day on the job and he tells himself it’ll get them both through this.

“Of course.”

In the bathroom, Darcy kicks out of her underwear and uses Jimmy as a crutch to climb into the tub. Her face is scrunched up severely and her hands are braced against the walls of the bathtub, so he tries to watch and understand what she needs. When all the tension in her face and body burst out in a shout, he grabs her hand. Her fingers curl around his palm in a death grip.

“How about some nice warm water? Water, Darcy?”

She nods rapidly, eyes clenched shut, and he turns on the facet, then quickly reaches behind her to plug the drain. The stream wets his sleeve and, when he withdraws his arm, hits her hair around the level of her shoulders and begins to soak the back of her dress. Between contractions, Darcy sighs in what sounds like relief.

“That feels good,” she acknowledges.

“Good,” is all Jimmy can say back. He kisses her face and squeezes her hand in his. “Good.”

He’s back to scrambling for a solution soon enough when the warm flow of water down her back stops being enough to soothe her. He helps her out of her sodden dress, tossing it behind him to splat on the tile floor.

“What do you need?” he asks wildly, leaning over the tub.

“Earplugs,” Darcy tells him before emitting a scream shrill enough to probably be heard by their neighbour’s dog, Dipper, down the street.

Jimmy doesn’t think, he just does. Snatching a towel off the rail, bracing his wife’s foot against his shoulder as her leg spasms, reaching into the water to collect their baby when the Hex (he assumes) does them the favour of letting one long push be sufficient to expel him. Him. Jimmy and Darcy’s son.

He’s beaming through the happy tears, delicately wiping at the wailing baby with the towel and passing him into Darcy’s outstretched arms as she shakes with astonished laughter, hair wet, head resting back against the jut of the faucet.

“That wasn’t so hard,” he jokes.

Darcy sits up, sending a splash of water over the side of the bathtub to slap the floor, and he knows the Hex is interfering again to make her capable of anything besides exhaustion after what she just accomplished. She twists sideways in the tub until she’s closer to Jimmy. He wraps an arm around her wet shoulders and peers down at the face of their boy, already drowsy after exercising his tiny lungs. Jimmy can feel Darcy studying his face.

“Jimmy Woo Junior?” she asks.

And he knows the rest is going to be gravy.

—

Inside the Hex, the magic of television is real. They didn’t need to fake Darcy’s pregnancy with a cushion to make her belly, round and taut as a beach ball, disappear entirely only minutes after giving birth. They didn’t need a set of twins or triplets playing Jimmy Woo Jr. to swap in a quiet baby for one that starts to cry. There’s no trick lighting or fudged angles, just Darcy sitting on the couch (in dry, non-maternity clothes) catching their amazingly calm, less than an hour-old son up on the details of his origin story—Darcy’s wording.

It’s shaping up to be a nice, if highly unusual, family day in, until the tension starts to mount on-screen. Probably something Jimmy could’ve caught sooner if he weren’t spending 50 seconds out of every minute stroking the baby’s teeny-weeny hands while he hopes Jimmy Jr. retains zero memory of his dad’s mustache. When he hears Monica mention Wanda’s brother by name, he’s fully alert to the episode and knows he has to act. That close to Wanda, Monica’s control should be fully suppressed beneath the character of Geraldine. If she’s breaking through to ask Wanda person questions, questions that are almost definitely going to provoke an emotional response, Monica must be fighting like crazy to surface. Jimmy decides that’s his signal to get over there and help bring this thing to a satisfying conclusion so they can all leave the Hex.

“You’re not going to Wanda’s without me,” Darcy informs him, planted in front of the door when Jimmy returns from grabbing his keys.

“Darcy, you can’t. The baby. I’d stay with him and let you go, but I’ve never heard you mention particular skill in hand-to-hand combat and I can’t guarantee things won’t turn violent.”

She snorts.

“Liar. I could be the world’s biggest hand-to-hand badass and you’d still be trying to protect me right now.”

He stares at her and Darcy stubbornly lifts her chin as she holds his eyes.

“Ok,” Jimmy concedes, “yes, I would.”

“Please don’t leave us here,” she says, cheek pressed to the baby’s. No, no, no, he can already feel himself wanting to surrender, to have them with him. Darcy kisses their son’s face, then holds his hand to gesture while she pitches her voice higher, pretending to speak for Jimmy Jr. “I want to meet Auntie Monica.”

He gives her a look and reaches past her to open the door. Instead of trying to exit around his family, he waves Darcy through ahead of him. (She looks down at the baby in her arms and goes “Yaaaay! Isn’t Daddy a soft touch?”)

“You didn’t persuade me,” he says, leading them to the car and holding the door for Darcy while she climbs into the back seat with the baby. “This is strategic.”

“Is the strategy common sense? I feel like you should’ve gone with that from the beginning. Bringing a scientist to a magic fight is good thinking, for, like, balance and shit.”

Jimmy backs down the driveway as gently as he can. Their car’s been modernized (well, for the latest decade) and while it now has seatbelts, it wasn’t equipped with a car seat for their son. He’s going to have to drive with the utmost care.

“Hopefully, there won’t be a fight,” he reminds Darcy, “but if there is, you won’t be anywhere near it. You and Jimmy Junior are staying in the car. Alright?”

When he darts his gaze to the rear-view mirror, he sees his wife looking out her window, making a show of not listening to him. Jimmy sighs.

Without thinking, he navigates back to the street where they dropped Monica off yesterday. Wanda’s house is just down from Dottie’s; he remembers the number from watching WandaVision. Jimmy draws up to the curb and parks. He glances back at Darcy, but she’s still ignoring him.

“I’ll try to be right back,” he tells her anyway, eyes dropping longingly to the serene face of his sleeping son. He’s heard that about babies and car rides.

Jogging up the driveway, he does a doubletake of a ragged slash in the wall between Wanda’s property and her neighbour’s. There’s not exactly anything wrong with a damaged cinderblock or an amateur handyman job, but the crevice in the stone stands out in a world so aggressively styled and manicured.

Wishing for the reassurance of his gun at his hip in case things go south (it’s the first time he’s even thought about the gun since the night he and Darcy arrived), Jimmy enters the Vision residence without knocking.

Orienting himself to what he was just watching on TV in a house less than a mile from here, he walks across the entryway, attracting the attention of both Wanda and Monica. They’re standing across from each other in the living room. Raising his hands to show he intends no harm, Jimmy sweeps his eyes over the scene in assessment, like he has a hundred times before. Monica’s expression is alarmed under superficial friendliness—the look of someone trying to placate an attacker. With her aggressive, forward-leaning posture and the way she’s positioned herself between Monica and the cribs (he’s surprised to see more than one, but he did miss some of the episode while he was delivering his son in their bathtub), Wanda fits that role.

“Wanda,” he says, taking a step towards the seating area, “you don’t want to hurt her.”

“Are you working with her?” Wanda demands. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you before.”

“James Woo. I’m not here to hurt you. Neither is Geraldine.”

“You don’t want to hurt me? Then why do you come asking questions? Saying things—” He can see her chin wobble from here as she teeters on the edge of tears. “—about Pietro. You didn’t know my brother.”

Her statement is directed at Monica, but Jimmy tries to bring her focus back to him. Of himself and the Captain, he’s the one with an exit at his back, whereas Monica’s hemmed in by a large bookcase.

“I didn’t know your brother,” Jimmy agrees. “I do know about him, but we don’t need to talk about that. I don’t want to upset you, Wanda, I just want you to let me leave with Geraldine.”

“Oh, I’ll let you leave,” Wanda says, cocking her head as she raises her hands. This motion conveys the opposite meaning to Jimmy’s—she does intend them harm.

He’s contemplating what’ll happen if he tries to rush her when Darcy charges through the front door he left open.

“Don’t!” Jimmy gasps, making a grab for her, but his body is tense with caution and Darcy has the momentum to dodge him, stepping down the level into the living room.

“Look,” Darcy demands of Wanda, whose expression is torn as she chooses between facing Monica and this new intruder.

Jimmy’s mentally composing and rejecting ideas of how to proceed when their unwelcoming host lowers her hands. She’s looking where Darcy directed her to, at the baby in Darcy’s arms.

“He was born less than an hour ago, and I only found out I was pregnant yesterday, but that doesn’t matter. I know it’s the same for you, the circumstances and the… yeah, whatever. You know about the Big Bang, right?” she continues, jumping to the next thought.

“Yes,” Wanda says carefully.

Jimmy’s terrified to move closer and set Wanda on the offensive again. He glances at Monica, who seems to be thinking the same thing, frozen in place.

“From nothing to so much, in an instant,” Darcy’s saying in her condensed history of the universe. “Science is supposed to be full of all these rules. Like, every scientist dude important enough to remember had some law or formula or method that we map everything on top of when we’re pretending we understand all this. Being in science isn’t a goal I’ve had for a long time—I mean, I probably wouldn’t be in it now if the world hadn’t more or less ended—and if all I ever heard about the workings of the universe was rules, I would’ve stayed away. Who likes rules, right? Who wants to be told that things are the way they are because something outside of your control says so? My point is…”

She takes a deep breath, then another one, shifting until she’s blocking Wanda’s expression from Jimmy’s view.

“Sorry, I just gave birth, you know how it is,” Darcy says when she goes on. Jimmy’s stricken with exasperation, adoration, fear, and pride. “My point is that I love science because, while science is laws and rules and equations, science is also standing outside at night and staring up at the dark. There are explanations for every light that’s up there and why, even when you’re away from big cities and the sky seems so black and close, you don’t fall up into it, although it kinda feels like you could. Science can tell me why, and it still feels like magic when I look at the stars. And we’ve all been traveling out here in space together, getting made and unmade and made again because the right ingredients needed to create something as precious as a planet, or a baby, or the clay that’ll make the bricks that’ll make the house never disappear. Suns explode, asteroids collide and get chipped away… things can separate down to their smallest part, life can…”

“End?” Wanda asks.

Jimmy’s stunned to hear the word come out choked. Cautiously, he leans to get a glimpse of Wanda’s face. It’s covered in tears. Darcy’s nodding.

“But everything’s valuable. All matter gets reused.” Jimmy wants to grab her and pull her to safety when she takes a step closer to Wanda. “I get it if you’re sad and you’re not ready to talk about it. I’m not gonna say it’s ok, because I’ve heard Monica’s testimonial on exactly how much it sucks to have you in her head, but I do think you should let us leave now so you have a few friends out there when you inevitably need people on your side.”

“You can go,” Wanda agrees, swiping at her nose. “I won’t hurt your baby.”

“You’re not going to hurt my friend either,” Darcy says, beckoning for Monica to cross the room behind her. “Or my husband.”

“No,” Wanda says.

Monica reaches Jimmy and they wait for Darcy in the entryway.

“I bet all that control feel really good,” Darcy theorizes. “Taking it into your own hands. But I think you know that focusing on the beautiful, magical stuff doesn’t mean the rules no longer exist. Maybe you can find a way to accept them both.”

“It’s time for you to leave,” Wanda says, firmer now.

“Not looking for a life coach, got it.”

She joins Jimmy and Monica, bouncing the baby lightly in her arms. Wanda ushers them out of the house ahead of her. Jimmy glances back to see her close the door after herself with a twist and red glow of her hands.

“What about waiting in the car?” he mutters to Darcy as they stride down the lawn.

His self-proclaimed wife stares at him.

“I’m not the kind of person who waits in the car. Would the kind of person who waits in the car give a speech like that?”

Jimmy’s at an honest-to-goodness loss for words.

She gets into the car willingly enough now, Jimmy in the passenger’s seat while Monica slides behind the wheel.

“Wanda’s told me how to stand, how to move, how to walk since I got in here,” Monica says, turning the key in the ignition. “I’m driving myself out.”

“It’ll part for you when you get there,” Wanda calls to them from the lawn. “The barrier. I suggest you do not attempt to enter again.”

“I think we’ve all had our fill,” Jimmy informs her cheerfully through his rolled-down window.

She doesn’t respond to this, so Monica executes a three-point turn and takes them back up the street the way they came. From there, they turn out of the subdivision, but Jimmy snags a last look at Wanda through the back window. There’s a light breeze blowing her dress and hair and she looks like she could be anyone. A suburban mom of twins? Why not. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever see her again in person, but he has plans to catch her show.

“Wanda’s changed the roads,” Monica says as she drives. For his son’s sake, Jimmy’s grateful that she isn’t speeding, though he wouldn’t blame her for trying to get out of here as quickly as possible. “None of them lead out of town.”

“Literal tourist trap. Brilliant,” Darcy declares from the back seat. Jimmy reaches an arm back blindly and feels her close her hand around his.

“But,” Monica adds, “I remember Ellis Avenue being the closest cross street to the edge of town. We find that, then drive over the grass. Things may get a little bumpy.”

“We’ll survive.”

Jimmy twists around to look at Darcy. He nods. They will. They’ll survive.

They cross Ellis and take the car off-road. The barrier remains invisible, but…

“I can feel it,” Darcy says.

“Like we did the day we came in,” Jimmy recalls.

“It still wants us out,” Monica interprets. He sees her staring uneasily ahead. “Was I naïve to think I could change anything by coming in here?”

“No, Captain. It was brave.”

“Didn’t work though. We aren’t leaving with Wanda.”

“It could work,” Darcy says. “We left her with a few things to think about. We’ll watch WandaVision and see.”

“That’ll be strange after being a part of it.”

“You think so?” Jimmy wonders. He takes a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air and the sunshine, playing with Darcy’s fingers laced through his. “I think it’s returning to regular life that’s going to feel strange. Out there, it’s easy to see all this as a TV show, but everything in here is real.”

“We’ll make Hayward understand that.”

“I’m bringing back some compelling evidence,” Darcy says, followed by kissy sounds directed at Jimmy Jr.

The air just a couple of car lengths ahead of them abruptly glows red as Wanda reveals the wall of the Hex. Jimmy and Monica exchange a look, but she doesn’t slow down. They pass through without resistance. All of a sudden, it’s night. Monica lets out a relieved sigh.

The S.W.O.R.D. base is looming, exterior lights ablaze, but Jimmy looks backwards, checking that Darcy and the baby are alright.

“Same as you left us,” she says, pulling back the blanket to show him the face of his son.

He gives her a slightly melancholic smile.

“Not quite, Dr. Lewis.”

“I’ll have a lot of work to do,” Darcy notes thoughtfully, “but time for you and me to go on dates will be on my list of demands.”

“You have a list of demands?” Monica asks, laughter in her voice.

“After being forced into the Hex, where I could’ve lost my life? Fuck yes, I have a list.”

“What else are you asking for?”

“The coffee I requested on day one and a desk in a better spot so there’s room next to it for the crib that will also be on my list.”

Monica laughs aloud now.

“Is this a benefits negotiation or a baby shower registry?”

“Let’s get back to the part where we’re going on dates,” Jimmy says. “How’s that going to work?”

“Jimmy, darlin’,” Darcy begins, “will you go out with me?”

He leans to look around his seat at her.

“Darcy, we were married. We have a baby. Don’t you think we can—”

“Answer the question, Agent Woo.”

“Of course I’ll go out with you,” he says.

“And that’s how it works. Easy-peasy.”

She gives his hand a squeeze before releasing it to hold Jimmy Jr. more securely as Monica pulls up to a building and brakes. Already, S.W.O.R.D. agents are rushing out to meet them, but Jimmy drops back against his seat and smiles to himself.

“‘Easy-peasy.’”

#my writing #Hex Life #wandavision #wandavision spoilers #Darcy Lewis #Jimmy Woo #Darcy Lewis x Jimmy Woo #Darcy x Jimmy

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poutyyybangtan · 4 years ago

Text

ready or not - j.jk

genre: friends to lovers, enemy to lovers, (almost a slow burn?), a mix of everything lol character pairing: jeon jungkook 9bts) x female oc warnings: not really any lol just angsty fluff kinda stuff word count: 5.4k (it’s alot) authors note: i wrote this months ago and it’s not finished but i can finish it if yall want? let me know :)

______

(prompts from @im-here-to-help-you-all-write)

“i think the longer you look at it, the worse it gets.” “yeah, kinda like your face.”

“i need your help.” “holy shit, i never thought i’d hear you say that.’ “please don’t rub it in right now.”

“i don’t feel like i’m ready for this yet” “you’re going to have to be, because we’re out of time.”

you can’t believe you actually had to do this. the last person you ever wanted to look at was your only shot at getting out of the situation you brought upon yourself. you had originally counted on one of your other friends to help you out, but of course, life never seemed to work out the way you wanted it to.

“jin, please. can’t you just cancel and come with me?” you begged, watching as your older companion continued to chop away at some vegetables.

“you know i would love to help bamboozle your family with my impeccable acting skills, but unfortunately, i do have a business to run. this weekend is a big deal for the restaurant and joon would kill me if i left him alone to handle such a thing. and besides, we all know joon can’t toast bread without having to call the fire department first,” jin laughs. you laugh softly, knowing jin had a point. poor namjoon had amazing business skills, but unfortunately that means he lacks in the cooking department.

“i guess you’re right,” you mumble begrudgingly.

“why not ask jimin if he can go?” jin asks, sliding the chopped vegetables into a pot.

“my mom knows him, she’ll know something isn’t right. and besides, he and hobi are going to a dance camp for school,” you shrug.

“and tae? yoongi?” jin asks.

“he’s got that test retake for his photography class and yoongs has an audition for an entertainment company in gangnam,” you sigh. you’re really proud of all your friends and the successes they have, but you really wished they could’ve helped you in your time of need. but you couldn’t be that selfish, so maybe you had to admit defeat.

“you know, you could just ask jungkook,” jin asks nonchalantly.

“you know i can’t do that,” you answer bluntly, refusing to even entertain the idea.

“i mean, you could,” jin laughs, putting the lid on the pot and onto the stove top, turning to you afterwards.

“jin, you know i can’t. he is the last person on earth i would ask to help me. i would rather die of embarrassment than to ask him for his help,” you dramatically claim.

“you just might if you don’t ask. besides, what's the big deal? it’s only for a weekend,” jin shrugs.

“yeah, a whole weekend of him pretending to be my boyfriend. jin, we can barely tolerate each other as is, having us cooped up together and pretending like we actually like each other is a whole other ball game,” you said.

“well, here’s the way i look at it. either you tell your mother that you don’t have a boyfriend and face embarrassment at your mother's wedding, or you can suck it up, ask jungkook nicely to do you this one favor, and have fun this weekend. you never know, jungkook might actually be up for it,” jin says, an underlying suggestive tone in his voice; one that you never caught.

you had to admit, jin was right. as painful as it was, jungkook was your only chance at escaping this nightmarish weekend.

you found jungkook in his usual zone of comfort: with his lips attached to some random girl he probably barely knew. you found yourself scrunching your face in distaste. such a vulgar display in a library no less. you huffed off your second doubts and approached the table with confidence. you noticed that neither party acknowledged your presence, so you knocked on the table to gain their attention. reluctantly, the girl pulled away first to throw you a bitter look.

“jeon, can we talk?” you say softly, not trying to cause a disturbance.

“i’m kind of busy, can’t it wait?” jungkook asks, a smug look on his face, the girl sat next to him donned a complacent smile on hers.

“please, i saw you making out with some bimbo blonde yesterday, i’m sure you can find some other toy to play with when we’re done,” you smirk, watching the look on the girls face fall with every passing word that escaped your lips. she glanced over at jungkook with disgust before grabbing her belongings and walking away in a fit.

“great, well there goes my whole afternoon,” jungkook scoffs. he leans into his chair, folding his arms over his chest.

“you’ll deal. look, i need your help,” you admit, much to your dismay.

“holy shit, i never thought i’d hear you say that,” jungkook laughs ironically.

“please don’t rub it in right now,” you groan.

“how can i offer my service to you?” jungkook smirks, looking up at your obviously irritated figure.

“i need... i can’t believe i’m saying this. i need you to be my boyfriend for the weekend,” you spit out.

“you what?” jungkook asks incredulously. you don’t blame him for his confusion. what you were asking was heinous, add to the fact that you two barely tolerated each other? it was the biggest taboo situation you could’ve put yourself in. but you were desperate.

your mother, as loving as she was, was relentless. she just wanted the best for you. you were about to graduate college soon, about to get a real career and be a real adult. and to her, that meant start a family as soon as possible. and that couldn’t happen without being in a relationship first. and what better way than to hook your daughter up at a gathering for family friends? cause nothing says love like a wedding, right?

“what’s in it for me?” jungkook asks. you looked at him in disbelief.

“wait, you’re actually considering it?” you asked.

“well, you gave me a proposition, so why not?” jungkook asks.

“uh, because we’re not necessarily friends? it’s not like you owe me anything to even consider the idea,” you chuckle.

“you might not be my friend, but that doesn’t mean i’m not yours,” jungkook shrugs, finally standing up and collecting his scattered books. you hadn’t actually noticed them before, you just thought that the library was a good place for jungkook to hook up, not an actual study zone.

“well, uh, what do you have in mind?” you asked, answering his question finally.

“i need a date for this work thing, and my usual hookups aren't going to cut it. they’re not exactly what you would say… modest?” jungkook jokes, causing you to laugh a little bit.

“sound like a deal?” jungkook asks after a moment of silence passes. you pretend to consider his proposition, as if you actually had a choice. you look up at him and you can see that he saw that too.

“what kind of work thing?”

“where are you going?” jimin asks, watching you step out of your bedroom clad in a cocktail dress. you really would’ve rather been at your shared apartment, cuddled up next to jimin and tae watching some horror film eating greasy food, but alas, you had to uphold your end of the bargain.

“remember i told you that in order for jungkook to uphold his end, i have to uphold mine? apparently, he works at some magazine company and they’re having a company gathering to celebrate the issue's 90th anniversary and he needed me to come with,” you groan, strapping on your heels.

“you’re going all out for this,” taehyung comments, a teasing tone hidden in his words. you looked up and glared at him, knowing what he meant.

“if i put forth 100%, maybe he will too,” you say.

“oh, he most definitely will be putting in 100% effort,” jimin says, low enough for only taehyung to hear which makes him giggle. you look up and see jimin smirking at you which makes you groan internally.

suddenly, the doorbell rings and you thank whatever being there is that saves you from the conversation that was happening, with or without your participation. you pull the door open and the first thing you see is jungkook, properly dressed head to toe. you notice the bow tie pressed snuggly against his neck, not a wrinkle in his suit jacket or his dress shirt. his long hair was parted down the middle, brushed out out of his eye. you hated to admit it, but he looked breathtakingly beautiful.

“wow,” jungkook finally says, eyeing you in a way that made the blood pool in your cheeks.

“uh, yeah. let’s- let’s go,” you murmur, noticing the boys in the living room giggling at your guys’ interaction. you shove him in his chest. he grabs your hands and laughs, pulling you out the door.

“what did i miss?” jungkook asks. you roll your eyes, noticing the way jungkook held onto your hand, even after you got further and further away from your apartment, but not minding the warmth his hand provided against your cold one.

“trust me, nothing you want to hear, and nothing i’m willing to repeat,” you scoff.

jungkook was right. he had warned you beforehand that everyone at his job was stuck up and snobbish and would continuously point out that fact that you were no model. and like he had forewarned, all you heard all night was “you’re too pretty not to be a model” or “jungkook ended up with you?” you were appalled, sure, but you didn’t take their words to heart. you don’t know these people, and after tonight, you’re never going to see them again.

but jungkook flinched every time someone opened their mouth. he felt bad for you, but when he saw you delicately handle the situation, he knew you would be fine. still, it didn’t make him feel any less bad.

“we can leave whenever you want, you know?” jungkook whispers into your ear. you look up at him and smile.

“sounds like you’re using me as an excuse to ditch this snooze fest,” you giggle. jungkook smiles back down at you and laughs with you.

“busted,” he finally says.

“thank god, let’s ditch these runway wannabes and get some pizza. i’m starved,” you groan, looking away, missing the endearing glance he tosses your way. you both ditch the stuffy building, and headed to a late night pizza shop down the corner. you sigh in relief once you step into the restaurant, inhaling the smell of cheese and dough. you both decide to seat yourselves in a booth in the corner of the dining area. once you both place your orders, you settle into a comfortable silence.

“so, what caused you to conjure up this boyfriend lie?” jungkook asked after awhile.

“my mom thinks that i need to be in a relationship to be happy since i’m getting ready to enter the real world,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and leaning into your elbows that rested on the table.

“thats stupid,” jungkook scoffs, leaning into the booth. you were caught off guard by this, expecting jungkook to somewhat agree with your mother.

“you look surprised,” he says, gauging your reaction.

“i kind of am. not gonna lie, i was expecting you to agree with her,” you say, shrugging. the waiter brings your slices and leaves you two alone, settling back into the conversation.

“no way. if you want to be single, you should. i’m sure you’re single by choice anyways,” jungkook says, picking up his pizza and taking a huge bite of it.

“what do you mean?” you ask him, slightly confused behind the intentions of his sentence.

“i just mean that you’re insanely smart, funny and talented. and you’re extremely beautiful. if you wanted any guy, you could have him,” jungkook shrugs, munching on his pizza in peace. meanwhile, his statement sent you into a frenzy. who knew jeon jungkook thought so highly of you. you were under the impression that he dispised your entire being. he never really complimented you before, so his statement shocked you.

“never knew you thought so highly of me,” you said, smiling to yourself. you can’t really explain it and you don’t know why, but knowing how jungkook truly felt about you made you extremely happy.

“there’s a lot you don’t now about me,” he winks, causing you to roll your eyes and eat your pizza. and yet again, you missed the way jungkook smiled at you, enjoying your presence more than he would care to admit to.

“i don’t feel like i’m ready for this yet,” you murmur, feeling your hands start to shake as you stood outside the venue.

“you’re going to have to be, because we’re out of time,” jungkook smiles, taking hold of your hand and waltzing you two into the building. your mom had asked you to come early for a surprise so you decided to give her a surprise of your own.

“jungkook, maybe we should say you caught food poisoning and we had to leave,” you murmured as jungkook continued to drag you further and further into the building. jungkook smiled at your child-like nature and shook his head.

“we’ve come too far to give up now. let’s just rock this and get home,” he says, smiling at you. you felt a sudden urge of confidence that surges through you and gives you enough momentum to swing open the doors of the chapel hall. you were taken aback by the way the chairs are decorated with white pieces, hanging off the backs. you take notice of the pale yellow and white combo that you didn’t think would match so well. you felt happy for your mom and that she met someone who loved her so much that they were willing to do this for her to cherish the day.

“it’s beautiful,” you gape, admiring all the minute details your mother probably agonized over. jungkook admired the astonished look on your face as you practically ignored his presence to take in your surroundings. he always found you beautiful, but watching you be you while nobody was looking was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. jungkook had the biggest crush on you for as long as he could remember. and he refused to even fathom the thought of confessing to you when he knew how you felt. he knew you couldn’t stand his lifestyle, his choices that he’s made regrettably. but how else was he supposed to cope with the fact with the one person he’s allowed to steal his heart hates him.

“ah, there you are,” a voice says from behind you two. you both turn around and you see your mom, hair curlers and full glam.

“hi mama,” you smile, running up to her and giving her a big hug.

“hi sweet pea,” your mama coos, swaying you both back and forth. you pull back and look behind you to see jeon smiling at the interaction. this made your heart jump for a split second before you returned back to your surroundings.

“ma, this is my boyfriend, jeon jungkook,” you smile.

“oh my, you’re so handsome,” your mother gushes, rushing up to him and pulling him into a hug.

“thank you,” jungkook smiles, blushing slightly. you’ve never seen jeon blush before and to see him in a such a fragile state made you happy. and you couldn’t seem to figure out why. your mom finally released jeon from her clutches and she turned back to you.

“hun, i’ve got a surprise for you. follow me,” she says, grabbing yours and jeon’s hands dragging you to what you assumed was the dressing room. there were two dresses that were covered hanging off of a clothing rack. your mom shoves you guys onto a couch and rushes over to the dresses.

“one of these beauties will be yours to wear for the wedding because… hon, will you be my maid of honor?” your mother asks, eyes full of stars that made your heart swell. you felt the air leave your lungs and your heart begin to race. you remember watching your mom struggle with love all her life, her face in a frown always. you’ve never seen your mom so happy now, and you would do anything just to see her happy.

“ma, are you serious?” you ask, wanting to be sure this is what she really wanted.

“of course baby,” she smiles. you jump up and hug her tightly, muttering a yes into her hair. you both squeal with delight, jumping in place like teenage girls. suddenly, another pair of arms are wrapped around you, chest pressed against your back. you managed to look up and see jungkook bouncing with you and your mom.

“i wanted to join too,” jungkook says, his voice high pitched and filled with excitement which in response, made you giggle. you all finally stop bouncing and jungkook pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, catching you off guard. you felt your heart race and you swore his heartbeat matched yours. you brushed it off as it being the sudden activity you all had just endured.

“i’ll leave you two alone so you can try the dresses,” your mother says after she catches her breath, winking at you.

“you’re just gonna let your daughter get undressed in front of her boyfriend alone?” you ask incredulously.

“hon, he’s your boyfriend. i’m sure he’s seen more,” she giggles, exiting the room, leaving you with your jaw wide open.

“can you believe this?” you ask, shocked at your mothers bold statement.

“i’ve always wondered where you get your vulgarity from,” jungkook teases, his chest causing a vibration that you felt in your back, reminding you of your close, read as nonexistent, proximity. you push yourself away and whip around to face him, catching a glimpse of him trying to fight the smile that tried its best to take place on his delicate features.

“i’m not vulgar and you’re not watching me change. however, i do need an opinion on the dresses, so i guess you can stay,” you say, walking past him to try on the dresses. you snatch both of them of the rack and head into the bathroom, changing into dress number one.

at first you thought it was a joke, the frills and exotic colors making your eyes hurt from how loud it was. you tried it on anyway, and you couldn’t believe how ridiculous you looked. no way your mother was being serious when she picked this dress out. you unlocked the bathroom door and stopped your way to where jungkook was sitting on the couch, playing on his phone. you clear your throat to capture his attention and you nearly explode with the laughter with the way his eyes widen and face drops.

“what do you think?” you ask him, twirling around in the godforsaken dress you know your mother probably bought as a joke.

“i think the longer you look at it, the worse it gets,” jungkook says, a dumbfounded look on his face. you withhold your laughter and stare at him in distaste.

“yeah like your face,” you scoff, playing with the dress as if you actually admired it.

“are you gonna wear that?” he asks, secretly hoping you’d say no so he could release a breathe he didn’t know he was holding.

“well, i like it, don’t you?” you say, continuing to pretend like you actually were considering wearing this deafening dress.

“uh.. if you like it then… sure,” jungkook says, shifting in his seat. you admired the fact that he was trying to cater to your feelings and for some reason it made your heart race at the thought. you don’t know whats been going on with you lately but every kind gesture has made your heart race with excitement. you didn’t know when it happened, but you started looking at jungkook as more and it scared you. you couldn’t be with him. you knew that. jungkook had a reputation, and he was proud of it. he was proud of the amount of women he could pull in one night. hell, in one hour. he was used to the idea that feelings were a concept he wasn’t willing to understand or try out. and you had to accept that.

“i’m messing with you gukkie. my mom probably bought this as a gag, the real dress is still in its cover,” you say laughing at jungkooks face that was contorted into one of discomfort. you leave him to relish in your teasing as you retreat back to the bathroom to change into the actual dress. you could still hear jungkook laugh to himself as you unzipped the dress to change into the other one. little did you know, he was laughing to himself about the nickname you gave him. he’s never had a nickname he actually enjoyed before. he was still lost in the thought of you calling him gukkie forever when you finally exited the bathroom.

he always thought those scenes in cheesy rom-com teen films where the guy is staring at the girl like she’s the only one that matters was cliche. but he was wrong. so very wrong. watching you in the tight floor length pale yellow dress that just made you glow knocked all the air out of his lungs. you’re hair that was in a messy ponytail allowed some pieces of hair to frame your face as you continued to fumble with the dress.

“it’s a little longer than i thought, but it fits well, yeah?” you say, still looking down at the gown. you honestly felt ridiculous. you rarely dress up like this. you hid your body underneath baggy clothing so to have something so tightly pressed against your body made you severely insecure. the silence coming from jungkook made everything worse. you looked up to see jungkook leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs, hands holding his head up. there was a look in his eye you had never seen before and it made your stomach churn with excitement.

“that bad huh?” you joke, hoping to ease some of the tension that was building in the room. jungkook stands to his feet and approaches you, his body so close to yours you could feel the heat radiating off of his body.

“you look beautiful,” jungkook says, smiling down at you. you feel yourself blush and begin to fumble with your fingers, a nervous tic jungkook found absolutely adorable. jungkook was helplessly in love with you, this much he knew. from the way you laughed, to the way you rolled your eyes in his presence. he loved the way you gave yourself wholly to the ones you cared about, willing and able to do any and everything for the people you love. he loved the way you strived to work hard and how incredibly intelligent you were. and suddenly, his heart was full with all the love he was dying to give you, but know he never could. because you deserved much more than some player who was willing to sleep with anything with legs. but if he could at least pretend like the love between you two was real, even if for a short while, he’ll take it. as desperate as he was, he wanted to know what it felt like to have you love him back. even if he knew it was all pretend.

“jungkook, i can’t thank you enough for doing this. i know you would rather be in some girls bed trying to figure out a way to sneak out without her noticing, but i’m glad you’re here… with me,” you smile, hands gripping his bicep’s to keep him close. his cologne was hypnotizing, causing you to pull him closer and closer.

“there’s no place i would rather be,” jungkook said honestly, placing his hands onto your waist, allowing you to lean in.

“you don’t mean that,” you scoff, smiling and rolling your eyes, getting ready to pull yourself back from a dangerous territory. jungkook stops this from happening, wrapping his arm around you til your pressed flush against his body.

“you have no idea how bad i want you. all of you. mind, body and soul. but for right now, for the sake of our friendship and the momentum its growing, i will take you in whatever way you will allow me to have,” jungkooks says, forehead pressed against yours as he wills himself to hold back from pressing his lips against yours and taking you on the small couch in the dressing room. the words jungkook spoke so honestly made you shake from it’s intensity.

“jungkook i--”

“how’d the dress fit?” you mother asks, barging into the room. you and jungkook scramble apart from one another, him taking seat on the couch and you standing in front of him. you mother misses the way you two seemed highly unfocused and nervous as she coos over how adorable you look in the right dress.

“you need to finish getting your hair and makeup done, so scooch along so me and your beautiful boyfriend can get to know each other,” your mother says shoving you out of the room and directing you to where the other bridesmaids were getting their hair and makeup done. it wasn’t until you were sat in the chair that you realized.. your mother and jungkook were alone. oh boy.

you never felt so girly in your life. your hair was curled and put up in a half up half down situation, your makeup light and barely noticeable, but enough to tell you were wearing it. this wasn’t you, you didn’t like wearing makeup mainly because at the end of the day you forget to take it off and causes acne. you were working part time and went to school full time so you always left your hair in a ponytail or a bun. this look was new for you and you were kind of excited yet nervous for jungkook’s reaction.

you surprised yourself with the thought, not really caring about jungkook’s opinions before, but now it was all you could think of, and that scared you. you knew this was just a favor he was owing to you, but he was really going above and beyond and it warmed your heart. but you had to remind yourself that you were just friends, nothing more. hell, you were barely friends. had it not been for you incessant need to prove yourself to your mom, you two would’ve never even became cordial with one another.

you brush these thoughts aside, trying to manifest positive vibes for such a joyous occasion. you leave the dressing room, filled with chatter, in search of jungkook who may be suffering your mother’s constant conversation. you return back to the room you first were in when you arrived, catching your mother exiting the room.

“you didn’t scare him off, did you?” you tease, hugging your mom.

“honey, you look beautiful!,” your mom gushes, taking in the sight of her daughter. you smile and thank her, happy that she was happy.

“is he still in there?” you ask, nodding towards the door she came out of. she giggled and placed her hands on your shoulder.

“he is, and he is absolutely in love with you,” she smiles, causing you to furrow your eyebrows.

“what do you mean?” you ask, your heart starting to race.

“the way he talks about you, the way his eyes gleam with love with the mere thought of you. hunny, this man is undoubtedly in love with you,” she smiles. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, there was no way that jeon jungkook, the university playboy, is in love with you. you two barely conversed without an argument taking place. you doubt he knew anything about you, despite you two running in the same circles. sure, you knew a lot about him, just because your friends talked about him a lot and it was hard not to listen to sometimes.

“you’re crazy ma. you need to finish getting ready, the weddings going to start soon,” you laugh, trying to brush off the conversation.

“jungkook is in there getting ready, one of robert’s groomsmen caught food poisoning so he’s gonna walk down the aisle with your cousin, sam,” she said, rushing off to get ready, leaving you no room to reply. this wasn’t what he signed up for and you felt bad, so you went into the room to check on him. you caught him standing in front of the vanity, trying to finish off his tie. you had seen jungkook dressed up before, but there was something different about this time. you felt something more for him, and honestly, you always have. but his reputation…

“looking sharp,” you smile, looking up at him. his eyes meet yours in the mirror and he smiles, and this time you see it. the love your mother was talking about.

“you look beautiful, as usual,” he says, his charm peeking through. you scoff at his comment, walking up to him. you seemed small compared to him, and it was kind of an odd sight for you. you leaned your head against his shoulder, just staring at him staring at you through the mirror.

“something on your mind?” he asks, noticing how lost in thought you were. you focus in on him and the surroundings around you.

“my ma said something interesting earlier that’s got me thinking is all,” you say, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue much further. you didn’t want to make the air awkward or uncomfortable by trying to involve feelings, but a big part of you want to know how he feels from his own lips.

“what did she say?” he asked, his nerves jumping. he didn’t say anything wrong did he? he tried to be as cordial and respectful as possible, wanting your mother to like him. if things were to happen in the future, he didn’t want to be on bad terms with your mother.

“she said… she said that you love me?” you murmur, you heart caught in your throat now that the truth was out there and you can’t take it back. jungkook froze, caught off guard by your confession. he wanted to play it off like it wasn’t true, that your mother was delusional. but he knew the truth. and he knew that you also knew it too. he wanted you. he’s always wanted you. and now, he’s presented with the opportunity to have you in any way he wants and he can’t make the move to move forward.

“is it true?” you ask, trying to get a clear and concise answer. you’re not sure what’s going to happen, regardless of what his answer is, but the anxiety of not knowing is starting to kill you. you shouldn’t be forcing him to confess, but now that it was out there in the air, you couldn’t take it back. maybe you should tell him?

“if you’re not comfortable talking about it it’s o--”

“i love you,” he blurts, interrupting you. you pick your head up off of his shoulder and now you’re standing side by side, staring at him through the vanity mirror. you’re frozen, unsure of what to do now. you didn’t actually think he was going to say it. you thought your mother was pulling your leg. but she didn’t know that you two weren’t actually a couple and maybe that’s why you had hoped what she said was true.

“did you hear me?” he asks, voice laced with nerves. he couldn’t even begin to explain the amount of fear and vulnerability he was feeling at the moment. he meant it. he loved you. but why should you believe him. he was a playboy, and though you may never understand his reasons as to why he tried so hard to escape you by sleeping with other people, he wanted nothing more for you to believe him now.

“i did,” you whisper, afraid that the sound of your beating heart was louder than the words you spoke. you wanted him, god you wanted him, but you were scared that his words were from false bravado. a heat of the moment feeling that was fleeting.

“i know you might not believe me, and you have every right not to. but i love you with my entire being and.. it’s scary,” he chuckles, trying to explain his emotions to the only person he’s ever been vulnerable with.

“and like i told you earlier, for the sake of us finally gaining friendship, i will play it to your pace and whenever you’re ready, let me know. because i’ll be here,” he smiles. he turns to you, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss to your cheek before walking out of the room, leaving you confused as to what the hell just happened.

_______

an: part two? let me know :)

#jeonjungkook #jeonjeongguk #jungkook scenarios #jeongguk #jungkook #bts scenarios #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #slow burn #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts scenario #kpop scenarios #bangtan boys scenarios #kpop

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years ago

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❛ MY OTHER HALF ❜

✨ REQUEST: nose si voy tarde però bueno, espero que no. i would like to request (obviously if that is okay for you) a headcanon with angel x reader of the day of their wedding, like súper súper fluffy.

✨ MADE BY: @artofvamps

WORDS: about 2k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ Especial thanks to my lovely @angelreyesgirl for helping me with this wonderful masterpiece 🖤✨

❚❙ GIF credits: to the amazing @angels-reyes.

❚❙ ANGEL REYES MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

Never in your life you could think about having a most perfect wedding, Angel didn't care about it too much, being enough for him to see you happy.

The most magical place you have ever been. Especially when the sun is almost falling, around five pm.

From the window of his room, you can see the backyard perfectly decorated by Creeper and Riz. They didn't lie when they told you that would be amazing.

White and red roses everywhere, forming vines wrapping the wooden beams of the altar. Over the guests' chairs, there are six fairy lights, giving some more intimacy when the night has come; and a red carpet in the hallway, over the grass.

All your friends are there, mixed with the Mayans, waiting for you.

Your hands are trembling, alone in Taza's room, while you hear some voices and laughs outside. You can't help but take another look of yourself in the mirror.

The white dress fits your body perfectly, falling from your chest to the floor.

The girl at the shop called it ‘a-line wedding dress’. You don't care about the name, but about the fact that you look like the most beautiful girl. Your hair is tied on top of your head, behind a delicate silver tiara and small red crystals in it. Soft make-up, that Bishop's Old Lady did for you, just like your future husband likes.

Felipe is run of words when he comes to the room, but you can see what he thinks in his eyes, about to cry.

You know that he would like that Marisol could see you marrying her son. She would love to see the man Angel turned himself into since he met you three years ago.

“Hey, I’m Angel Reyes, and you know what? You’ll be my wife one day”.

He wasn’t wrong.

But he’s not going to lie. He has been the whole night having nightmares about you running away from him; about you deciding that you didn’t want a life with him.

Ezekiel and Coco have been awake too, comforting him whenever the doubts hit his mind.

Holding Felipe’s arm, he guides you downstairs to the outside, feeling your legs shaking and your heart about to explode. You have doubts too. You’re scared of him taking a step back at the last moment.

Although every bad feeling disappears from the two of you, as soon as you lay eyes with each other.

Angel is about to cry. So are you.

For you, for him, there's no one else around your orbit. Just the two of you. Him waiting at the wedding altar, watching you walk over the red carpet perfectly placed on the ground.

And, damn. You thought that Angel couldn't look better, until you have seen him wearing that suit.

A black suit, covering the immaculate white shirt under a silver waistcoat with mayan symbols tissues in it. His hair is perfectly brushed to the back of his head and his beard is giving you desires of kissing it.

Seriously, it should be illegal to look this good.

But the detail that steals all your attention is the fact that he isn't wearing his characteristics rings. That big silver cross in his right pinkie and a signet ring with the Virgin of Guadalupe in his ring finger.

Felipe kisses your cheek, to intertwine his son's hand with yours.

You can't help but use your free hand to clean the tears falling down his cheeks, making Angel chuckles softly. You are always taking care of him with the most minimal details, showing him how much you love him, before leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose.

“You changed me. You changed my life. You came with that smile, illuminating all the darkness around me. You've accepted me, advised me, shown me the road to happiness, put me first. You've never, ever, judged me. You've healed me, you've healed my wounds, my soul, my heart. You gave me the opportunity I always thought I would never have… You, mi reina, have loved me unconditionally without asking for anything back. I don't have enough words to express how I feel every morning when I wake up with you under my arms, when I kiss you, when I see you dancing in our kitchen, when you… look me with these beautiful eyes as if I was the fucking Big Bang happening in front of you”. Bringing your hands to his mouth, Angel kisses every knuckle of them. “I can't imagine a single day without you, without hearing your laugh, without reading your texts desiring me a good day when you wake up and I'm already gone. I don't wanna live a single day without hearing you singing in the shower, without riding my bike with you behind my back, without you smacking my ass and screaming ‘daaaamn, this is all mine’! You make me happy like no one could do. You make me feel important like no one could do. And I promise you, fuck… I swear it to God, that I'm gonna give you all of me. Every second of every minute, of every hour of every day till the end of my time. I don't want to live without you”.

Now, it's Angel who has to clean your tears, causing some laughs between the guests. And he can't help but wrap you with his arms in a tight, tight hug. The warmest and dearly hug he has ever given you.

“I didn't know what love was until I met you. I didn't know which was the meaning of life until I met you. Mi rey. My other half. It was you, and only you, since I saw you the first time sitting on your bike, smoking and with that face of grumpy idiot”. The guests laugh again, because they all know that pose. “And then you standed up and started to walk, and I thought ‘what the hell is wrong with his leg’”. More laughs. The loudest comes from your future husband. “But I would never change you for anyone else. We've been through bad days and good days. Shitty nights and funny nights. I would never change my life with you for anything else. No one has ever made me happy as you do every moment of my existence. You're the most awesome, incredible, loyal and lovely man I have ever met. You fight for me, you take care of me, you protect me. You make me smile whenever I feel insufficient, whenever I feel sad, whenever I feel that I don't belong anywhere. My home, my life, my happiness is wherever you are, Angel Reyes”.

Then, Taza as the priest looks at the two of you, before guiding his dark eyes towards you. “Would you want to take Angel Ignacio Reyes in hol—”. He can't finish, being interrupted by the man in question clicking his tongue. “Of fucking course she wants”. Gently grabbing your chin with a hand and placing the other on the back of your head, Angel kisses you by pecking your lips, making you laugh.

But Leti breaks the moment, coughing exaggeratedly. You asked her to be the flower girl and she has been practicing the last month, to don’t mess up her task. The most important one, actually.

For the next two hours, you can’t stop looking at your hand tangled with Angel’s, and the two fresh golden rings in your fingers. To other people they could be just two pieces of jewelry, but for you it’s the purest way to show him your love, your support, and your unconditional trust in him.

And for the next two hours, Angel can’t stop kissing your face all around. Going down with furtive kisses on your neck, your shoulder, your knuckles; not being able to take off from you his other arm around your waist, tightly closed to push you next to him.

Coco and Gilly are in charge of the speech, knowing that it’s going to be more funny than you thought, when they get up from their chairs drunk as fuck after too many shots of tequila. “Yo, mami… you really got the golden dick”. “Man!” Gilly punches him on the shoulder, making him strumble with his own feet and having to grab the other’s jacket to not fall. “I’m speaking the truth! Who was gonna think that he would get the girl to this point, ah?” “Not me”. “Me neither”. “You jealous, ah, motherfuckers?” Angel tosses them a napkin, causing the laugh of everyone around you. “Seriously, girl… How you do it to st—”.

“Enough?” Leti whispers to EZ, sitting by her side. The younger Reyes nods in silence, getting up, making Creeper and Riz a sign to take them off from the center of the yard; between curses in spanish and in some kind of invented language because of the alcohol.

“Hey, brother, I just want to tell you that by far this is the happiest moment of my life. You don’t deserve anything but all the love and the affection, and we all know that only her can give it to you”. You’re starting to think that EZ’s purpose is making Angel cry, because his eyes are being filled up with a bunch of tears now. “Our lives haven’t been easy, you know that… And you have put all the weight on your shoulders since ever, but I’m proud of you. Of who you are. Of calling you my brother. Mi sangre. I don’t desire you anything but happiness, Angel”.

“Yeah, and God bless your patience, sister”. Leti can’t help but add that remark, trying to not laugh when she finds you nodding energetically, before kissing your husband’s tears running down his cheek.

The big toast echoes all around the ranch, in the meantime that the prospects from Yuma and Stockton bring the cake. One of them. That’s the main, a three-story cake of black and white chocolate with your names drawn in red. Canche’s wife has made it for you. She’s an amazing pastry.

And you thought that Angel wouldn’t do it. HE PROMISED YOU ONE HUNDRED TIMES.

But that piece of shit were lying,

Stamping a piece of cake on your face, your husband quickly grabs your wrists to avoid you punch him, or do the same to him. As you sob between chuckles, keeping your eyes closed, Angel licks your lips with the tip of his tongue. “Mi dulce, mi favorito”.

“You promised me…”

“Ah, ah… I promised that I wouldn’t smash YOUR face IN the cake. And I didn't”.

After cleaning yourself and changing the heavy dress for another one that fits your silhouette to the perfection, you are ready to give your husband the last surprise of your wedding.

“Are you takin' me to a dark corner?” “Stop asking, Angel… You'll see”.

At the front yard, a baseball bat and a ball awaits. “What's that, baby?”

“Sh… I throw you the ball, and you hit it, okay?”

So there you are, watching Angel in position as in his old times, when he used to play in highschool.

You throw it.

He hits it.

And in just one second, the distance between you gets caught up by a pink powder, almost staining your clothes.

Angel is in shock. The bat falls from his hand. Eyes widened. Parted lips. His skin bristled, as his cheeks got wet again because of the tears.

“Felicidades, papi”.

He can't stop crying, embracing you with all his strength to his chest. Your husband can't believe anything that is happening today. All he has ever wanted is happening in a sight.

“The day we met, you told me that one day I would be your wife. And I told you that you looked like the father of my future children”.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ✨#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago

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Murder, He Wrote

Co-written with @southerngracela

Part 1

Summary: You’re sent by your asshole boss to do a review of a Celebrity Host Haunted Mansion, hosted by none-other than the arrogant, wild-eye browed actor Lucas Lee, but you’re worried you’ve missed the boat…that is, until at the last minute, an email arrives to say they can let you in on the last admission that night, which just happens to be Halloween… When you arrive, you’re actually kind of excited and intrigued…but it isn’t long until that excitement and intrigue give way to fear when you find yourself in a helpless situation.

Warnings: A creepy house, bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this is a collaboration between myself and the wonderful @southerngracela for @jtargaryen18 ‘s Haunted House 2020 challenge…and will be a mini-series, with an as of yet undefined number of chapters.

Once again READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Series Masterlist.

"Y/L/N," your dick editor poked his head into your office rather gruffly. "I'm gonna need that celebrity haunted mansion review on my desk by tomorrow morning. I want to run it ASAP.”

"I can't even get in, not even with a press pass, I've been trying for two weeks, Mick!” you looked at him, your mouth slightly open. You’d told him this countless times at morning briefings. You hadn't even heard back from the organizers about sneaking around the press pass issue and offering an exclusive on the joint, a small fact you kept Mick in the dark about.

"Make it happen." He said simply, before he turned and left.

You glared at his retreating form. What the fuck did he not understand about the situation? Mind you, what did he understand about anything? There was a reason everyone working for him called him Mick The Prick.

There was also a reason he was being extra prickish to you. Earlier in the spring time of the year you’d run an article on Ransom Drysdale- the stuck up, trust fund asshole who had literally gotten away with murder. He’d confessed to murdering his grandfather’s house keeper, attempting to murder his grandfather and then, in a violent showdown with 2 police officers and a private detective present, he’d attempted to murder his grandfather’s nurse, Marta. And he would have succeeded, except the knife he’d used had been a stage prop. It was like some fucked up Murder, She Wrote plot, and when you’d interviewed the real life Jessica Fletcher (in this case the rather charming PI named Benoit Blanc who’d been a character to say the least) it got even more confusing. Ransom had hired Blanc in some elaborate scheme to frame Marta for Harlan’s death to do her out of the inheritance via the Slayer Rule. That had back fired spectacularly when she had unwittingly switched back the vials of medication Drysdale had tampered with, meaning Harlan had truly committed suicide.

The article was supposed to be done showing his side of the story, a way for him to set the record straight, but the more you’d dug and spoken to people surrounding the case, the more you were absolutely convinced of his guilt, not least because he’d been acquitted on the murder and attempted murder charges on technical grounds due to his confession being, allegedly, obtained under duress and without a brief being present. The only thing they’d managed to pin on him was the arson which had burnt the Chief Medical Examiner’s office to the ground, and when his brief had successfully argued mitigating circumstances- he wasn’t of sound mind given the shock surrounding him being cut from his grandfather’s will- he’d basically ended up being released on license.

It was a joke, and that was basically what your article had said. You’d written a scathing attack on how money could basically render you untouchable by the law, highlighting the failures of the Criminal Justice System. At the time, Mick the Prick had been delighted with it, publishing it under your suggested head line “Murder, He Wrote”- ha, go figure, and copies had flown off the shelves, the article online going viral.

And then money had talked once more, and the Drysdale’s had threatened to sue for defamation. That in itself was a joke, as you knew full well his mother, Linda, was only doing it to salvage her own reputation, the same reason she’d worked so hard to find a lawyer to get him off the charges despite the fact she knew full well he was guilty as sin. Mick The Prick had attempted to throw you under the bus spectacularly when the board had come looking for blood, but as editor the buck stopped with him, and he was given a formal warning whilst you were forced to publish a retraction and offer a written apology much to your utter chagrin.

Which was why he was now making your life as hard as possible, and your Investigative Journalism skills, that you’d honed over the last decade; from high school paper, college tribune and now your current employer, over the last 10 years or so since graduation were now being focussed on covering stories about housewives who found Jesus’ face in a slice of toast, or in this case a fucking Celebrity Host Halloween Haunted House review. Whereas you had dominated the first 2 pages once upon a time, you were now lucky if you made it further up than page 11.

With a groan you banged your head on your desk. Why had you not listened to your dad and become a damned teacher instead of a journalist. Dealing with snotty nosed brats would be easier than this.

By the end of your day, you were burning what felt like the midnight oil however it wasn't very late at all. Dark had settled in but it wasn't late by time. Just before you were to log off and leave for the night, a TV dinner and pint of mint chip waiting for you in your freezer (and probably a job search too seeing as you would no doubt be fired tomorrow morning for failing on your deadline) your email pinged on your desktop. You frowned at it, wondering who could possibly be emailing you this late but then you recognized the sender.

It was the reply you'd been waiting on from the organizers from the Celebrity Host Haunted House. Clicking the email open, your eyes scanned the message. The organizer was setting you up with a private tour, TONIGHT. "9 pm," you finished reading aloud, relief flooding your entire body. It meant a long assed, sleepless night whilst you wrote your article, but it was better than the looming threat of unemployment. Plus, on the upside, as it was a charity gig the organizer had pulled out the big guns and the blurb on the email told you that it was to feature none other than Lucas Lee, a once-upon-a-time famous A-List Movie star, who was possibly just as arrogant as Hugh Ransom Drysdale, but you had to give it to him, in the films you’d seen he was actually damned good, and also pretty hot so…every cloud.

Glancing at your clock, you had just enough time to clock out and grab a quick bite at a drive thru on your way. The location was nearly an hour outside the city so you needed to get gone and fast. A quick reply telling the organizer you were on your way was sent out and you grabbed your coat, pulling it on over your sweater dress and were gone.

It took a good hour like you'd estimated and that was with stopping for a quick meal, to reach the address your GPS brought you to. It was creepy even at its first glance so you could only hope this payed off. With a quick swig of your watered down and flat fountain drink, you grabbed your bag and phone, exiting your vehicle and locking it shut. The cool night air bit at your exposed cheeks and you were glad you'd worn your coat and tights.

As you stood, gazing at the dilapidated house you shivered, as though, ice had replaced you spine. The walkway leading up to house was cracked, blood red roses grew wildly in thick batches by the gate and the moonlight cast a ghoulish glow on the house. Vines formed a twisted maze upon the side of the of the house's walls which showed the black decay of neglect, in between which splotches of original paint hinted at the house’s former prosperity. Cobwebs covered the corners of the doors, tiny black spiders threading towards their prey and you gave another shudder, as far as first impressions went, yeah, it was fitting for a Halloween Haunted House tour.

Pulling out your phone, noticing you had no reception (of course you wouldn’t, wasn’t that the cliché?) you took a few photos to use in the article and then gave a little squeak as the door creaked open on its own. Arching your eyebrow slightly, in a manner very much like the man you were here to meet, you strode forward and into the house. Immediately a musty, dank odour crept into your nose. The house was deadly silent except for the intermittent creaks and moans typically associated with a property that age. Black and brown mold dotted the ceiling of the tall hallway you stood in and the windows that framed the door on either side were covered with grime and dirt meaning the calm moonlight struggled to penetrate the darkness in thin thread rays, the main source of light being the open doorway. Sharp shadows roamed around the room and as your eyes adjusted to the dim light you noticed that there was a bright white envelope almost perched on the wooden table to the side of the hall. It was the newest thing in the room, so was obviously there for you.

You crossed over, the heels of your suede boots clicking loudly out in the silence of the hallway, and gently reached out for the envelope. A single word- Start- was written on the front in cursive, looping scrawl, very fitting for a spooky note. Another detail you committed to memory for your write up. You slid your finger into the crook of the envelope and slid it open. Inside was a small, white card, containing a message written in the same writing.

To ensure that you don’t become tomorrow’s big news, In this envelope you’ll find the first of 6 clues Of your super sleuth skills you should be proud, So make sure that you read your answers out loud. As one by one they lead to your ultimate demise. Which may or may not be a scary surprise…

Okay, now you were interested. This wasn’t just a walk through some scary assed, supposedly haunted house where Lucas Lee was no doubt set to jump out at you in some ridiculous disguise. This was a scavenger hunt, and your natural inquisitiveness was piqued. 'This could be fun', you thought as you reached for the next card that was in the envelope, reading the first clue.

I’m tall when I’m young, and I’m short when I’m old. I also give heat but not enough to prevent cold

You pondered for a second, heat was leading you to think of a fire, and they certainly grew shorter with time, well eventually when they burnt out…but then again, the longer they went the hotter they got, and they certainly prevented the cold. Scanning the hallway for anything that might fit the description, your eyes flicked up to the ceiling which held an elaborate, but tarnished candelabra style chandelier. And then it hit you. Tall when young, short when old.

“Candle…” you spoke “The answer is Candle…”

At that the door leading to the outside slammed shut behind you, and you gave an involuntary scream as the dominant source of light was sealed off. You spun round to look at it, and then your scream turned in to a laugh as you shook your head, for an Investigative Reporter you prided yourselves on steely nerves but so far that was twice this adventure had caught you off guard.

Turning back round, you then spotted that the door at the end of the hall was open, and you could clearly make out a Jack-o-Lantern looking at you, the candle inside flickering. Its face was creepy, really creepy. The nose and eyes were harsh triangles and the grotesque, twisted smile it sported was constructed of sharp, jagged teeth. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. You may have had no service, but the flashlight was working. Keeping the light held in front of you so you could watch your step on the cracked tiles of the hall, you made your way towards the lantern and found yourself in a large, run down kitchen. The lantern and your flash-light provided the only light in the room as the windows were all overshadowed by gnarly trees, their branches every so often scratching the glass as they swayed slightly in the wind outside. The only other sound to be heard was the drip, drip of the faucet in the porcelain Belfast sink. A closer look revealed the discoloration of the water, a brownish concoction as it swirled down the plug. There was an envelope on the side of the counter by the lantern and as you crossed towards it, a movement in your peripheral made you spin round only to see a lone mouse scuttling away across the dirty wooden floor. You placed your phone down, flash-light up causing it to light up an area of the Artex plaster ceiling, and picked up the envelope, tearing it open to find your next clue

Mr Jack-o-Lantern lights the night His eerie face is shining bright The ????? that shaped him lies around And holds your next clue safe and sound

“Oh come on…” you muttered, “That’ ones obvious. Knife, the answer is knife…” You picked up your phone and shone it around the various surfaces of the kitchen and your eyes honed in on a wooden knife block containing a solitary knife. You crossed the room towards it and as you closed in on it, you noticed that the handle of the knife was an ornate silver filigree. It was no ordinary kitchen knife and as you pulled it form the block you realised it was in fact a dagger, antique by the looks of things. The blade was curved slightly, reaching a sharp point, the silver tarnished. But the more you looked at it, the more you suddenly became horribly aware that it wasn’t merely a dullness of colour at all. It was blood.

“Dramatic…” you mumbled, and with a sigh you then realised there was no clue attached to it. Was this a distraction? A decoy? You were just about to stat ransacking drawers to find the actual knife you needed, when you glanced back at the block the dagger had been held in and noticed a flash of white peeking from underneath. Picking it up and moving it aside you smiled as you saw the same cursive writing, spelling out the word three. Seeing as you might as well play along, you used the dagger to slit the envelope open, tossing it back down on the counter as you read the next clue.

Many a Child on me they may play Any time be it night or day. My surface is hard, on it you can knock I have many keys, but can’t open a single lock…

“What has keys but doesn't open a lock?" You pondered aloud. Adjusting your cross-body strap, you sigh. Then the answer came to you, "a piano."

You fell silent, your mind racing to how the hell you were going to find a piano in this decrepit and yet enormous house. Then, your ears heard it. The subtle note from deep inside the house. It was a single key. But now that wasn't your concern, no, it wasn't the mice or the bugs or even the brown water. Your heart raced at the notion that someone was in fact in the house with you.

"Alright, Lee, you were always one for a flare of the dramatics, let's see what you've got."

Step by step you followed the note that chimed every few steps and you found yourself beginning to wonder if it was a recording or if someone were really playing it, timing their play with the sound of your boots over the rotting floor. You wound your way through the narrow hall, ancient wall paper peeling from its tack, mastick and plaster falling away to reveal studs in places. Finally, to your left you heard the key loud and clear. It was in that room. Steeling yourself for a possible encounter, you carefully pushed the sliding door away from its hinge. Your booted feet traipsed across the brittle carpet, dust swirling in the air in front of your face. Cobwebs adorned many of the surfaces and there were dirty white sheets covering the various pieces of furniture in the room. Apart from, that is, the large ornate grand piano that sat in the middle of the room. The stool in front of it suddenly jolted back and tilted toward you, making you scream at the gracious invitation by an as of yet invisible host.

“Get a grip Y/N” you mumbled to yourself. You were surprised to find just how much this place was starting to set your nerves on edge. You took a deep breath, the pounding of blood in your ears began to quiet and you took a look around the room. There was no one in there with you, you were alone. With slow, deliberate steps you moved towards the piano, your eyes sweeping over the mahogany surface, searching for an envelope with the next clue, but there was none to be found. The surface of the piano was thick with dust and grime, but as you scanned over it you suddenly stopped. On one of the white keys the dust was disturbed, as if it had been wiped away and you instantly realised that had to be the key that your so far elusive host must have been playing. You paused, biting at the nail on your thumb of you right hand, before you reached out with your left and tapped the key. The melodic note rang around the room, clearly, echoing in the silence and for some reason you were taken back to a part of the article you had been thinking about earlier that day, and how Detective Blanc had told you that he had ‘played a key’ during the various family interviews ‘to make my point without interruption’. It didn’t pass you by how fitting that actually was at that moment but you didn’t have much time to reflect on it, as you heard a creak and a grinding noise and you spun to your left to see a panel in the wall sliding open. It made you jump slightly, but this time you didn’t scream.

Not for the first time, you had to admire the effort Lucas was going to here. It was clear he had a flare for the dramatic, anyone could see that from his films and interviews but this was pretty damned good. It was making you wonder how he was doing it. Was he somewhere watching, pressing buttons to enact the various parts of his show? Instinctively you glanced up, looking for a camera or something you were being monitored by but you found no evidence of anything. “Well, in for a penny…” you muttered, crossing towards the small hatch. It was just wide enough for you to get your hand into, but you really didn’t want to. You grabbed your torch and shone it into the hole, finding nothing but the envelope so deciding it was safe you reached in and pulled it out.

Sometimes coloured, sometimes plain sometimes frosted, sometimes stain Be you short or thin, or fat or tall, this simple invention, lets you look right through a wall

You pondered for a moment, before the answer came to you. Fairly quickly you might add. Feeling a little smug you smiled and cleared your throat “Window. It’s a window.”

Usually, at that point, something happened to point your attention to the place you should be looking but this time, there was nothing. Instinctively you looked out of the one on the wall by the piano, but as you stared at nothing but the darkness outside you realised that was too obvious. Just then your ears picked up a sound you couldn’t quite figure out, but it was familiar all the same. And then it came to you, it was the familiar click and clack of a skateboard, the wheels gliding over the brittle old floor and you span round in the direction it was coming from to see a window you hadn’t noticed before, this one was an ornate, stained glass window which bore some kind of flower design that faced directly out into the hall.

He passed by slower than a flash but just enough to allow you to catch only a glimpse. You audibly gasped, your breath coming in a sharp intake of fright, because until then you had been alone on this chase. But it appeared you dramatic host had finally come out to play. He was merely a shadow, bulky in frame, tall and dressed all in black as he moved past but it was enough to puzzle you. You didn’t remember Lucas being that broad, or tall. With a frown you ran into the hall to catch him but saw nothing, and heard nothing, the only thing to indicate he had been there was a faint smell of the cedar and amber of what you assumed to be cologne.

You paced quickly down the hall in the direction the figure had gone but as you passed the stairwell the light flickered on, instantly attracting your attention. You’d only briefly noticed the ornate staircase before, but with the lack of light you certainly hadn’t noticed the writing on the wall, dripping in fresh paint. Swallowing, as you mouth suddenly felt dry with fear you stepped onto the first stair, and as soon as you did you were plunged into almost complete black. Letting out a shriek as, once again, he’d managed to get the drop on you, you shook your head and reached for your phone, taking another few steps up so you were level with the next clue which you read aloud.

“Tonight is not all fright and fear, a trick or treat is waiting near, the bedroom holds a sweet surprise, there solve the clue to claim your prize” you bit your lip and looked up at the top of the stairs, wondering when someone was going to jump out at you. Taking a deep breath, you made your way up, cringing at each creak your feet caused on the old warped wood, but it didn’t sway your determination to make it to your destination. Halfway up, a shadow flickered at the corner of your vision at the top on the landing and you froze, your mouth going dry once more. As you stood there, shining your light into the dark you caught the same scent from moments ago lingering in the air only this time it was stronger, far more powerful and you were able to denote even more of the notes within. Aalongside the amber and cedar your heightened senses picked up deep, earthy, sandalwood notes with a hint of citrus in the background. And it was familiar for reasons beyond the fact you’d smelt it down stairs. But, as you’d surmised earlier, it was a cologne. Probably one worn by a few people you knew.

Yes that was it.

“Jesus Christ Y/N what has gotten into you?” You rolled your eyes and continued up the stairs, clearly your ‘Celebrity Host’ was once more nearby. You cautiously got to the top of the stairs and glanced around. Nothing. So turning to your left you entered the first room you found on the hall. It was empty bar a creepy looking doll that had been separated from its head which lay about a foot to the right. As you looked around the room, the wind intensified outside, the rustling of the leaves and branches became louder, as did the creaking of the house…and then you gulped, as you realised it wasn’t just the house that was creaking. In the corner of the room, the little chair had begun to rock, slowly. Blowing out a breath and shaking your head, you looked around at the thin strips of wallpaper which showed little trucks. Crayon markings scrambled upon the wall where wallpaper used to stick but other than that there was nothing in there bar some pretty good theatrics. You had to hand it to Lee, the creepy feel was fantastic and you were going to give him one hell of a write up for this. You took a while longer to take in the detail, smiling to yourself before you closed the door and headed to the one over the hallway.

This room was a little lighter thanks to a lamp which stood on a nightstand. It wasn’t bright, by any means, but it was enough so that you could clearly see the bed in the middle of the room. And there, placed by the pillows was a thin box. On unsteady legs, you shuffled slowly towards the bed, the box before you making you quiver, your insides churning. A shaky hand tilted the lid open slowly, afraid something would pounce in a sneak attack. You shut your eyes ready to protect them in case a bat or bugs flew at you and when nothing happened, you opened them slowly and inspected the boxes contents. There was no envelope this time, just copy of a newspaper. Your newspaper. And you felt your blood run cold as you recognise the bold headline across the top. Murder, He Wrote: A twisted tale of Inheritance, Crime and Exoneration "Drysdale," you whispered in realization. But now, while you were well aware of what the article meant and who it was referring to, your brain shut down processing how on earth Lucas Lee and Ransom could possibly be connected. Your breathing deepened and you moved to pick up the article, but then the lid to the box caught your eye and you froze, for on the inside of the lid was another clue, only this one was a straight forward question which was spelled out using cut-out letters from the newspaper in question.

I’m light as a feather, yet the strongest person can’t hold me for five minutes. What am I?

You froze, for the answer was simple. Breath.

And that was it, you needed to get out. You started to back away from the bed, but before you had so much as made it 3 steps you collided with something hard. A forceful arm across your front pinned you to a firm and broad chest that engulfed your frame while a cloth with a distinct smell and cool moisture covered your airways.

"Surprise" The voice in your ear, calm, deep and known, was all you heard before nothing consumed you.

*****

When Y/N went limp in his arms, Ransom laid her across the bed only leaving the room to hurriedly cover his tracks, blowing out candles and removing any trace of her that had been in the house. His time as his grandfather's research assistant gave him far more experience than it should have. When he returned to the bedroom she was still out cold but light as a feather as he carried her downstairs and out the back door to the awaiting SUV, smug that his plan had gone so well.

But then, didn’t everything for him? He was Ransom Drysdale, and he was fucking untouchable.

He drove away from the scene of his new crime towards the city, driving through the dead of night, on the beltway, and continued twenty minutes outside downtown Boston before pulling into the garage of a large red cedar and quartzite home. He killed the engine and closed the garage door, pulling Y/N from the seat she was slumped in when it was clear to do so.

He couldn't be seen, he wouldn't be seen. He carried her inside the spacious home, his boots tapping heavily against the dark marble floor of the kitchen and finally the lush carpeted staircase that wound down into the basement.

This is where he laid her, in the basement, on a bed, but not just any bed, the one that would now become hers. He adjusted the lighting in the space, low enough not to disturb her, but bright enough to give the room a glow so he could finish what he'd set out to do. In the shock of the struggle in the bedroom, she’d dropped her phone and he’d made sure to smash it long before he left the haunted house, making sure there'd be no device to track her. He'd already disposed of her car while she was playing his little game, every loose end as far as he could see was tied up.

And now she was all his.

He brushed the hair away from Y/N’s face where it had fallen over her eyes. With gloved hands he manoeuvred her undone, black woollen coat off her body, leaving her in the bottle green turtle neck sweater dress and thick tights she was wearing before he tossed it over the chair in the corner of the room and then undid the zips on her brown suede knee high boots. He dropped them to the floor, kicking them towards the same corner with the equal carelessness he’d shown her coat. With a final meticulous movement he rearranged her on the bed, so he’d appear more comfortable and just before he left the room, he wrapped the cool, metallic cuff around the ankle. It locked in place with a clink and with a final glance at her still unconscious form, he turned and exited the room, the door latching shut and with the snap of the deadbolt he locked her in.

*****

Your head pounded, your nose burned and your mouth felt dry with the faintest taste of something foul lingering as you swallowed. The light was low but still your eyes ached. You tried to decipher exactly what the hell had happened to you while you got your bearings. You tried to sit up but your body felt heavy, the soft bed you now realized you were lying on was not your own. Your breathing rapidly increased as you started to move in fear but a clink caused a screech to escape your throat. You felt the weight of the cuff around your ankle and a full panic set it.

Your night flashed quickly through your glutamate and adrenaline flooded brain

You remembered getting the email from the Haunted Mansion supposedly hosted by Lucas Lee. You had arrived and were sent on what you thought was a fun and exhilarating maze littered with clues and riddles and then you remembered the last piece of the puzzle. You gasped as you remembered how his breath felt hot on your skin and how his voice registered in your mind.

"Drysdale," you repeated the last word you had spoken in a shaky, frightful voice. "No."

Rage and fear collided in your chest as you screamed out the only thing you could think of, "HELP!" A strangled sound left your chest followed by another cry out for help, "Please, someone, HELP!"

The door to your room, now coming into focus around you, flew open and there he stood, smug smirk, raging ocean blue eyes, hair neatly in place, dismantling frame clothed in a black sweater and dark denim, heavy footfalls sounding against the thick carpet under his feet.

"Nice to see someone's awake," Ransom deadpanned.

You stared for a brief moment and screamed for help again, louder, and louder, and louder until you felt your voice crack and strain, your cords burning as the sound shattered away.

"Are you done?" He cocked his head to the side and folded his arms across his chest as he stood firm and tall in front of the bed.

"What the hell are you doing? Why am I here?" It hurt to speak but you had to ask.

“Because I want you here, Sweetheart.”

"I...I'm not, don't call me that," you spat defiantly as he moved closer, taking you in, his predatory eyes moving over your body. This was it, you were going to die all because some trust fund prick was a hurt baby about an article (that you forcibly apologized for) revealing the sick and sadistic truth about him, his family, money and the justice system.

"Are you gonna kill me?” You watched him carefully as he crossed the room towards you, trying to keep your voice calm so as not to betray the utter fear that was coursing through your veins at the fact you were trapped, fuck knows where, shackled to a bed with a murderer being your captor. “That's what this is about, right? My apology wasn't enough?"

"Your apology was forced bullshit.” He responded, his voice carried a hint of amusement, because of course, this was all a game to him. “You smeared my name, dragged my reputation though the mud and you expected an apology like that, half assed and full of more crap than your original hatchet piece, to be enough?" He was standing damn near over you now, a hand moving up your leg that was held by the cuff, your body frozen in a confused silent argument of fight or flight.

"You... Killed... Him." You grit out through clenched teeth, and his hand was on your throat before you finished your breath, squeezing just enough to make a point.

"No. I. Didn't." He lied and you had to hand it to him, a lesser person might have bought the garbage he was talking, because he was good at it. Lying must have been enough of a second nature for him that he actually believed everything he said himself. But then again, it wasn't actually a lie was it? Sure, he'd planned on indirectly killing Harlan and that plan had backfired and Harlan had actually slit his own throat. So at most he was indirectly responsible for his death, but none of that had stuck with the prosecution and so now here he was, a free man.

A struggled chuckle came from your tightened throat, "Jesus Christ, you actually believe your own bull shit don't you?"

"You've got a fucking mouth on you," he breathed as his body loomed ominously over the bed and your frame, tiny in comparison to his.

You swallowed, feeling the hard lump strain to pass his grip, "Not really, you just don't like hearing the truth."

His eyes bored into yours and you struggled for breath as his hand constricted around your neck whilst he squeezed a little harder "Oh shut up Y/N."

"Or what, Hugh?" You croaked.

A little flash of anger tore through his ocean blue eyes like lightning in a storm. His eyes bored into yours as you fought to swallow.

"Or I'll shut you up myself."

"Try me, you son of a...." You didn't expect his lips to cover yours but they did. Unexpectedly warm and soft, despite the painfully harsh kiss. You managed to pull away but his hand still gripped at your throat and you felt the fear constricting your chest. But you were damned if you were going to show him a shred of weakness.

“You’re an asshole, Hugh…” It was all you had, the only thing you could use in your arsenal given your situation. You still had your voice. And you’d noticed that for whatever reason he appeared to hate that name.

“Don’t... fucking call me that!” his voice rose to a loud, angry instruction, apoplectic rage seeping from him to you, and it was almost stifling.

“Or what? You'll kill me?” your voice rose in both volume and pitch as your desperation began to show. “We both know you're gonna do that once you've fulfilled whatever sick, twisted little fantasy this is. What are you waiting for, Hugh? Huh?”

Ransom scoffed, "Kill you, no, see I'm gonna teach you a lesson. One about how money and status get you anything you want.”

You frowned, as you looked into his icy blue eyes, utterly confused “Anything you want? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You'll see Princess” was the sole explanation you got as he knelt between your legs.

You stayed stock still as large and surprisingly gentle hands trailed your curves up the outside of your thighs to your hips. As he reached the hem of your sweater dress he paused as you wrapped your hands around his wrists.

"Don't" you squeezed, attempting to stop his wrists and close your legs.

“This will be much easier if you just play-along, sweetheart” he muttered as he pressed his lips to your neck. You let go of his wrists and raised your hands, laying them over the wool of his cable knit, palms flat against the plain of muscle as you attempted to push him off.

“I said no.” you tried to keep your voice stern, despite the fact you were fighting back the fear and sadness at the realization of his task was now at hand.

His large hands smoothed over your dress, cupping your breasts and he let out a moan as you bit back the bile in your throat that was threatening to spill from your mouth. You pushed harder trying to force him off of you but it was of no use, his broad frame caged you in, engulfing you under him.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.” He ground out, his lips inches from your ear as he nipped at your skin. He was impressively strong and balanced, his weight even through his body as he kept his knees between your legs, a hand against your breast and the other stroking your sides and up your thigh. All the while, his lips sucked at your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point as you turned your head away, tears filling your eyes

"Please, stop," you managed. "Hugh, stop!"

“I told you not to call me that.” He growled against your skin and pulled back, his eyes blazing as they locked on to yours. In sheer desperation, you managed to wrench a free hand from between you and gave him a slap, nails biting at his skin. Instantly you knew you’d pissed him off. His nostrils flared, his jaw set and as his eyes filled with fire and rage.

And you knew then, you were in for it.

“Bitch…” he snarled as he raised his left hand to his face where you had struck him, and then both his hands grabbed yours, yanking your arms up, pinning them above your head. You bucked upwards, violently in an attempt to shake him off, but it was futile. He was far too strong. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and despite yourself you let out a small whimper of fear.

In one hand he had the ability to cuff both of your wrists and he did so while his other grabbed at your dress, shoving it further up your body, fingers curling over the waist of your tights and panties, a handful of the material fisted in his palm. They wouldn't slide down quick enough and you felt your body lift away from the mattress slightly as he ripped away the material, the snap burning your skin. You fought, boy did you fight. You had no control of your hands or arms as he had them easily pinned, but your legs and the rest of your body gave as good as they could. You thrashed from side to side all the time screaming your objections. You drew your knees up to your chest in an attempt to buck him off. You screamed protests, threw every insult you had at him, but it was no use. He was simply too strong.

He didn't even bother with his belt or button, he just unzipped the flies on his jeans, pulled his solid cock free and slid in. You were wetter than you expected to be, but it still burned with friction and ached from the thick stretch against your tight walls. It hurt, definitely hurt.

"You know you want this. I know you want this." He rasped as he pulled out before thrusting back in, his face twisted in a look that was halfway between being smug and satisfied. Just looking at him made you feel sick but for some reason you were unable to look away as he continued his slow assault, before he picked up the pace slightly, his groans of satisfaction filling the room as he bottomed out, balls deep and it was at that point you closed your eyes and tried to block out what he was doing to you. But try as you might to remain mentally detached from the situation, your body was anything but. And the more he moved in and out of you, the more you could feel your physical reactions. You were powerless to stop them and the heat between your legs and in between your belly was spiking with each thrust into you.

It felt good. And you knew it shouldn’t. So you fought it, but eventually, you couldn't fight it anymore, not with the way his thick cock filled you, velvety smooth skin sliding in and out of your defiant core. You didn't want to cum, but your body told your brain it was going to and Ransom nearly puffed his chest as he fucked you into your body's submission.

"You're gonna fucking cum, aren't you Princess? I can feel it," he ground out, chasing his own release. You remained silent, breathing heavily as your insides coiled and tightened. "Fucking tight ass pussy," he gritted. You refused to cry out, not wanting to give him anything you were able not to, and it took everything you had to remain silent. In desperation, to quell the cry that was rising from your throat, you bit your tongue, tasting the coppery taste of blood in your mouth as you came hard around his cock.

“Fuck, yeah…see…” Ransom’s hips began to move faster, and then with a sudden movement he pulled out of you, making you wince involuntarily at the sting. He shot his load all over your thighs, a growl bubbling from his throat, the warmth of his release trickling down your leg made you feel even more dirty than you already did.

“Not so fucking smart are we now, huh, miss Investigative Reporter…” his snap was snide, and childish, but you knew he couldn’t help himself. Your head remained defiantly in its position on the pillow, turned to the right, eyes focussed on a spot on the wall. “Look at me, bitch.”

When you didn’t do as he asked, he grabbed your chin bruisingly, making you wince as he pulled your face round so he could see you. You knew he would be able to see the tears on your face, and you hated that. Hated that he would see how much he’d hurt you, scared you even,

His hand let go of your face and you stared at him, swallowing, trying to gather your voice in your painfully dry throat.

"That's all you got? You're a fucking child, Drysdale. It's why you’re doing this." You said, your voice trembling and croaking from the fear and exertion of what he had just put you through and you shook your head. “You’re a fucking man child with mommy and daddy issues. A spoilt, little whiney brat who can’t bear to be told no.”

That struck a nerve, you could tell, as his jaw clenched tight and his fists clenched around the sheets by your side to the point they were shaking. He grabbed your chin once more with his right hand and pinned your face still, forcing your eyes to look back at his

“You'll be begging me to accept your apology.” He snarled, his face contorted in rage “You'll see who the whiney child is soon enough. I promise Princess, it's not me”

As you looked at him, you felt your anger starting to simmer. This fucking ass hole had just raped you, and he had the gall to be saying you were going to tell him that you were sorry. No chance in hell. You knew you were screwed, literally and figuratively. Whilst he had you captive behind a bolted door, shackled to a bed you had nowhere to go, he knew that you knew that too and you could see it in his face as a smug smirk flickered on his lips. Well fuck this, if you were going down it was with a fight. With a sudden movement, that caught him off guard you moved your head slightly as much as you could in his painful grip, and spat right in his face.

Ransom blinked, his anger morphing to shock, then back to fury once more as he released your face and with a flash of his hand he back handed you straight across the face. The blow to your right cheek snapped your head to the left, sucking the breath from your lungs and leaving you a little dazed.

“Fuck you.” He sneered as he rose to his feet, wiping his face. Silently he rearranged his pants, tucking his now soft cock back inside them, and swept from the room, locking the door behind him.

***** Ransom stormed up the steps to the kitchen of the house, slamming the top door behind him and bolting that one shut too. He was furious that little bitch had scratched him and no doubt marked his face. He strode over the marble tiles of the room and walked into the large hallway and across into the den. He made his way straight to the bar, poured himself a healthy measure of good scotch, slopping a little on the dark wooden counter, before he glanced up at the large mirrored surface of the bar behind the shelves.

He could make out 3 vivid red lines down his left cheek where she’d dug her nails into his flesh and his jaw clenched. His hair was out of place, his cheeks flushed and his normally cold eyes were blazing with anger. But as he stood there staring at his dishevelled reflection, he knew it wasn’t the fact she’d scratched or spat at him that was pissing him off so much. It was the fact she had persistently voiced a name he despised, one that was used to control those lower than him in his every-day life. One reserved for The Help, for outsiders. It reminded him of his family, of his mother and father, the two people in his life who should have loved him unconditionally but instead had him out of ‘duty’ and had taken every opportunity to pass him off into the care of others they could. It reminded him of Walt persistently telling him he was a no-one, that he would amount to nothing over than a trust-fund baby.

It reminded him of Harlan. The one person in that entire fucked up patriarchy that had shown him an ounce of care. But who had screwed him over in the end. The anger that had been simmering inside him boiled over, the blood pumped into his ear and with an angry yell and an almost involuntary action Ransom hurled the glass tumbler straight at the wall where it smashed against the tasteful silver and white wallpaper, the 25 year old single malt trickling down the wall…just like the tears and trickled down Y/N’s cheeks as he’d forced her to look at him whilst he took what was his.

As she’d glared up at him he’d noticed a fierceness in her eyes that he was surprised to find had unnerved him a little, because she clearly wasn’t going to be as easy to break as he thought.

“Fuck it.” He mumbled to himself, grabbing the bottle from the bar before he turned and left the room, taking a large swig as he went, the burn in his throat going someway to settling his nerves.

This would work out, because he was Ransom fucking Drysdale, a man who always got what he wanted in the end, and she was going to be no exception.

**** WIYPT Tag List:

Everything

@momobaby227 @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @nerdofthefandoms @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @what-just-happened-bro @jennmurawski13 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @jtargaryen18 @redhairedfeistynerd @charmed-asylum @saiyanprincessswanie @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @jhayes6984 @anika-ann @icanfeelastormbrewing @gigglegirl77 @princess-evans-addict @mes-2016 @theladybiers @void-hoechlin

Ransom Drysdale

@patzammit @icandothisallday @capsiclewinter @this-is-serenaa @alexakeyloveloki @perplexed3001 @twittytelly @kelbabyblue @maan24

If your name appears above but the tag isn’t live please let me know.

#halloween challenge #j's haunted house 2020 #jshauntedhouse2020 #dark ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #murder he wrote #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fanfiction #knives out #knives out fanfic

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mehphoobia · 4 years ago

Text

You are beautiful

pairing - Tom Holland (actor) x Reader (college girl)

summary - Y/n is visiting her parents for the first time to Rio, whom she doesn’t know properly because they left her with her aunt when she was young. She is insecure about meeting her parents but she finds comfort in a stranger.

MASTERLIST

word count- 2.9k or around 3k

warnings - mentions of insecurity and self doubt, no swearing(cause its like my first post so gotta stay ‘pure’)

“Get up Y/N and Claudia…its 8 am already. We are going to be late.” a faint alarm could be heard from the kitchen, two rooms away from your room.

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Your parents had been looking forward this vacation for months. With your father working in Rio for the past 7 years and your mother being a full time nurse at a nearby hospital in Rio where your parents lived, you never got a chance to feel how it felt to be with your parents. So naturally with no one to your care, you grew up with your Aunt Cass and your cousin Claudia, around whom your entire world revolved for the past 20 years.

________________________________________________________________

Grumpy, filled with laziness up to the brim Claudia dragged herself to your bed and tortured you to get up. “Just two more minutes. I swear”, you begged as if she was listening. Then came the final blow with a splash of water on your face and then well….its self-explanatory. You both got up, finished through the verbal fight which left Aunt Cass chuckling in the kitchen.

“Aren’t you a tad bit excited to go to Rio, it’s been years since your parents last spent time with you.” Asked Claudia looking at you expression-less face in the mirror while brushing your teeth. “I don’t know Cloud, it’s just that I don’t know how I should feel about it. I am nervous and scared and tired just thinking about how awkward it can get.”

________________________________________________________________

Your parents had last seen you on your 16th birthday, when they showed up at your house. The 16th year where you are neither an adult nor a child, of all those years they could have shown up, it was that year. Your mother had gifted you a manicure set and your father had bought you a hair kit and you absolutely had no idea what to do with it. Little did they know that you were more interested in trekking and photography rather than painting your nails and dyeing your hair? Where other girls chose tight fitting dresses and expensive heels you chose the comfort of sweatshirts: pajamas or jeans and sneakers.

_______________________________________________________________

“You will be fine, it’s YOU after all. If I can tolerate you enough to share my room with you then trust me, anyone can put up with you” said Claudia boasting her patience and handing a comb from her dresser. “Why don’t you curse or compliment me one at a time” you snapped annoyingly. But you were grateful for supportive arms around you which calmed you down.

After getting ready, you greeted Aunt Cass with a smile on your face and a stretched good morning as you helped yourself with some toast and orange juice. “Eat well, it’s a long flight after all” said Aunt Cass followed by a “Yes ma’am.”

“Keep your phone charged at all times. Keep calling me after every two hours and did you pack enough clothes to last you a month. I don’t want to hear your mother complaining later about it. Should I pack some extra snacks for you, you will surely not take care for meals and if you skip any your meals throughout the day, I swear you have had it then.” It never ceased to amaze you how multitasking Aunt Cass could be. She is strict, tough and a woman of her words. There was not a single day when you and Claudia had not done your college assignments or homework with Aunt Cass being at home. But at the same time she would sit with you past midnight when both of you cousins stayed awake for you midterms. Maybe that’s why you never missed your parents because you never had a void in your life, Claudia and Aunt Cass had filled it lovingly.

That being said, before you knew it all three of you were in the car and already off for the airport. The entire ride was filled with constant chattering as to how famous and beautiful Rio is and as how will not be able to walk down a street without bumping into a celebrity. However you were lost in your thoughts about living with your parents for a month, about whom you knew nothing and neither did they about you.

After reaching the Leipzig Airport, you waved them goodbye, leaving the loving and proud embrace of Aunt Cass and a cute envious look on Claudia’s face you were all set for Rio.

During the flight:

It was a 15hr flight, with the overthinking and hyperactive person you were there was no possible way you could have had a simple excited flight journey, but there is no harm in wishing one for right? Or so you thought.

When you were boarding the plane you noticed an unusual number of bodyguards outside, literally engulfing the poor person standing in middle. What annoyed you the most was the people who were cheering, because at some point of time it wasn’t cheering anymore, it was a mob attack. After boarding, what greeted you were the over excited air-hostesses which was obviously because ‘the person’ as you painfully learnt through the mob attack. But all you could care at that moment was your seat being a window seat or not, and luckily it was. After putting your hand luggage in the upper compartment (you had three suitcases and one hand luggage) you finally asked a fellow passenger dressed in black hoodie with a mask on his face and skinny jeans as to what exactly was the commotion about and to brief you about the situation. The answer surprised you- it was none other than Tom Holland.

Your mouth was literally in the O shape and eyes wide open. It was the Tom Holland. It was your favorite actor travelling in the same flight with you. That explained the mob attack. The only person that came to you upper floor was your Claudia.

Y/N: TOM HOLLAND is in the flight right now!!!!!! Tom freaking Holland.

Claudia: wwwwhhhhaaatttt!!!???????, damn I knew I should have gone with you. How could you do this to me? Why?

Y/N: I am sorry ok I didn’t know or wait maybe I did. His visit to Leipzig was mentioned in his itinary on his twitter account how could we miss that? We just got lucky man and also I was squashed in the mob attack at the airport.

Claudia: Oh! You mean you got lucky dipshit!? Please tell me you got a picture!

Y/N: no I couldn’t, I hardly knew about him being on the plane I asked someone and I have been freaking out since.

*announcement for switching off electrical devices.*

Y/N: I have to switch off my phone for a while, the flight’s gonna take off.

Claudia: okay, I knew I should have come with you. Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!text me soon..love you

Y/N: yeah you should have, I miss you. Love you too.

“Are you a fan too?” asked your neighbor. You look at him with suspicious eyes was he eying your texts? Because if he was, that’s not healthy and it creeped you out. Even though, “well yes, me and my sister.” You said and hoped the conversation will die out there. He took the answer and you could imagine a small smirk curling upon his face by the wrinkling of his eyes which was adorable. By his physique and posture he looked no older than early twenties. “What about you, are you fan?” you asked, unknowingly and regretted it immediately. “He doesn’t bugger me, so you could say so. How long have you been a fan?” ,“My aunt happened to be watching ‘The Impossible’, when we were younger and we have been crazy about him since. My sister liked him like crazy as to how cute he was but I liked his acting in the movie but ended up liking him too.”

“Very interesting..” something about him was attracting you, maybe his aura, the charming vibes, you didn’t know, but you were just attracted. But something pinned you, his accent, he had a British accent. Unknowingly, when your eyes met, your heart skipped a beat. It’s him. He was sitting right here. He realized your surprised expression and said, ”You can take a picture now” he chuckled and looking directly at you. Your brain on the other hand was still processing the vital information and the very awesome physique with veiny and beautiful hands and captivating eyes. How could you miss his eyes, those beautiful passion filled dark brown eyes.

“uh..um..h hi, I mean hello nice to meet you, I am Y/N”, ”Tom Holland” he said extending a hand not taking his eyes off of you. It amazed you really, how could he despite being an actor maintain such a down to earth personality. The way he talks, listens to you, waits for your reply and him being in the economy class instead of comfortably sitting in the first class seating arrangements. Wait!?Why was he here?. As if he read your mind and a sudden change in your expression from being flustered to confused. “Too many people, I needed to get out of there and breathe by myself for once. No cameras, no media, no stylists….jus… just plain old me. By the way, my manager is my imposter”, he said with a smirk on his face.

“Oh sure, I can understand that, it can get tiring sometimes. The attention being forced on you that you were never used to it. My parents too, in that way, been out of my life since the very year I turned 1 and suddenly they want meet me and want me to stay with them for a month in Rio. I didn’t want to but my aunt convinced me and I couldn’t say no to her. ”, ”You stayed with your aunt your entire life? Didn’t you miss your parents?” his passionate eyes suddenly changed into concern and pity, “yeah, but she means a lot to me, she was there for all my dance ceremonies, each and every one of my birthday’s , my graduation, she means the world to me so does my sister, she is like my pillar, my support , an annoying one at that.” You said smiling on you lap, and you could feel his gaze softening upon yours. ”my parents, uhh…you can never miss something you never had.” You looked at him again, but this time you could feel and see his gaze on you, watching you and never leaving your eyes.

Both you were so lost in each other that you didn’t realize when the flight had taken off and the snacks table breaking your moment. “Oh it’s been so long already since the plane took off, I didn’t realize we even missed the safety instructions”, you both chuckled at that. “Oh man!, you are really beautiful, really” he said running his hand down his locks and realizing that his tone was a bit too loud, and he meant to keep the compliment to himself. “Sorry?” you asked, despite you pretty much heard it when he said it, you wanted to hear it again.

“uhh..i m..mean your teeth are beautiful.” He realized what he said and his expression was like ‘did I really just say that?’. “I mean your smile is beautiful, Not your teeth..oh wait..I mean your teeth are beautiful too but your smi…” you couldn’t hold you laugh anymore looking at him and his cute ‘war’ with himself. “Thank you, I guess, a lot of people say that about me after I got my braces removed.”

“Oh you had braces? Since when?” “around when I was 15, like every girl wanted to look pretty and wanted boys around her ,so me and my sister had braces for the sake of it, not that I cared about me getting a boyfriend, just for fun”. He seemed to have got stuck on one word, “so you got one?”…”got what?” , “a boyfriend I mean?”. His expression changed and yet again you could feel blood rushing to your cheeks, “I always wanted a crazy guy, who could have something similar to my interests, ‘cause I am not like every other girl in the town, I am into trekking and photography and outdoor activities, not just a girl who likes shopping and who always has to be around people so, my specifications are a bit particular, so I have never had a boyfriend.”

“So, no boyfriend, right?” he asked as if that being the only part he was interested in, or who knows may be he actually was.

After a few hours, you realized you had a lot of things in common and the internet was all wrong about his interests and all. It was like meeting a complete different person, a person whom you have known for the longest time as if you have always been together. You were attracted to him and so was he to you, and you could tell that.

“So what are you doing in Germany? Did you have a shoot here?” you didn’t mind asking because he already had mentioned a lot of stuff that he was not supposed to and also his eyes lit up when he was excited to tell you about some stuff anything at all. “uh..yeah we had to film a segment in Berlin and then we decided to take a break, so I around different places and now we are heading towards the Carnival.” “oh Carnival huh? My aunt says its pretty lively. That was like the main reason why I agreed to go Rio. ”

“so don’t mind me asking, but are you going to be awkward around your parents? Like I know you are not very close to them..” he asked you sincerely concerned with his hands slightly brushing off of yours on the handle of the seat. It’s like he wanted to hold your hand because he knew the weight of his question but he felt like you would disintegerate if he did so. You could feel the same pit around your stomach filled with nervousness that you had forgotten about a for couple hours. “I don’t know, it’s complicated, I don’t know anything about them and also they might have certain expectations about me and what do I do if I do not live up to it. I know we haven’t had a very comfortable story build around us but somehow I don’t wanna disappoint them from my side because they don’t know anything about me like the birthday incident I mentioned about. But I simply don’t want to disappoint because I don’t want my mother, who was never there for me, to question my aunt, who has always been there for me” It’s like you pour the entire timeline of your life in front of Tom and you were scared if he would drift away. “I understand Y/N, but your parents were the ones who planned this trip right?” “yeah they were the ones.” “so that’s it, you know when I have too much on my plate, my manager asks me to take a break and let everything go for sometime. All my meetings and appointments are cancelled because I will ruin them anyway, so there is no point of it. Your situation is kind of similar too, you have had a lot in your life with you parents not being there and now you simply just have to take a break and forget everything for a while because that’s what your aunt wants to you to do.” His hand finally rested upon yours and none of you flinched. It’s as if it’s meant to be.

That being said, you have already arrived in Rio and a beautiful ocean greeted you with open arms and you accepted it with a fresh mind. Tom’s hand still resting over yours and his fingers brushing the upper part of your hand and you look at each other embracing each other’s warmth with your eyes. That’s when you realized that you have fallen for him, not Tom Holland but just him, just Tom.

After the plane landed he was still holding on to you, scared to let go. He was scared to let you go because he cared about you and some fact had gotten him attracted towards you and he was scared to show you his vulnerable side. On the other hand you were scared to let go because you might never see him again. As if he sensed it again, what you were thinking, “I will see you again for sure. Don’t worry.” With a tight squeeze on his hand you let go and say “thank you, I will wait for you.”

“me too.”

You didn’t see him again after departing the flight, he would steal glances out of every opportunity to see you ,lost between the flashes of cameras and cheering, till the last second. The last time you saw him was to murmur something to his manager pointing towards you and that was it, the escalator distanced him from you. But you would still wait..

Outside the gate you could see your parents waiting for you, with Tom’s words in your mind you greeted them with a smile and everything seemed normal, as if they were always with you.

Two weeks later, still no message from Tom.

Claudia bombarded you with messages, when you told her about the entire duration of the flight. You were kind of annoyed with messages cause they were literally somewhere is hundreds. So you decided to ignore her for sometime.

*Ting* some part of you wanted to check that message but the other part of you wanted to go eat pizza because you were really tired from messaging and explaining everything to Claudia over texts. But then you were like *screw it* and you checked the message and…

*unknown number*: I said you were really beautiful Y/N….

A/n- uh..first of all thank you for reading this, cause it like my first post and my first fanfiction so i was a bit skeptical about posting this but fuck it, here it is guys it took me around four hours to complete this and its worth it.

also if you wanna be tagged in this just let me know!!! *uwu face*

lemme know if you want a part 2 of this, because I will gladly include it with improvement of course, love you ppl...

#tomholland #tom holland #tomholland fanfiction #tomhollandxreader #tom holland x reader #actor!tomholland #actorxreader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tomhollandfluff #tomxreader #actor tom holland #actortom #marvel

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ariwritesstuff · 4 years ago

Text

power duo

CORPSE x fem!reader

this is my first fic, please go easy on me!

summary: you and corpse are playing among us together, along with rae, toast, poki, sean, dave, sykkuno, lily, and felix. you and corpse got impostor together! :)

warning: none!

pronouns: she/her

word count: 1,107

A/N: i’m sorry if it bothers anyone that their avatar color is pink, i doubt it will but just in case.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

A black colored bean wearing a suit and tie, accompanied by horns on its head, stood next to a pink bean with red words that read “Impostor” at the top of the screen.

You and Corpse had been keeping your relationship secret for a while, due to the fear of public backlash or embarrassment.

You heard a groan from the other room and chuckled a bit. “Time to kill.”

You went into admin and watched Felix and Sykkuno do card swipe, then walked out. About thirty seconds later, you ran into Sykkuno in upper engine and coldly murdered him. You then sabotaged lights, and camped in electrical. Poki was the first one to come in, so you killed her and then vented to medbay.

As you were just about to exit medbay, a thick, red line with a brown dead body over it flashed across your screen, reading “BODY REPORTED.” You look and so far there had been 4 people dead.

The player list displayed 10 people and different colored beans. 6 people were alive, and only in white text there were 4 people. On the left side, there was a dark green avatar accompanied by a name, “Spedicey,” written in white text. Under that were 3 different people, a red avatar named “Valkyrae” in white, a black avatar named “CORPSE” in red, and then two grayed out names and avatars. Among the grayed out names and avatars were a light green one titled “Sykkuno,” and a cyan avatar named “Toast.” On the right side, at the top there was a purple avatar titled “Lily” in white text, under that would be a pink avatar titled “[Y/N]” in vibrant red text, and just under that would be a white avatar with words written in the same color as the avatar that read “pewds.” Lying under that were two, once again, grayed out avatars and names. These included a yellow avatar going by the name of “Dave,” and a brown avatar named “poki.”

“What the fuck?” Sean called out.

You chuckled and then unmuted your mic.

“Holy shit.” Corpse said, sounding calm as ever.

“DAMN.” You yelled.

“Alright alright, calm your tits. Where’s the body Rae?” Felix asked.

“The body.. was in Electrical.”

“Of course it was... really sus, Rae!” Felix called, holding back a laugh.

“How is that sus?” Sean asked, laughing.

“Wait, Sykkuno’s dead? Wasn’t he left with Felix last?” You asked.

“Well, they were in card swipe.. then they went to medbay. I don’t know what happened after that...” Lily said, matter-of-factly.

“YEAH REALLY SUS PEWDS,” Rae yelled.

Corpse was his usual quiet self.

“Okay, shut up, shut up and let me explain. So, I was in admin, doing the card swipe thingy. I failed like three times and then Sykkuno, buddy, was waiting for me. We headed to medbay, he scanned, and then,” he paused, “Then what?” Sean asked. “WE SPLIT UP. I went to cafeteria and over to weapons, he went to reactor or in that direction, I think.” Felix explained.

“Right, okay, I guess you’re good. Still sus of you. Anyways, did anyone see anyone else leaving electrical or leaving from the direction of electrical?” You asked.

“Hang on, Y/N. Where were you, Rae?” Corpse inquired.

“Ah shit.” She whispered, which obviously got a few chuckles from people. “I was in cafeteria, with poki, and then she went to do admin. I went down to to shields, where I met Dave, but he’s dead, so..” She paused. “Anyways, I then went to nav, did a task there, then lights got called. I went back to cafeteria, then down by admin and then found poki’s body.” Rae explained.

“SUS!” Felix screamed.

“Shut up, dummy.” You said, jokingly.

“Now you’re sus,” Felix said.

Yours and Felix’s little cat-fight raised giggles, mostly from Corpse. Corpse adored you.

“Alright, no evidence, I’m gonna skip.” Corpse said.

“Same.”

“Yeah, same.”

“If it’s Corpse, I swear...”

“SKIP!”

In about 4 seconds, 6 different-colored beans popped up on the “SKIP” vote. The screen showed a black screen with moving, white dots--presumably stars--with letters popping up one by one, reading “No one was ejected (Skipped).”

You muted your mic and went on to look for Corpse so you could get a double kill. You found him in Reactor as he had sabotaged it. Lo and behold, Sean and Rae pulled up at the same time. You performed a double kill, winning the game.

Everyone unmuted their mics as you slyly chuckled.

“Y/N?? IT WAS YOU?! FUCKING Y/N.. THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE.” Felix called out.

“Damn, nice going Corpse,” Sean said, calmly.

“I hate you Corpse.” Dave said, surprisingly nonchalant.

“OH YEAH BUT I WAS SUS, FELIX.” Rae exclaimed, spitefully.

“Y/N!! WHY WOULD YOU KILL ME? I TRUSTED YOU!” Poki said, obviously joking.

“Payback!” You yelled.

“Okay, okay. I’m just wondering why Sean didn’t say shit when I was killed like five feet away from him,” Toast added.

“WHERE DID YOU EVEN DIE?” Sean asked.

“Communications!”

“I left like 15 seconds before you died.”

“I was literally with Felix the entire time, and the second we split up Y/N kills me.” Sykkuno cuts them off.

“Alright alright, nicely done baby- I mean Y/N.” Corpse praised.

The entire call went silent, and everyone’s Twitch/YouTube chats were flooded.

“Baby?” Rae asked.

“Did you mean to say that?” Toast added.

“Ah, uhm.. I..” Corpse stuttered.

“Yes, he did. Thank you babe.” You finished for him, your heart racing.

“Alright, we’re gonna get off now. Thanks guys, I’ll play with you tomorrow,” Corpse said, an obvious nervous shaking in his voice.

“Bye!”

“See ya.”

You shut off your stream and left the game & Discord call, as did he. You went into his room and immediately hugged him to calm his anxiety.

“Hey, babe, it’s okay. Please don’t worry. You did amazing, and I know how much this must’ve hurt you.” You reassured him.

“But I know how much you wanted to keep it private, and I know how much I fucked things up for us. I’m so sorry love, I’m so, so sorry,” he apologized, his deep voice beginning to crack.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. Look at me.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with sadness, anxiety, and a hint of lust for you.

“It’s okay to cry.”

The minute you said that, he buried his head in your chest and began silently crying.

You two stayed there for about two minutes, hugging each other and non-verbally offering each other your love, until you suggested that you should lay down.

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

“I love you, Corpse.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

#fanfiction #courpse husband #corpse #corpse fic #corpse imagines #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader

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heller-a-good-time · 4 years ago

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I offer a theory about tonight’s episode and the finale and yes it’s a long shot but I’m just writing this to make both myself and all of you feel a little better.......

From the very beginning of this episode, something felt off.

Dean tells Sam and Jack what happens to Cas and everyone has a very underwhelming reaction to it. Not to mention, they gloss over how exactly Cas died.

For the entirety of the episode they don’t seem very effected by Cas’s death.

Next, we’re told that Lucifer was brought back from the empty despite the fact that only a few episodes ago we were told chuck had no way of doing that. We can obviously chalk that up to bad writing and most likely it probably is. But it’s crazy that they seriously created a plot hole for episodes that are so close to one another. This is usually something we see happen between different seasons.

Also, despite everything that Lucifer has done in this show, the brothers are almost too quick to trust him. Granted they do have some doubts at the very beginning but the brothers would usually put up a bit more fight than that considering how much Lucifer has taken from them over the years. Dean has struggled to trust Jack for several seasons because of what he’s done and specifically what happened to Mary. And yet Dean trusts Lucifer in the space of a couple of minutes.

Then, there’s the ending.

When Chuck finally decides to end Dean and Sam, he says he can “Get his hands dirty” despite the fact that in an episode earlier in the season, Sam accuses him of being too afraid to get his hands dirty.

Chuck is defeated almost too quickly for being God. And the way he begs for Sam and Dean to kill him as they drive away also just doesn’t seem like God.

Also, this entire season, we’ve seen Dean absolutely furious over what Chuck has done to him and his family’s lives. He has been so hellbent on killing him that he pointed a gun at his own brother just two episodes ago. Even last episode, he tried to take Death on by himself because he was so motivated to kill Chuck. And then when he’s finally at that moment he’s been waiting for, he barely seems to care. Granted, it could be argued that Cas’s death might’ve made him finally realize how reckless he’s been the entire season. But everytime Dean has ever lost someone he usually has two responses. Getting himself killed or revenge (with the exception of Sam’s deaths where he obviously desperately tries to bring him back but I’ll talk more about that in a second) It’s been a consistent pattern with him throughout the show. And yet all of them are absent here. They’re not even acknowledged.

And also, them sparing Chuck wasn’t them being heroic. Killing him would have been mercy in this instance. Instead, they force him to live as mortal with no family—because he killed the only son who still trusted him, and he has to spend the rest of his life knowing he couldn’t defeat Sam and Dean. This specifically reminds me of that scene when Dean was demon back in season 10 when he spared the man who had traveled all that way and trained his entire life just to kill Dean for what he did to his father. And Dean spares him. Not because it was the good thing to do. Because the man would spend his entire life knowing he missed his one shot and that was ultimately a worse punishment than death. And they do the same thing to Chuck in this episode.

When Jack brings everyone back, the boys don’t even seem to care that now all of their friends and Eileen are alive. Sam doesn’t even mention her despite the fact that two episodes ago when he first heard about everyone “going back to where they belong” his first concern was Eileen. He was also completely gutted last episode knowing she was gone and he doesn’t even mourn her in this episode.

Also, when Jack becomes God, Dean doesn’t even ask him to bring Cas back. Despite the fact that this is once again one of his common responses we’ve seen consistently throughout the show when he loses someone. And especially considering how Cas died, Dean should especially want him back. Even when not interpreting his feelings romantically, Cas has been his best friend for 11 years. And they finally have the peace that Cas helped them fight (and sacrificed his own life) for. Dean would want Cas back. Especially since he knows now from earlier on in this episode that God has the power to do that.

Jack then decided to not go to the bunker with them. Despite the fact that for the three seasons he’s been in, the only thing he’s ever wanted was a family and to be accepted. (Let’s not even mention the fact that the brothers were both just chill with a 3 year old running the universe now. Even if it is Jack. He’s literally three. But whatever.)

The boys head back to the bunker and celebrate their “big win” if you can even call it that. They are completely content with being all alone. They lost Cas. They kind of lost Jack too. And they’re fine with it.

Literally last season, a bunch of hunters from the alternate dimension that they barely knew were all murdered and they were more upset about the bunker being empty after that than they are at the end of this episode.

They do a toast to all of the people they’ve lost along the way in a bit too good of a mood, which is something that these characters would never do. We’ve seen them grieve every person they’ve ever lost prior to this episode and they always believe the blood in on their hands. Yet now they’re suddenly content with the people they’ve lost. Even if it was their own faults.

The entire show has been about family. And yet half of their family is missing in this ending and they’re okay.

The entire show has also been about how the two of them have a crippling codependent relationship and how that always seems to start trouble. Instead of the brothers finally acknowledging this relationship. They now live happily in the bunker. Probably still codependent on each other.

Which means neither of them were forced to learn a damn thing.

My point is this episode feels very off.

And people who have watched 15 seasons of this show more than likely recognize that.

And there’s so many things that seem wrong and ooc that it almost feels as if it’s on purpose.

And that’s why I’m starting to wonder.....

What if it is?

There’s one more episode to go and what if, just maybe, they reveal that the episode that we just watched tonight isn’t what really happened. Maybe it’s the cheesy “it was all a dream” trope. Who knows?

The biggest reason why I believe this (besides the fact that I’m just a salty bitch and I need to find a way to calm myself down) is because this ending aligns almost perfectly with what Becky said about Chuck’s final ending earlier on in the season.

I now provide you the examples:

Just saying.....

I think that this might just be another variation of Chuck’s endings that they were forced to play out. Or something like that.

Because there’s just so many things that don’t fit with the entire rest of the show.

From what I’ve seen online thus far, people are very upset with this episode. Because they’ve watched 15 seasons of this show and they can tell when something just isn’t right.

And in a way, if this episode was purposely made to feel off to then reveal in the finale that none of this was real, it would pay respect to the fans who watched the show for all these years. Because they’re so familiar with the characters and the way plot lines usually play out that when all of a sudden it felt like Opposite Day watching this episode, they picked up on it and they were supposed to.

(Also another thing that I just realized I forgot to add, maybe this is just me, but a lot of the scenes in the montage at the end were very random??? Like a lot of them were insignificant scenes from the show. Ya know? I just think if any of us put together a montage for this show it would probably feature very different scenes. Like way more important ones. Maybe this fits into my theory? Maybe I’m absolutely reaching too damn far with this one. Idk. Please tell me I’m crazy)

Maybe this episode relied on fans having extensive knowledge of this show and it’s past. Maybe this episode wants you to believe something is off about it. Because they’re going to rip the rug right out from under you in the finale.

Hell, maybe this entire season has been a lie. We’ve seen Dean specifically do things he would never do in previous episodes. Point a gun at Sam. Tell Jack he’s not family. Be completely on board with sacrificing a family member. And Sam has been practically wallpaper in this season but maybe let’s not get into that too much. And hell, I’m gonna say it: Destiel went kinda canon when we never in a million years ever thought it would. Maybe all of these things are supposed to tell us all of this season wasn’t real? Maybe. Dunno. I think I’m actually just going insane? Yeah that’s probably it.

I’m really just spit balling here. Mostly because I was very upset by this episode. But maybe some of you feel the same and even if this is nowhere close to where the show is heading in its ending, I just wanted to maybe provide some comfort to those who feel the same as me.

Or maybe I’m completely wrong and this episode was just bad.

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urgonnaneedabiggership · 4 years ago

Text

Never Too Far

David Bowie x Fem! Reader

Category: Fluff, angst

Warnings: Just slight angst

Word Count: 5.9K

A/N: Hope you enjoy this little piece fueled by excitement and love for Bowie, I swear I proof read a couple of times but if anything went over my head, I apologize in advance for it. Enjoy! xox

Originally Posted by @fleeting-queen-of-pepperland

__________________

Music blared through the speakers, invading every inch of the house, making Y/n's chest rumble. Her hand tightly gripping her brother's as they made their way across the large living room towards the kitchen.

"Are you sure they're in there?" Y/n asked, stretching her neck and brushing a couple strands of hair behind her ears to take a better look at the sea of faces surrounding them. John answered with a meek nod followed by an unsure shrug.

"Roger said he'd be here, Brian already left with someone and god knows where Freddie is," he answered, slightly annoyed at his band mates for ditching him and his sister. They had been the ones to talk him into letting Y/n go with them to the party.

"But it's at Mick's" John had protested "I don't want my sister on her own at one of his parties."

"Come on, Deacy!" Roger had insisted. "She's what, five minutes younger than you?"

"Three." Y/n corrected, palms sweating as she tapped her fingers against her knees anxiously. "Please, John. You might've gotten used to being around these people by now, but this would mean so much to me!"

John pursed his lips thoughtfully and stared at Y/n, who looked at him pleadingly, mouthing another "please", holding her hands together in front of her lips.

"Alright," he receded, throwing his arms up in defeat "But don't wander off and if you even look at anything other than a joint, we're out. Understood?"

Y/n nodded and hugged her brother gleefully, planting a kiss on his cheek, thanking him profusely.

"Oh, don't worry, darling" Freddie said, patting John's shoulder reassuringly. "We'll look out of her from time to time, she'll be fine,"

Of course, they didn't, ergo John's annoyed expression.

Once they walked into the kitchen, Roger was indeed in there, rummaging one of the cupboards while drunkenly whispering to himself.

"For fuck's sake Jagger, you have all but the Queen's knickers in here but not some damn licorice?"

"Rog?" John called from behind the drummer, who tripped on the chair he was standing on and barely managed to hold himself up by gripping the edge of the kitchen counter. He stared at the twins and smiled widely, a half-eaten chocolate bar hanging from his free hand.

"Deacy! Y/n!" he exclaimed and carefully stepped down, "How's the party? Are you having a good time, love?"

Roger didn't wait for a reply before taking another bite out of his chocolate bar, shaking his head while looking at Y/n.

"Of course you aren't, how can you be remotely having fun with your dear chaperone breathing down your neck, you poor, poor thing. "

Roger threw an arm around Y/n's shoulders and pulled her head down to his chest, running his hand down her hair in a comforting manner.

Despite wanting to protest, Y/n knew he was right. She loved her brother to pieces, but he did have a hard time assimilating that fact that she was not a little girl anymore, and she wanted to live a lot more than he probably would be comfortable with.

Unfortunately, she had never been confrontational enough to openly tell John to back off. If anything, she would sneak away or find any other passive way to get rid of her occasionally overbearing twin.

Mostly, it was a lucky twist of fate that saved her from this kind of situation, and this wasn't the exception.

That night it came in the shape of Freddie barging in through the kitchen door.

"Brian just got in a fight!" he announced.

"What? I thought he was leaving with that brunette!" John exclaimed, looking puzzled. Freddie laughed almost maniacally and nodded.

"Oh, he tried to leave with her alright. But turns out she came here with Townshend and he's having none of it, and apparently dear Bri isn't either."

"I've got to see that, where are they?" Roger asked, bolting through the door.

"Upstairs, in the hallway!" the singer replied as he quickly followed, still laughing gleefully.

"Damn," John muttered, seeing them go before turning to his sister. "Stay here, I'll go and see if I'm sober enough to save their drunk asses"

Y/n nodded eagerly, obviously not intending to obey his order and already wondering what part of the house she'd venture to first once John was out of the equation. Probably not the hallway upstairs. Just as a precaution, Y/n waited for a couple of minutes after her twin disappeared behind the kitchen door. As she scanned her surroundings, her eyes landed on the fridge before her.

"Oh, what the hell." she whispered to herself as she swung the door open and grabbed a bottle of beer. Y/n hummed while she carefully pressed the lid against the edge of the counter and, with a sudden upwards movement, opened the bottle. A handy trick she had learned from Roger.

Since everything seemed clear, she reached her hand out to grab the door knob before it suddenly twisted and someone flung the door open, covertly sliding inside the kitchen and closing the door after him.

Instinctively thinking it was her brother, Y/n retreated to her original position, as if she never intended to leave the room.

But the figure before her wasn't John.

He was barely shorter, and slimmer. His skin was porcelain smooth, strands of his scruffy yellow hair fell over his forehead. With a quick head movement the man flipped them out of his face, uncovering his eyes.

It wasn't until he turned around that she could see them properly, but he almost jumped backwards, startled by the figure quietly standing on the other side of the room that had gone unnoticed by him.

"Bloody hell," he blurted out before taking a deep breath and leaning against the wall besides the door. "Sorry, I could've sworn I was alone,"

"No, no, it's okay." Y/n assured him with a soft chuckle. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I shouldn't have just stood here, in a dark corner, looking so creepy,"

"Well," he replied with a smirk "Can't be worse than a pale, scrawny weird-eyed lad, can it?"

She nodded with an amused smile and shrugged.

"Touche. I honestly thought for a moment I had too much to drink and was seeing a ghost, but then I realized…" Y/n lifted the untouched bottle of beer she was holding. "... I'm completely sober."

"Love, you don't want that." the man made his way towards her with a couple of strides and snatched the bottle from her hands.

"I have already been here several times," he whispered, leaning closer to her as if he was revealing a big secret, even if they were alone in the kitchen. "I know where to find something more… suitable for such a pretty lady, follow me."

He took her hand, practically engulfing it in his slender and delicate fingers. He led her out of the kitchen, not letting go as he made his way across the crowd that had gathered in the living room, going as far as the top of the stairs. However, Y/n realized he was being careful as to not drag her too roughly through the innumerable bodies.

Finally, he turned around a corner and slid through a small door, behind which a small staircase descended into a pitch black corridor.

"I'm David," he said as he continued to walk down the stairs. Even in the darkness, Y/n could see his wide, mischievous smile when he looked back at her.

"Y/n," she replied smiling back, although she doubted he had noticed since her eyes were anxiously fixed on the steps.

"Here," he said gently, almost reading her mind, as he took her hand and placed it on his arm. "This stair is a little bit steep, you might want to hold onto me."

Y/n nodded with a soft "thank you" before they continued their descent.

Finally, they reached an underground room. David reached out his hand and began feeling the wall next to the entrance until he found the light switch.

When he turned on the lights, Y/n could see three rows of large barrels and another of wooden racks, full of wine bottles of different kinds. Finally, a small metallic table stood in the center of the room, a silver tray with four glasses resting atop.

"See?" David said, rubbing his hands together as he made his way towards the racks. He knelt before one and moved his fingers tentatively around the bottles while he chose one. Finally, he gripped the neck of a bottle with a beautifully painted label depicting an abstract bouquet of posies on a white background.

"Are you sure Mick will be okay with this?"

Y/n asked, snickering nervously as she approached the table. David nodded without a single trace of worry and carefully pulled the cork off.

"Come on, he won’t miss one sad little bottle, he’s got plenty,” he assured and carefully poured the two glasses, handing one to Y/n.

“Well, cheers to that,” Y/n said, lifting her glass with a soft laugh. He reciprocated the toast and took a small sip of his glass, staring at Y/n thoughtfully with pursed lips as she took another sip.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you?” he said with an amused grin. Y/n felt her face burn as she bit the inside of her cheek, pondering on whether the words in her brain should leave her mouth. However, thanks to that odd instant connection established between the two of them, David seemed to peek into her mind once again.

“You do know who I am, don’t you?” he asked.

“I do!” Y/n gave in, clamping her hand over her forehead and shaking her head, “Of course I do, I’ve been actively trying to get a hold of myself for the last ten minutes, I figured it would be awful to come up to someone wanting a normal conversation and instead end up with another starstruck fan babbling about how much they love your music and how you’re amazing, blah, blah, blah.”

Y/n looked up at David, who was just staring back with a surprised expression and obviously trying to refrain himself from bursting out laughing. However, before she could panic any further, he grabbed the bottle and leaned forward.

“I believe the most responsible thing to do would be to cut you off,” However, he did exactly the opposite and tilted the bottle to refill Y/n’s glass. “But if this is what it takes to keep you talking, I’d let you wipe out Mick’s entire cellar, dear.”

Y/n let out a relieved laughter, feeling more tranquil now that she had gotten that off her chest and didn’t scare poor David away. Said calmness increased when he began laughing as well. It was an honest and hearty laugh that made both of them forget the entire party above them, even after the laughter stopped and they sat in a comfortable silence, sipping on their glasses contentedly.

“Coltrane,” David said after a short while. Y/n hummed questioningly and furrowed her eyebrows.

“John Coltrane,” the musician repeated, “do you know him?”

“I absolutely love John Coltrane,” Y/n replied, emphasizing every word, “I have spent years collecting every album of his, and now I’m only missing A Love Supreme,”

“That I can help with,” David replied with a flirty smile. Y/n now positively blushed, which he noticed despite her attempt to hide it behind the glass as she raised it to her lips.

“Smooth,” She quipped. “Alright, Chet Baker?”

“Love him. I’d hate to boast, but I own a gigantic collection of jazz records. Coltrane, Davis, Baker, you name it. Perhaps you’d like to visit me sometime and I could show them to you?”

Y/n nearly choked on her wine. However, she realized that the longer she kept talking to the world-famous rockstar, the less she perceived him as such, now rather seeing him as a fellow jazz connoisseur who happened to be undeniably charming.

Suddenly, their pleasant chatter was interrupted by an odd sound. It was so out of place that it took Y/n a couple minutes to put her finger on what it was, until she realized it was a doorbell. More specifically, the one they had at her building. How the hell could the doorbell of her flat be ringing in Mick Jagger’s cellar, and too loudly to be at the main door?

As Y/n turned to face David, she blinked confused when her eyes met nothing but an empty space next to the table. Before she could think or say anything else, the doorbell began ringing once again in an annoyingly persistent fashion.

Y/n opened her eyes and found herself staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. She felt a dull ache in her chest and sighed deeply, hoisting herself up and rubbing her eyes groggily. Y/n swung her legs over the edge of her bed and looked down when her toes collided with something cold and smooth. She picked up a small, square object that laid beside her bed, recognizing it as an object she should’ve never taken out of the box in the attic to which it had been confined for months.

It was a framed picture of David and her together. He was hugging her by the neck and planting a kiss on her temple. The Y/n of the picture smiled gleefully, her hands placed atop the musician’s.

Y/n huffed and placed the picture inside a drawer next to her bed as the phone downstairs began ringing. She hurried down the stairs and plucked the annoying artifact from its base.

“Yes?” she answered. The familiar voice of her brother sounded on the other side, especially cheerful.

“Happy birthday!” he greeted, “Where are you? Are you at home? I’ve been ringing on your doorbell for ages!”

“Birthday?” she answered, furrowing her eyebrows. “Oh, right. Our birthday. I’m sorry, John. I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

She rushed to the mirror in her bathroom and stared at her face, didn’t liking at all what she saw. Her eyes and cheeks were noticeably red and puffy, and the last thing she needed was a concerned twin that tended to ask too many questions regarding her well-being.

Y/n hastily threw some cold water on her face and patted her hair to make it look somewhat neat before hurrying downstairs and opening the door to find John standing before her. By the way the edges of his lips sunk when he laid eyes on her, she knew her efforts to look perfectly fine had been futile. Stupid twin intuition, she thought, stepping aside to let him in. They walked upstairs in silence and, right after she closed the door after him, John spoke.

“Do you want to t–?”

“I had a dream about him again,” Y/n snapped, folding her arms and sitting on the sofa. John thought that in that position she accurately resembled a pouting child.

“Y/n…” John cooed sitting next to her, his arm placed comfortingly over her shoulders “Listen, I came to invite you to the studio. Me and the boys are recording a new song today, and I know how much you love to hear us play, and since it’s our birthday we could get lunch after...but if you don’t feel like going, I could ring them, tell them something came up, then we could go to Brixton and get some of those Cuban sweets you like so much…”

“Jamaican,” Y/n interjected with a soft smile, which her brother returned.

“Jamaican sweets, then. How does that sound?”

Y/n looked around the flat. That day it felt particularly small and stuffy, and no matter how much she wanted to stay in and spend the day in bed, she knew there was nothing that could lift her spirits more than sunlight, good music and the three boys she loved most in the whole world.

Suddenly, the sound of a car honk blared through the window, followed by the unmistakable voice of Roger.

“Come on, Deacons! Are you coming, or what?”

Y/n giggled and shook her head before staring up at her twin.

“I thought you said you could ring them to reschedule,”

“I might have decided to forget they were downstairs waiting in the car in favor of your well-being,”

“Then I guess it would be extremely rude to keep them waiting, wouldn’t it?”

Y/n said, keeping an exaggeratedly serious attitude.

“Oh, absolutely. How shalt thou proceed?”

He replied, making a funny nasal voice to accompany his parodic posh accent. Y/n laughed and threw her arms in the air as she walked back into her bedroom.

“Alright, alright, you win. I’ll be ready in a bit.”

Y/n hummed as she wandered around the recording studio, carrying the notebook with the notes of the new song John was writing for the album. She flipped through the pages, admiring her brother’s messy handwriting, so typical of him when he was in a hurry.

She loved the recording studio, and deeply appreciated the band’s willingness to let her tag along whenever she wanted. If it was up to her, Y/n would spend every single day with them at the studio, but she knew they needed space as a band and a Masters took up much more of her time than she expected.

Thus, she was more than happy to sporadically join them and perform small tasks such as fetching things they had forgotten in the car, like the notebook she was holding in her hands.

Reaching the door of the room in which they were recording, she grabbed the handle and walked in, her eyes still fixed on the pages.

“John, here’s your notebook,” she announced, lifting her glance, “I’m serious, if your head wasn’t attached to your neck…”

Y/n froze in place, a cold shiver slowly sliding down her spine as her eyes fell upon the figure that sat on a chair, staring at the boys who were already inside the booth, discussing something among them. She slowly placed the notebook atop one of the speakers and silently walked backwards to avoid drawing attention to her, but it was too late.

David’s blue eyes wandered to the side until they collided with Y/n’s, freezing him in place as well. Feeling her throat dry up, she couldn’t think of anything better to do other than making her escape through the doors and going back to the hallway, where she stared blankly at the wall before her as she tried to collect her thoughts.

What the bloody hell is he doing here? she thought, fighting the urge to peek back inside to make sure he hadn’t followed her.

It wasn’t necessary. Shortly after, Y/n heard steps headed towards the door. Without making sure it was even David, she quickly began walking down the hallway, trying to remember whether it led to the exit at all.

She felt cornered when she reached a dead end, seeing nothing but doors leading to empty studios around her, and the steps kept getting closer. For a short instant she considered the possibility of hiding inside one of the studios, but they were probably locked and it sounded much too childish anyway.

She couldn’t keep running anymore.

“Y/n?” The voice behind her spoke, making her stomach feel as if it was riding a roller coaster. She faked a composed smile and turned to face David as he approached her with slow, hesitant steps. “I didn’t expect to see you here,”

“Hi,” she coolly greeted, “Yeah, I...I didn’t expect you to be here either. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you for months,” he interjected, ignoring her question with a pang of annoyance in his voice. She lifted her eyebrows with faux surprise.

“Really? Oh, I’ve been quite busy. That’s just how things are sometimes, right?”

However, the recognition she expected to find in his eyes wasn’t there, as if the words she had intentionally chosen meant nothing to him. Unbeknownst to her, the same moment she had been replaying in her mind over and over for the past months was exactly what he had in mind right then, trying to make any sense of what she was trying to say.

It hadn’t been a nice day from the very beginning. Rainy, windy and cold. Both of them actually enjoyed that kind of day, but this one felt different.

It probably was the fact that David’s reply to Y/n’s “I love you” before she left their shared flat was “See you,” or that the night before he had insisted on her going to bed so he could stay up working on the songs for his album, promising he would join her when he was done only for Y/n to find him sleeping on the couch in the morning.

When her classes were over for the day, she went straight to the phone booth outside her college and dialed his number cheerfully. When he picked up, he sounded tired and even slightly irritated.

“Who is it?” he dryly spoke. Y/n frowned, a little confused and decidedly hurt.

“Hi love, it’s me,” she replied, hoping his tone would change when he realized it was his girlfriend calling. However, that wasn’t the case.

“Oh, hi. What is it?” David answered.

“Nothing, it’s just...I wanted to let you know that my last class was canceled, so I’ll be coming home earlier, alright?”

“Yeah, fine. I’ll see you here,” he replied. However, Y/n didn’t hang up.

“Wait, I was thinking, maybe we could go out and have dinner together? They opened a new place downtown and it seems lovely.”

“Sure, if that’s what you want,”

Y/n blinked, still confused. Had she done or said anything wrong? Why did he sound so bitter?

“Is it not what you want?” She tentatively asked, still maintaining a happy disposition towards him despite his attitude.

“No, it's fine. Listen Y/n, I’m a little busy at the moment, we’ll talk about it when you come home, okay? See you later,”

“Yes, fine. I’ll see you later, I lo–”

But he had already hung up. She sighed and exited the booth, gloomily realizing that had been the second unanswered “I love you,” of the day, something that was becoming more and more frequent.

When she arrived at their flat, Y/n slid the keys inside the lock and turned them as quietly as she could, slowly swinging the door open.

As she made her way through the flat, Y/n could hear David’s voice in the kitchen, somewhat muffled by the whistle of the kettle.

“...I know, I know,” he spoke, sounding tired. A pause followed before he spoke again.

“I just want one hour, Lou,” he snapped, “One bloody hour to work properly with no distractions and not having to worry about being an arse to her,”

He must be at the phone, Y/n thought as she moved closer.

Y/n stopped on her tracks and covertly stood next to the kitchen door. When David said “her” was he referring to his girlfriend? Was he considering her a distraction to his work? Of course she had noticed he was feeling a lot of stress from the new album, but didn’t think her efforts to relieve him of some of that pressure were unwanted. Perhaps she had unknowingly crossed some boundary?

“I know she does, and I didn't mind it at first, but...I just can’t stand her sometimes, and I feel like shit about it. Maybe...I don’t know, lately I’ve been wondering whether it’s time to call things off. She’s doing her best, I know she is, but I refuse to put up with it anymore.”

By that point, Y/n had to clamp her hand over her mouth to muffle the strangled sob that began to build up down her throat. She wished more than ever that her last class hadn’t been canceled, that she was far away from there, sitting before her desk without even suspecting that the love of her life was planning on getting rid of such a “distraction”. She was completely taken aback. The hurtful way in which he was referring to her, even cold-heartedly, didn’t sound like the David she had met and fallen in love with. She would have bet on her life he would never talk about her like that.

“Yeah, it’s a pity, I did like her, you know? But now I hear her come in and I honestly want to jump out of the window,” Then David laughed. He dismissively talked about breaking things off with her and laughed about it. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and Y/n’s heart as well. “Anyway, that’s the way things are sometimes. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

Y/n didn’t intend to stay and listen for not even one more lousy minute. It took her two seconds to realize she didn’t have the strength to face him. Just standing in the flat, staring at the walls that had witnessed so many hours of their relationship made her sick.

As silently as she had arrived, but with tears in her eyes and a sharp pain bolting relentlessly through her chest, Y/n slipped out the door and rushed down the street, unsure of where she would go next or what she would do. She only knew that she wanted to be as far away from David as she could.

But apparently, the universe had other plans. The man she had spent months avoiding was now standing before her, looking hurt and confused as he opened his mouth to speak.

“I need to talk to you,”

“I think it’s too late for that,” Y/n cut him off, “because I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Exactly,” David replied, “What happened? One day you went to college as always and never came back, you changed your phone number, nobody will tell me where you have been living, where did you go, and most importantly, you didn’t even tell me why you left in the first place.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows and blinked, feeling extremely confused.

“Are you serious?” she asked, “I heard your phone call with Lou, David. I heard everything you said about me being a distraction, and how you couldn’t stand me anymore, and how you wanted to jump through the fucking window every time you heard me come home. And I tried to spare us the whole breakup speech by just leaving, but if you want to talk about it fine, let’s talk about it.”

David just stood and stared at her, not even a trace of guilt dashed over his face, just utter confusion until his eyes went wide and his mouth broke into a relieved grin, his hand pressed against his forehead.

“Oh my god,” he said and began chuckling nervously, “I can’t...oh god.”

“What’s so funny?” Y/n exclaimed, not deciding on whether she should feel hurt, insulted or just as perplexed as he did seconds before.

“Y/n...that call was not about you at all.”

“What?”

“How could you have even conceived I’d say such things about you? I was talking about Miranda, the assistant I had been working with for two months,”

Y/n just moved her mouth a couple of times as if she wanted to say something, but her mind was a complete blank, her brain struggling to order her thoughts and give them some logic, replaying the conversation in her mind. Since she did not speak, David took this as a sign to continue his explanation.

“She was a fan of mine but I didn’t mind it at first, because it did not interfere with her job. But eventually she began flirting with me until it became unbelievably annoying and I decided to fire her, although I did feel pretty bad about it because she was a nice girl, I just couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

“But…” Y/n murmured, still unsure. “They way you acted towards me before, like...like you didn’t want me around at all.”

David’s eyes saddened at that statement, and the guilt that had been missing from his face suddenly appeared as he nodded.

“That I did and it is completely my fault. The deadline for the album was around the corner, I was struggling with my writing, and I made the terrible mistake of taking all that frustration out on you, and you can’t imagine how sorry I am, darling. It didn’t dawn on me how unfair I was and how horrible you must have felt until I found myself alone in that flat and realized you weren’t coming back.”

David pressed his lips together and sighed deeply before slowly making his way towards her, lingeringly wrapping his hands around hers.

“I guess what I’m trying to say, Y/n, is that I’ve terribly missed you. I was angry at you for leaving without an explanation, and so I didn’t even try to find you. By the time I realized I loved you too much to let my pride get the best of me, you were already gone. And if you let me, I promise I will fix that.”

“David,” Y/n replied with a sigh, “I don’t know. I would love to believe all of that is true just like that...but somehow…”

“You find it hard to trust me,” David finished for her. After all, he was still capable of reading her mind so easily. She bit her lip and nodded, tears threatening to fall from her eyes as she blinked.

“I’ll need some time to think about it, okay?” she said, putting her hand against this cheek with a gentle smile before clearing her throat and making her way around him to head back to the studio.

However, before she could take two steps, his voice stopped her.

“A Love Supreme.” he stated, turning to face her, his face full of a new resolution. “The day we met you told me the only Coltrane album you were missing was A Love Supreme, and I didn’t forget, do you want to know why I never mentioned it again?”

“David,” Y/n began to say, only to be immediately silenced by him.

“No, no, let me finish. I didn’t forget, and the only reason why I never gave it to you was because I didn’t want to give you just another album. I spent months looking for something way better than that, something that lived up to what you deserve. And one month before you left, I found it. It was an unopened record signed by Coltrane himself, and I was saving it for your birthday, for today, as fate would have it. And I never got rid of it, I still have it after all these months just in case…” his voice faltered, and Y/n could see how his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes she was still infatuated with no matter how strongly she tried to deny it, turned glassy, prompting David to clear his throat. “Just in case you ever came back. And I’m still waiting and if I don’t walk out of here with you today, I will keep waiting.”

Y/n stared at him, scanning every inch of his face, until her eyes stopped when they met his. Slowly, she made her way back towards him and, in a contrastingly sudden movement, cupped his cheeks in her hands and pulled his face towards her to press a soft kiss to his lips. Yet, it did not remain that way for long as David slid his arms around her waist and pulled her closer almost desperately, his lips leaving hers to meet her cheeks, forehead, nose and finally her mouth once again.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” he said, his voice hoarse as a relieved but unsure smile tugged at the edge of his lips.

Y/n could only nod as she smiled back at him, her thumb softly caressing his cheek.

“I swear to god Bowie, if you ever treat me that way again, I will shove my foot so far up your–”

“I won’t, I promise,” he quickly assured, pecking her lips hastily, “Do you have any idea of how insufferable it was to live without somebody to bring me coffee while I worked?”

Y/n punched his arm jokingly, but couldn’t hold back a gleeful snicker as they made their way back to the studio, their fingers almost instinctively intertwined, and the world significantly brighter than it was when they woke up.

Epilogue

“So…” Y/n heard a voice behind her as she helped put the instruments back in their cases. “...is everything sorted out?”

She turned around to find her twin fondly smiling at her.

“It is. Isn’t it great that he happened to be around the studio?” she said, noticing a sheet of paper lying on the floor besides one of the speakers. Y/n picked it up and began reading it when she noticed it was a draft of a song.

“Under Pressure, with…” she lifted her head and stared at her brother, her eyes wide in realization. “You knew he’d be here. John Richard Deacon, did you deliberately ask me to come because you knew he’d be here?”

John’s face was pale. He obviously didn’t intend Y/n to find out like that. He probably had in mind something more subtle, like casually mentioning it to her at lunch later that day, or back at her flat.

“Look, I can explain,” he stuttered. “The first time you told me how everything happened, I couldn’t help but wonder why you didn’t even give the lad a chance to explain himself. Because you were right, I had to put up with your babbling about all the wonderful things he said to you for ages, and it did not sound like him. But you’re a very proud and stubborn person, Y/n. I love you, but you know it’s true. And I knew you wouldn’t do it without...well, some help. What can I say? I saw the chance and I took it.”

“Then why didn't you just give him my new address?” she inquired.

“Because if despite everything you still wanted him to stay away, your address would remain a secret.”

“Johnny, you absolute genius!” Y/n exclaimed, throwing her arms around her twin brother's neck and hugging him tightly, “Thank you. For everything.”

“Come on, what are twins for? Now, you go and have fun with him. It’s your birthday.”

“But I don’t want you or the boys to feel as if I ditched you,” Y/n said, a worried look on her face. John chuckled and shook his head with a shrug.

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling,” Freddie’s voice said from behind them as the singer walked by. “you have many, many birthdays left to spend with this bunch of old ladies, we can get lunch tomorrow. Now go.”

Y/n stared at him baffled, but before she could question anything, Brian looked at her, one of his eyebrows lifted.

“Of course we all knew of Deacy’s plan. Roger just lost money on this.”

“I didn’t lose shit!” Roger exclaimed, sulking out of the recording booth, “I said she would tell him to give her time to think about it, I never said she would reject him.”

Y/n looked fondly at the boys and shook her head. They truly were incorrigible. After gifting them with one last excited smile, she ran outside to meet the man she did not wish to be parted from ever again.

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