#I only have to do two more pages but dude ITS LIKE PULLING TEETH

[daincrediblegg]

So great news yeah I have fucking tmj and now I really don’t wanna do the work today

[bloodibambiidoll]

The Pull: Steddie x Succubus reader part 3

Summary: You move to Hawkins after spending the last decade in New York City hoping to have a peaceful and quiet next few years flying under the radar only feeding when necessary and making everyone you spend a night with forget you. But when you arrive, you feel a pull from two men like you’ve never felt before. As soon as you feel it you know flying under the radar here wasn’t going to cut it, you had to find them. Masterlist

Warnings: This chapter contains SMUT. Rough sex, demon/human sex, dom/sub dynamics, spit kink, face fucking, choking, hair pulling, M/M/F threesome. If I missed any please lmk!

A/N: this chapter is much longer than the first two, and it gets a bit angsty at the end but I promise all will be well in part 4, which will be the final part! Also I’m totally creating my own succubus lore as I go, I hope no one minds that she’s not exactly lore accurate!

‼️THIS STORY AND MY PAGE ARE 18+ MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED IMMEDIATELY‼️

The minute his mouth was on yours you shoved your fingers into his mane of hair and kissed him back with fever. “Holy shit. You taste so fucking good, how do you literally taste like fruity pebbles?” He said as his mouth made its way from your lips down your neck.

You chuckled “is that what I taste like to you? That’s so cute. Remember what I said about my pheromones? More or less it’s the base of my powers, depending on how yours mix with mine it can change things about me. For instance, how I taste to you.” he paused his assault on your neck to give you a curious look “when you say ‘things’ what exactly do you mean by that?”

“Well-“ you were cut off by Steve suddenly turning you to face him “dude what the? Why did you do that!?” Steve didn’t answer, he just grabbed your hand and yanked you in towards him until you were flush against his chest before he kissed you so hard it made your head spin “you were being greedy” he said looking over your shoulder at Eddie who was still standing behind you both. “Also that pheromone thing is freaky because you taste exactly like those cherries you get in Shirley Temples to me. And you smell just as good” you felt Eddie come up behind you and shove his face into your neck “you do, you smell sooo sweet baby”

Baby? He’s calling you baby and they’re both touching you and kissing you and you feel like if they weren’t both holding onto you that you might faint. “Fuck-“ your voice almost sounded foreign to you when you spoke, never hearing yourself sound so submissive before “I need you I need you both, please fuck me” you saw Steve’s eyes roll in the back of his head and heard Eddie groan “oh my god, I can’t believe this is fucking real right now, we are gonna give you whatever you want sweets, don’t you worry”

Steve leaned down and grabbed you behind your knees before throwing you over his shoulder and walking towards what you assumed was their bedroom, Eddie shut the door behind him and Steve set you down gently on your feet in front of him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked up into his gorgeous honey eyes “mmm.. you guys smell good too you know? I could sense you the minute I stepped foot in this town and I could smell you from a mile away.. I feel dizzy standing this close to you” your eyes shifted to a bright red again and you felt your teeth sharpen, you couldn’t take it anymore you ripped your top over your head and started on the zipper of your skirt.

They both just stood there for a second taking in the fact that not only were you not wearing a bra but the underwear you were wearing were basically nothing “holy fuuuuckkkk” Eddie said as he ran his hands down his face “you are unfuckingreal holy shit” he walked over and grabbed both your tits in his large calloused hands, they felt so good against your soft skin you let out a breathy moan “I love that you guys are appreciating my beauty and all but I really need you to fuck me now, I haven’t fed since I got into town and I need it. Now.” It came out WAY whinier than you intended it to but it still got the point across because the next thing you knew you were being pushed down onto your back on the bed and your thong was being ripped from your body.

“Holy shit. You’re so fucking wet.” Eddie said before he paused “woah this tattoo is so sick!” He was looking down at your mark, a heart with bat wings “it’s my- you know what? I’ll tell you about it later just fucking TOUCH me already” that’s all it took before he licked a long stripe up your pussy to your clit where he began to suck “Oh my godddd- holy shit your mouth feels so good” you grabbed onto his hair and tugged a little, gauging his reaction, when he groaned you did it again, harder. “Stevvie, come here” you beckoned to the other boy who was standing on the side of the bed watching his boyfriend absolutely devour your cunt.

“Take your shirt off, I wanna see you” when he pulled his shirt over his head you felt yourself salivate, you had seen them both shirtless from afar but it had nothing on this. He came over and situated himself beside you, giving you another head spinning kiss before he trailed his mouth down your neck and to your tits where he took an already hardened nipple into his mouth, making you moan even louder.

You took one of your hands that was in Eddie’s hair to grab one of Steve’s hands, guiding it to your neck and leaving it there hoping he would take the hint. He immediately understood and wrapped his hand around your neck, adding just the right amount of pressure.

He looked up at you with a mischievous glint in his eye “oh? You like it rough? Is that what you’re telling me?”

You moaned “god yes, please, use me”

“You hear that Eds? She wants to be our little fuck doll” he moves his hand from your neck to your jaw squeezing your cheeks “open”

You stick out your tongue and he spits onto it, tapping your chin implying for you to close your mouth “swallow” you gulp before sticking you tongue out again, asking for more “please? you taste so good”

“I’ll give you something better to taste” he stands up and starts unbuckling his belt. Meanwhile Eddie paused his movements between your thighs to watch this interaction in awe for a moment before he moved into action “turn around, get on your hands and knees. Now.” You are barely sat all the way up before he’s moving you himself twisting you on your stomach and hiking your ass in the air by your hips “fuuuckk I’m going to fucking destroy this slutty little pussy” you whimpered at his words, your pussy clinching around nothing when you heard his belt buckle coming undone too.

You push yourself up on your hands to look and Steve and god does he look fucking delectable, he’s pulling his boxers down his toned thighs and when his cock springs free you actually fucking moan out loud because holy SHIT, he’s long and thick and so fucking hard. “God Steve, I need you in my mouth, I need you to cum down my throat.” You didn’t have to ask him twice, at this point he was so worked up he felt like he was going to bust the minute your tongue touched him.

Eddie got behind you in his knees, completely naked now and you felt a big ringed hand come down on your ass causing you to cry out “oh you like that baby?” He spanks you again, harder this time “are you a little pain slut? You wanna be smacked around?”

“God yes, please” you wiggled your ass against him, feeling his cock brush against your slick slit. He grabbed it in his hand and tapped it against your clit a few times. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel that he was big too. After a few more taps on your clit you felt the head of his cock against your tight hole. He pushed in a few inches before pulling out again.

You couldn’t take it, unexpectedly you slammed your hips all the way down against his, bottoming him out inside you.

“Fuuuuck oh my god you are so fucking tight holy shit” he started fucking into you hard and deep. Steve grabbed your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. His cock was so close to your mouth, so hard, begging for attention without missing a beat you wrapped your hand around the base and shoved his cock all the way down your throat in one motion.

“Holyfuckingshit- oh my god” he was taken back for a moment, no one, not even Eddie had sucked his cock how you’re sucking it right now. You really are some kind of otherworldly sex being because your mouth is insane. Eddie is having similar thoughts about your pussy, it’s feels so fucking good it’s like he’s dreaming.

You moaned around Steve’s cock the vibrations causing him to lurch forward shoving his cock deeper down your throat. He pulled back for a moment half expecting you to gag, you looked up at him a string of spit still attached to his cock from your mouth “I want you to fuck my face Steve”

He growled at that, grabbing two fistfuls of your hair and shoving his cock all the way down your throat before he started fucking your face at a brutal pace “Good fucking girl letting me use that slutty little throat like this”

Eddie moved one of his hands from your hip to rub your clit and you felt yourself getting close to cumming. Steve saw your eyes roll back in your head and felt your moan vibrate around his cock “I think she’s gonna cum soon”

“Yeah I can feel her fucking squeezing my cock. You gonna cum for us baby? Cum all over my big cock? Do it.” That was all it took for your orgasm to come crashing down on you, Steve pulled you off his cock by your hair, grabbing your neck with his other hand “you look so fucking good when you cum holy shit. I was about to cum just looking at you and I really want to get a turn railing the shit out of that little pussy before I do.”

You could feel Eddie’s thrusts getting more erratic behind you “God Eddie please fill my pussy with your cum, I need it so so bad” he thrust hard and deep into you three more times before he was pushing his hips flush against yours and coming with a moan that sounded like the best song you’ve ever heard, the minute you felt his cum inside you, you could feel some of your energy returning. It wasn’t at the point where it was making you sick yet but you were cutting it close.

Eddie pulled out slowly and then sat back on his knees making a whistling noise “god damn baby, your pussy looks so good with my cum dripping out of it. Time to get you even more messy. On your back at the head of the bed, Steve, fuck her.” it wasn’t a question, it was an order. He sat down next to you at the head of the bed and pulled you into a rough kiss while you felt Steve situating himself between your legs, his cock in hand. He ran his cock through your slit that was slick with a mixture of yours and Eddie’s cum before slamming into you in one quick thrust.

He let out a stream of curses trying to regain his composure because you felt so good he really thought he was going to bust the minute he moved. “Steve, move, please, I need it” he pulled out slowly and then took a few slow thrusts in and out before he grabbed your thighs and pushed them towards your chest fucking into you hard and fast.

“Jesus Christ your pussy feels like fucking Heaven, I swear it’s like it was made for my cock” he grunted.

You laughed a bit at that in between moans “that’s because technically, it is. That’s one of the other things that my body changes-fuck” he started rubbing your clit in quick motions pushing you closer to the edge.

“You’re gonna cum aren’t you? You’re such a good girl with your little magic pussy squeezing my cock just right” the next few thrusts hit you right in your g-spot and sent you over the edge, you came so hard you felt like your soul left your body for a second. Steve wasn’t far behind you, cuming inside you deep before collapsing on top of you.

“Holy. Fuck. That was- wow” he chuckled and rolled off you to lay on the side opposite of Eddie.

“Yeah.. it really was. I feel so much better now, thank you guys” your smile was shaky and your eyes looked hazy when you looked over at both of them.

“Were you in pain before? Also did I hear you say your fucking pussy CHANGES SIZE?” Eddie said as he looked over at you, wrapping an arm around your waist. You chuckled “I wasn’t in pain yet, but I did feel pretty weak.. and yeah, it’s one of my powers it changes to perfectly fit the cock inside me. Cool right?”

“COOL!? More like.. hottest. Thing. EVER.” He kissed your cheek. “Little infernal princess” that made you blush, HARD. No one has ever called you a cute nickname before.

“That really was amazing but I am so tired I need a nap like yesterday” you looked over at Steve who was laying on his back with his arm over his eyes, you rolled towards him resting your head on his shoulder ��yeah, when I gain energy I take a bit of yours.. sorry about that. You guys should rest, I’m going to use your shower if that’s okay?” You stood up and looked down at them “you guys are fucking beautiful”

Steve yawned and Eddie rolled over and laid his head on his shoulder where yours was a moment ago “the towels are in the cabinet under the sink sweetheart, wake us after, we can all go get some lunch or something” you caressed Steve’s hair and kissed Eddie’s temple before grabbing your clothes off the ground and heading to the bathroom.

Now that the hunger for them isn’t as strong reality came crashing down on you as you washed your body in the shower. You were feeling so many mixed emotions. Satisfied definitely being one of the main ones but anxiety being a close second. You’ve never felt this way, you’ve never clicked this way with anyone ever. Never felt vulnerable enough to submit in any way, never wanted to go back for more. Never before have your physical features stayed the way you were born when you were with someone. They wanted YOU, not the ideal fantasy of what a woman should be. They saw you and they liked what they saw.. You wanted to get out of this shower and go lay in between them and feel their body heat until they woke up and have them take you all over again. That was fucking terrifying to you, how would it ever work? They already belonged to each other. You would stay the same as they grew old.. the thought of loving them just to lose them sounded awful.

So you made a decision, the decision you would make with any other conquest. You put on your clothes and shoes, and quietly walked out of the door. You did award yourself a last peak at them before, cuddled together sleeping peacefully. They were so beautiful you felt your heart crack a little as you walked toward your car. You had to get out of Hawkins, you couldn’t stay here and stay away from them. You drove toward your home, where you would pack up everything and go somewhere else to start over, under the radar like you planned. You couldn’t let anything like this happen again.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake. 

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful. 

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much. 

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps. 

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok. 

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce. 

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way. 

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

[bubblyhoney]

buncha kisses

warnings: mature language, Good music mention, slight suggestive content, lotta name calling!, basically just fluff

tags: sapnap x fem!reader (a continuation of [renamed from “a collection of moments at the beginning of your relationship”] win for me, basically, with college!au)

words: 1447

A/N: a very sweet anon requested a continuation of college!au with sappy and had some great ideas for me! i love when you guys interact and talk with me pls continue to do so! been receiving a lot of really encouraging attention from some of my favorite people (ahem, for example @strawberrymilkgeorge [among others] <3) so i just wanted to say thanks for that :)

-

It’s a sticky day in May.

It’s that kind of hot that irritates under the skin and works its way through the hair on your arms. Makes you want to either rip your skin off or sink into a pool full of ice.

May is a month that Florida doesn’t take very well; it’s either raining like it’s the Great Flood, or hot as a mosquito’s ball sack.

And to make matters worse, it’s the due date of a huge calculus project. Like— weighted heavier than the final kind of huge.

You’d gotten up three hours before your final at 9 just to cram. Your desk was littered with folders, chapter notes, and highlighters dull with use. A half-eaten bagel was off to the side, staling by the second.

That was before your AC broke. Yup. Broke. Ka-put. Just full on died—it was almost audible. Your roommate had stumbled into your room, face creased with sleep, and cursed for thirty seconds straight.

Completely understandable, actually.

But you didn’t have time to fret about the damn temperature. You just took your shirt off, kicked the box fan near your bed into the highest gear, and breathed hot anger down into your notes.

The only relief you would find would be lunch with Sapnap after your final. His apartment had air conditioning, and he was surprisingly deft with a knife and cutting board. Dude didn’t know how to figure the mechanics for emailing his film class project to you that one time last semester but could whip up a Greek salad and broiled chicken like no other. Your own little Gordon Ramsey.

He was yours now, officially. As of last month he was yours. A month full of drive-in movies, failed study dates, and an absurd amount of McFlurry’s.

And that’s what is waiting for you in Sapnap’s cup holder when you swing your way into his car with an exasperated look on your face. You just melt, eyes flicking up to his gratefully and silently taking it.

“How was the final?” He lays a hand on the gear shifter and nudges the AC up one more tick. The door closes behind you and you shuffle your legs apart, leg hair tingling in this heat.

“It was fucking brutal. I think I developed an ulcer just looking at the reference page,” you huff and he just shakes his head, laugh hot on his lips. “Absolutely not worth the studying—think I got a good grade, though.”

“Well, that’s cool. I’m proud of you.” The engine chugs to life when he shifts into drive and starts for the side street.

“Thanks.” Your cheeks blush ever so lightly but you pass it off to the heat. A moment passes. “So.” The straw makes a choking noise as it nudges at the bottom of an empty cup. Jesus, you finished that fast. “What’s on the menu for today?” Brandy’s Sunny Day lilts softly into the blasting air as you settle into a comfortable conversation, schoolwork at the back of your mind.

“Thinking of making banana chocolate chip muffins and pigging on those. Thoughts?” Flicking on his left turn signal with his left hand, the right slides onto your knee.

It’s never too hot for that.

“Sounds perfect,” you reply, voice small in a sudden bout of shyness. He double-takes with a smile, squeezing once at your leg.

Pigging is a perfect term for what you two do the second those muffins are out of the oven; it is too easy to shove three of those in a matter of seconds. Bellies full and in a sugar coma, you two lay under the whirring of his living room’s fan and stare up at the ceiling.

“This feels so good,” he mumbles, eyes half-lidded. Reaching a hand out, he pats his way to your hand and takes it, immediately squeezing it. “Wish you were kissing me right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” You taunt and hike a leg up onto his hips, swinging onto his lap and leaning to get your lips near his.

And that’s that.

The night is perfect.

Sapnap ushered you into his car at midnight and within four minutes you were on a US freeway with your head out the window. Like a dog.

A lone bird flies past in the dark air and you watch it swing into a patch of trees. You just close your eyes and breathe.

The stress literally melts. Melts into a puddle and drips out of you, falling onto the black pavement whipping past at a moment’s notice. School is a bitch already, much less an American college education. Grades and tests and professors and GPA’s and all that.

You swear Logan Lerman’s character knew what he was talking about when he said “we were infinite” in The Perks of Being A Wallflower. That’s what this feels like: infinity. Going 70 in a car driven by your hunk of a boyfriend, feeling the wind in your hair and the taste of midnight in between your teeth.

The inside of the car feels sweet when you duck your head back in, smile wide and hair crazy and a content look in your eyes. Sapnap gives you a glance before looking back at the road nonchalantly and lifting to curl and twitch two fingers at you. You instinctively move forward, eyebrows drawn together in curiosity. Three fingers grip your jaw tight, and then his mouth is on yours as the chorus of The King swells through the speakers. You only get two seconds to hum in happiness and slide a hand up his chest before he’s pulling away and has those beautiful eyes back on the road.

“You’re mean to me,” you sigh, and settle back into your seat with a ‘hmph’. He just looks smug. Bastard.

The nights Sapnap plays video games with his friends are—hm. Definitely something. You like to let him have those nights with no distractions most of the time; and you’re categorized as a distraction by the amount of times he “lags” when giving you a kiss or getting you on his lap.

Tonight, he got off work early and on the drive home called and asked if you’d come over and sit with him while he Robloxes with his friends. (“It’s like you can’t go one day without your hands on me,” you’d teased, but he couldn’t say a thing in response. You were right, needless to say.) “You can bring your paints!” he’d even added, knowing you like to watercolor as a hobby. You weren’t necessarily Etsy-worthy but it was fun and a stress-reliever.

And so here you were. Legs crossed, sketch pad in your lap, watching your adult boyfriend yell so loud that his voice cracks and breaks with every change of tone. You really had to remember to apologize to his neighbors…

“Baby—,” Sapnap starts, swinging around in his chair to hit you with a look so pouty his lip was in danger of falling off. “My dear girlfriend. My lovely woman.” His question doesn’t even need to be asked— he wants you to go get him a drink.

“You’re a misogynist. I’m calling NOW on you.” But you’re already heaving yourself off of his mattress and heading into the hallway, faux-annoyed look on your face. It melts into a smile upon seeing that little canvas mounted on the wall next to the door to his bathroom. It was a haphazard portrait of his parent’s dog Bowser that you’d drawn the few days his step-mom forced him to bring you home over spring break.

When you return to his room a few minutes later with a Bang and a couple of snacks for yourself, Sapnap has his headphones off and is swinging his feet in his chair like a child waiting for their parents to pick them up from school. You approach him, apprehensive smile on your face, and hand his drink over.

“Thank you,” he drawls, mid-yawn, and sets it down on the desk. Snaking an arm around your waist, he drags you between his legs and stuffs his face into your shirt. He inhales deeply but pulls away after a pause, hands tight on your abdomen. You press a thumb into his cheek and rub fondly at his facial hair, watching the way his eyes close calmly and relax.

“You’re so cute it causes me physical pain,” is all you get out before leaning and pressing a kiss square on his pink lips. They move against yours like they were meant to, one hand sliding up the material of your shirt and onto your warm skin.

“You smell like Subway,” he murmurs, and then the moment’s over.

Typical.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D let me know what you think in the comments!

[contemplativepancakes]

yarn rants with dandelion

3.5k of Geralt poorly hiding the fact that he knits from his family and, in general, being an idiot, read here on AO3

Geralt slams his laptop shut as his apartment door swings open, causing Eskel to quirk an eyebrow. “Whatcha doin’?” he asks. 

“Nothing,” Geralt says in a rush. 

“Uh huh.” Eskel raises his hands. “Can’t be any weirder than the porn Lambert watches.”

Geralt grunts, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.”

Eskel glances at his watch. “I figured you might want help before the game.”

“I’m ordering pizza,” Geralt says. “Actually, do you want to do it? I have cleaning I still need to do before everyone else gets here.”

Eskel’s eyebrows climb higher on his forehead, and Geralt starts to sweat as he sees Eskel's skepticism. Geralt always makes a spread on game day, telling everyone he’s not going to wait two hours for delivery while they’ll be so busy. 

“Um. Okay.” Eskel stares at him for a beat before finally pulling out his phone. “What am I ordering?” 

Geralt shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

He goes to his room, shutting the door behind him and hearing Eskel’s voice as he talks to the pizza place. Geralt looks to his bed, where a half finished baby blanket is laid out, before hastily gathering it and its attached ball of yarn up and stuffing them in a basket, piled high with various colors and weights. He throws some dirty clothes from his floor on top for good measure before reemerging from his bedroom, Eskel looking at him suspiciously from his spot on the couch. 

“Sure you don’t need help with anything?” Eskel asks. 

“No, I’m, uh, I’m good.” Geralt goes to the fridge and pulls out two beers, passing one to Eskel and keeping one for himself. 

Thankfully, Eskel doesn’t say anything about his odd behavior, just watches the pregame show with him without comment until Letho arrives, followed shortly after by Lambert and Aiden. Geralt’s relieved, because then Eskel’s attention goes to their ridiculous dancing around each other instead of scrutinizing Geralt. 

After everyone has left for the night, Geralt pulls his laptop back out, settling it on the coffee table in front of him and goes to get his blanket. He spreads it across his lap as he clicks play, the sound of a cheerful voice filling his living room. 

“Hey, guys! It’s Dandelion, back with my latest yarn haul! I’ve got some awesome ones, and ones you should avoid at all costs, so watch and see which is which!”

Geralt lets himself stare for a second before he jerks himself out of the trance and looks back down while his needles click together as he starts to knit. 

Geralt lets the feeling of the yarn between his fingers soothe him. That’s why he watches these yarn reviews, after all. He hates going to the store for yarn, but he hates wasting his money on yarn that’s scratchy and uncomfortable against his skin even more. 

Needless to say, he’s grateful to Dandelion for doing all the prep work for him, and he may or may not have developed a crush on the man.  Who watches these videos and hasn’t? Geralt reasons.

Dandelion has an infectious enthusiasm, and Geralt can’t help the soft smile from spreading across his face as he listens.

Geralt keeps knitting until his skein is almost out. When he has less of a ball and more of a tangle left, he casts his eyes around for the next one before looking despairingly back at his blanket when he doesn’t find it. 

Fuck. 

He knew he should have ordered extra; he always does this to himself, but somehow he never learns. He groans as he pulls his computer onto his lap and opens up the website he orders his yarn from. He goes into his history and clicks on the link to his blanket yarn. It’s teal, velvety, and Geralt can’t stop running his fingers over it. When the page finally loads,  out of stock  blinks back at him. 

Double fuck. 

He’s never made a blanket before, and he’s drastically underestimated how much it would take. He’s going to need at least three more skeins. Yen’s baby shower is in a month and a half, and there’s no telling when the yarn is going to come back in stock. What if they discontinued it? 

There’s nothing for it; he’s going to have to go into the store. He looks at the clock. First thing tomorrow, he decides, before it gets busy. He’ll go right when they open, before the store gets noisy and filled with women who always try to draw him into conversation for some reason. 

Geralt huffs at the thought. 

- 

Geralt tugs his scarf a little tighter against his neck before he gets out of the car and heads into the store. There’s only four cars in the parking lot, so Geralt hopes he’ll be able to get in and out quickly. 

Once he’s inside, he makes a beeline for the yarn aisle, trying to hold in his noise of dismay when he sees someone already standing there. Geralt avoids eye contact and feigns interest in the brightly colored acrylic yarns at the end of the aisle. The person is right in front of the baby yarn section, and Geralt tries not to tap his foot. 

Just when Geralt is getting ready to pretend to browse other aisles while he waits, there’s movement behind him. “Lovely scarf,” a man’s voice says. “Looks very soft.”

Geralt turns around, only for his eyes to widen as he comes face to face with Dandelion. 

He’s sure something very intelligent sounding comes out of his mouth, but he doesn’t register it. 

Whatever it was makes Dandelion laugh, sounding familiar and alarmingly close when they’re not separated by a screen. Geralt glances down at Dandelion’s basket to see it piled high with yarn. 

“Nice colors you have there,” Geralt finally manages. 

Dandelion beams. “Thank you!” 

Geralt takes a closer look and realizes they’re rainbow colors. He heaves a tiny sigh. He’s a disaster. Does Dandelion think he’s flirting with him? Not that Geralt doesn’t want to be, per se, but—it’s complicated. 

“Did you make your scarf yourself? Or did a boyfriend make it for you?” Dandelion asks. 

“I made it myself,” Geralt mumbles. He’s not sure whether he’s relieved by this line of questioning or not.

“Oh?”

“No boyfriend.”

Dandelion turns another smile on him, and Geralt tries not to melt. “What are you shopping for?” 

“Oh. Um. A blanket.”

Dandelion turns back towards the shelves with a critical eye before he plucks out a chunky bright yellow and holds it out to Geralt for his inspection. Geralt runs his fingers over it absently. “Feels nice.”

“Right? I love this brand. How big of a blanket are you making?”

“It’s for a baby.”

Dandelion’s eyebrow arches in question. 

“My friend is adopting soon; I thought this would be nice,” Geralt says, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

Dandelion shifts his basket from one hand to the other. “Oh, my. That is very nice.”

Geralt grumbles as he piles more yarn than can surely be reasonable into his own basket while Dandelion eyes the shelf thoughtfully. 

Geralt finishes putting the yarn into his basket and goes to leave the aisle, but Dandelion stops him before he takes more than three steps. 

“Better get more than you think. I get what I expect to use, and then add 25 percent more.”

That makes Geralt crack a smile. “That makes an expensive hobby even worse.”

Dandelion shrugs. “The curse of being a creative.”

Geralt picks two more bundles from the shelf. “I suppose you’re right.”

Dandelion clears his throat. “Hey, what’s your name?”

Geralt answers, and Dandelion looks him up and down. “Would you like to join our yarn circle?”

“What?” Geralt asks, throat dry.

Dandelion shakes his head glumly. “Nevermind. It’s just there are so few men…”

“I’ll join,” Geralt says, before he fully thinks out his words. 

Dandelion brightens instantly. “Excellent!”

Dandelion follows him to the register, chattering the whole way, and by the time Geralt leaves the store, Dandelion has his number saved in his phone. Geralt can’t help but notice how the women are leaving him alone today, just shooting him the occasional baleful look. It’s a nice change of pace. Maybe he should run into Dandelion more often. 

“I’ll text you, okay?” Dandelion says after he’s walked with Geralt to his car. 

“Um, yeah, okay,” Geralt replies. 

He slides into his car and watches Dandelion walk to a bright yellow slug bug. He quirks a grin. It fits him. Geralt’s just turned the key in his ignition when he realizes he didn’t even get the yarn that he came for. He sighs and shuts the engine off. 

If he reemerges from the store with the yarn for the rest of his blanket in addition to two skeins of blue that remind him of Dandelion’s eyes, well, that’d be creepy, and it’s nobody’s business but his, anyway. 

-

Geralt looks down at his phone.  yarn circle at that coffee place on Main tomorrow at ten! you in?

He saves the contact in his phone, debating with himself before typing  Dandelion 🌼.

He puffs a breath through his lips. He shouldn’t be this worked up about a text. 

See you then  , he types, and goes back to make the  s  lowercase. 

“Who are you texting?” Eskel asks from his spot on the couch, setting down his own phone.

“Who are  you  texting?” Geralt retorts weakly. 

Eskel looks at him, unimpressed. “My girlfriend, dude. Did you finally get yourself one? You know, it’s kind of weird Yen’s replacing you with a baby…”

Geralt grits his teeth. “She’s not replacing me. We just had conflicting goals for the future.”

“And what, pray tell, are these goals?”

Geralt shrugs. “Not kids. I’d be a terrible dad.”

Eskel rolls his eyes. It’s a conversation they’ve hashed out many times before. “Hmm,” Eskel says pointedly, and Geralt gives him an eye roll right back. 

“Are we watching this movie or not?”

Eskel mumbles something too low for Geralt to hear. 

-

The next morning dawns bright and early. Too early for Geralt to reasonably head out to the coffee shop by the time he’s ready, so he takes the time to work on the blanket. He’s inching closer to being done, and he’s looking forward to starting something with the yellow yarn, but he’s not quite sure what he wants to make yet. 

He wonders if he’s supposed to take his blanket to this yarn circle. Do they knit? Or just talk about it? What if they gossip the whole time? Geralt doesn’t have anything juicy to contribute; he doubts they want to hear about Eskel’s latest problems with his goat yoga business. Giving customers ringworm probably isn’t the best breakfast conversation. He takes in a deep breath, trying to stop the panic spiral. 

It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. 

-

It’s not fine.

When he walks in, Dandelion is already sitting at a table, wearing a floral button down that has entirely too many buttons undone to be decent. Geralt tries not to imagine what Dandelion’s chest hair would feel like under his finger tips, if it would be coarse and wiry or smooth and silky. 

Geralt shakes his head and grunts a greeting when Dandelion waves him over. 

“Hello, hello! Find the place okay?”

“No issues,” Geralt says, pulling out a chair and settling his bag with his knitting awkwardly on the ground. 

Dandelion glances down at his phone, and whatever he sees makes his face tighten. 

“Hmm, looks like the rest of the circle isn’t going to be able to make it. Flat tire.”

Geralt arches an eyebrow at him. “Do they...need help? I could go change it.”

Dandelion mutters something to himself before looking back up at Geralt. “I think they already have that covered.”

Geralt laughs and rubs a hand on his neck. “You know, I’m going to start thinking you were just trying to get me alone.”

Dandelion returns the nervous laugh and warms his hands on his mug. “Are you going to get some coffee?” he asks. 

“Uh, yeah.” Geralt stands up before turning back to Dandelion. “What do you recommend? I don’t come places like this very often.”

“Yeah, I bet. You seem like a coffee, black kind of person.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Geralt admits. 

Dandelion’s eyes practically bug out of his head. “What do you mean you don’t drink coffee?”

“Makes me jumpy. My hands shake.”

Dandelion lets out a sharp exhale. “Wow.”

Geralt scowls. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not! Well, maybe a little. You just better get hot chocolate, then.”

“Fine. I will.”

Dandelion’s laughter when Geralt returns to the table with a mug piled high with whipped cream is infectious.

He’s not sure what comes over him, but Geralt sticks out his tongue. 

It’s not until he gets home that he realizes he never even pulled out his knitting. 

-

Dandelion starts texting him more and more, and Geralt feels vaguely guilty when he watches Dandelion’s latest video. 

He should probably tell Dandelion he watches them, but he doesn’t want it to turn into a  thing , and he certainly doesn’t read too much into it when Dandelion mentions running into a handsome stranger on his latest yarn expedition. 

He could be talking about anyone. 

Geralt finishes his blanket for Yen, and he starts to think about what his next project should be. The yellow yarn is bright and warm; silky smooth between his fingers. He starts another blanket, because why not? He’s been wanting to practice cabling, anyway. 

He brings it to the next yarn circle Dandelion invites him to, but it doesn’t get worked on, and Dandelion doesn’t say anything about where the rest of the circle is. Geralt doesn’t ask. 

Finally, four yarn circles in where no knitting is accomplished, Dandelion gives up the ghost and asks Geralt out on a date. “That’s not what we’ve been doing?” Geralt asks with a small smile. 

Dandelion shoves him in the chest, a teasing glint in his eye before his hand lingers on Geralt’s pec for a little too long. He jerks his hand back and clears his throat. “Great. I can’t wait," Geralt says.

“I’ll choose to believe that’s not sarcastic.”

Geralt pokes at him. “It’s not.”

“Hmm.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and  hmm s right back. 

-

A few weeks later finds Geralt sifting through Netflix for a movie to watch. “Hey, Dandelion!” Geralt calls from the couch, tugging a blanket up to his chin. 

Dandelion freezes from his spot just outside the living room with a bowl of popcorn in hand. 

“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt says.

“What did you just say?”

“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt repeats, more slowly this time. 

“No, no, before that.”

Geralt thinks. “Your...name?”

Dandelion blinks at him. “My name is Jaskier.”

Now Geralt is the one who’s confused. “No, it’s not?”

“Geralt, I think I know my own name.” Dandelion’s face pinches. “Wait. You watch my videos?”

Geralt steels himself for the conversation. He had been wondering if he'd just be able to take the fact that he watches them to his grave. “Yes?”

“And you didn’t think to mention this?”

“It seemed...weird," Geralt says haltingly.

Geralt’s still reeling from the revelation. He’s the world’s worst boyfriend; Dandelion has to be playing a cruel prank on him. 

“And it didn’t seem weird to you that you were watching me literally sing your praises last week?”

“I thought it was kind of sweet.”

Dand—Jaskier drags a hand down his face. “I can’t believe this.”

“How was I supposed to know that wasn’t your actual name?”

“Geralt, we have been together for a month. How do you not know my  name ?”

“It’s never come up!” Geralt says defensively. “You���re the one who never even introduced yourself. Talk about bad manners.”

Jaskier splutters, and Geralt can’t help but quirk a grin at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

Jaskier finally rallies. “We’re going to have a talk about online boundaries, but—”

“But what?”

“You’re so god damned stupid,” Jaskier says, before dragging Geralt into a kiss. 

Geralt goes without complaint. 

-

While Geralt ponders the new nature of their relationship, he finally finds a use for the blue yarn he’s been hoarding. The whole time he’s knitting the hat, he thinks of Jaskier. It’s exactly the right shade of his eyes, but Geralt doesn’t let himself contemplate it too hard. 

When he’s finished, he finds an index card and scrawls a message. He wraps up the whole thing and gives it to Jaskier the next time he sees him. 

Jaskier tears the package open and rubs the yarn between his fingers in delight. “You made this for me? No one’s ever knitted something for me before.”

“I’m glad I could remedy that,” Geralt says gruffly, shifting uncomfortably at the adoring look Jaskier is giving him. 

Jaskier notices the card and reads it before bursting into laughter. 

Sorry I didn’t know your name <3

“You’re forgiven.”

On to the next order of business, then. Geralt clears his throat. “Yen’s baby shower is next week.”

Jaskier makes a noise of polite interest, not looking up from where he’s examining the stitches in the hat. Geralt really hopes he doesn’t notice where he dropped one. 

Geralt waits for a few more seconds and sighs. Jaskier is really going to make him ask. “I was wondering if you would want to go with me.”

Jaskier tilts his head up and gives Geralt a bright smile. “Of course I would!” He pauses to think for a moment. “Are you...out to them?”

“Yes,” Geralt grumbles. “It turns out my hiding spot for my play girls when I was 16 wasn’t as clever as I thought.”

Jaskier snorts. “It never is, is it?”

-

In the days leading up to the shower, Jaskier’s anxiety starts to show, but Geralt politely doesn’t comment. They walk up to the party arm in arm, Geralt carrying both of their gift bags. Geralt had told him he didn’t need to get anything, but he had anyway, insisting that he had just happened to stumble across  the cutest onesie, Geralt! What a coincidence!

Geralt can’t help but smile as he looks over at Jaskier. Jaskier’s thumb is compulsively stroking over a spot on Geralt’s hand, and he’s even wearing the hat Geralt knitted him. Geralt’s chest feels tighter than normal. 

“Oh, so this is why you haven’t been such a grump lately?” Triss asks once they walk through the door, taking their gift bags to set on a side table. 

“I’m never grumpy,” Geralt says, and Jaskier has the audacity to laugh, so Geralt elbows him in the side. 

Triss laughs at that, too, before she goes off to find Yennefer and drags her back to them. “Geralt!” she exclaims, rubbing a hand up his arm. “I’m glad you could drag yourself away from your very important activities that you refuse to tell anyone about.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and looks over to see Jaskier staring at him curiously. 

“Ah, and this must be Dandelion!” Yen says, turning to Jaskier. 

“Eskel wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that!” Geralt hisses, but Yen just gives him a delighted smile. 

Geralt sighs as she moves on to terrorize her next guest. 

“Your friends are pretty brutal, Geralt,” Jaskier says lightly. 

“You have no idea.” 

Geralt leads Jaskier over to where Eskel and Lambert are sitting by the food table and attempts to make small talk. 

Almost immediately, Lambert asks, “What’d you get her?” 

Eskel and Geralt share an exasperated look. “Why so competitive, Lamb? Over compensating?”

Lambert scowls. “I was just curious. You’re not going to be able to top what I got her, anyway. Best uncle ever.”

“You’re not going to be an uncle,” Eskel says. 

Lambert is unconcerned. “Best uncle ever.”

Geralt crosses his arms and leans into Jaskier, trying to block out Eskel and Lambert’s bickering. 

“I hate things like this,” Geralt mutters. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Geralt. You being an unbearable softie is our little secret. I won’t breathe a word.”

Geralt grumbles. “That’s not why.” He pauses, then, “Why do I put up with you?”

“I can think of a few reasons,” Jaskier says, turning his head to press a kiss against Geralt’s temple. 

Geralt flushes at the touch and looks around, but no one is staring at them like anything out of the ordinary happened. Geralt relaxes back against him. 

He’s almost dozing off by the time Yen gets to his gift, and he only realizes it by Jaskier digging a bony elbow into his stomach. He pinches Jaskier in retribution. 

Yen opens the gift carefully, making the appropriate polite noises as she does so. 

“Isn’t it soft?” Jaskier asks as she strokes her fingers over the blanket. “Geralt chose some great yarn.”

Geralt whips his neck around to look at Jaskier so quickly he thinks he heard something pop.

“What?” 

“The yarn! It’s so nice and such a lovely color, don’t you think? Geralt did a wonderful job.”

“Geralt, you made this?” Yennefer asks incredulously, and great, her voice cracks. 

Geralt sighs and tries to accept his fate of all the merciless jokes that are going to be made in his defense. “Yes?”

“And you didn’t think to tell me this?”

“When the fuck did you learn how to do that?” Lambert asks. 

Geralt shrugs defensively. “I’ve been knitting for years.”

Everyone’s eyes are drawn to the blue cap perched on top of Jaskier’s head, and teasing grins spread over their faces. 

Geralt groans. He’s never going to hear the end of this.

As Jaskier takes his hand in his and squeezes, he thinks maybe that’s okay. 

[the-huntress]

Little Moth - Chapter 1 - The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning

[Hi guys, welcome to my fanfiction. This is a Resident Evil inspired fanfiction, I wanted to incorporate a number of my favourite characters, and especially our beloved Magnet Daddy. Slow burn, soft smut impending, beyond that who knows… But to be safe I will say that this is for 18+ years of age only. Let me know if you’d liked to be on a tag list for future chapters. Masterlist is pinned. Thank you to everyone that has read so far. <3]

Masterlist

Trigger Warnings: Mention of menstruation, swearing.

Y/N Protagonist, female. Reader X Karl Heisenberg [18+]

Summary:

Your lifelong friend, Leon Kennedy, has mysteriously gone missing two years after the events of Racoon City. You make a discovery that could lead to his whereabouts; dare you enter the Village?

[Photos are my own] You weren’t sure exactly what you were looking at for a moment, arching your back forwards over the desk in the dimly lit room, the glare from the laptop the only source of light. Several windows had been left open on the screen, and despite the turmoil that Leon’s apartment had been left in, this was what had really grabbed your attention.

The most notable of which was a photo, the resolution was grainy, a scan from a black and white film photo, it looked almost like a foetus, but you couldn’t be sure. Was somebody pregnant? It was almost akin to the sort of photograph that expecting parents would show at a baby shower, but this was… different. You had a feeling of impending doom just by looking at this thing.

Next, another very grainy photo of a town, it almost looked like some of the places from back home in England; a church steeple, a castle or maybe a mansion in the distance? A quaint looking village in the snow. And lastly, a very cryptic email;

                                               10/10/2000

Leon,

Know not what I have done, but what I believe must be done now.

Half of the results of good intentions are evil; half of the results of an evil intention are good.

You have the information that you need, please make haste.

A friend.

Well, that’s ambiguous as fuck. You thought to yourself, pushing the chair back and pulling the lighter from the little band on the side of your cap. You reached to your shoulder and cursed. That’s right, you’d given up, “for health reasons”. Putting the lighter back you reached instead for your camera, a notepad and a pen. You’d been tempted to just take the laptop and the scattered papers, but after several years in the police you knew it was beneficial to leave things as they were. Your eyes flitted from paper to paper, taking notes of numbers, flights, times, place names, anything that you could until you’d filled a couple of pages. One page for practical info, and one page, now that you looked at it almost sounded like a fairy tale;

A village, four kings, four lords, and a mysterious ‘Mother Miranda’. You bit the end of the pen and pondered. It was like nothing you’d ever heard of before, what had he got himself into…

Several days ago you had received a text from the man himself;

‘Y/N I am going to be out of

town for a while, something has

come up. Please don’t worry,

will explain soon. Leon. X

P.S. I’ve left Timesplitters in

your mail box, play you again

when I get back! :] ’

And now here you were. You scoffed knowing he’d have had to pay double to send that one, but he was mad to think that you wouldn’t worry, he was like a brother to you, hell, the only family that you had. After a childhood growing up in rural England you had moved to the states with your father and stepmother when you were in those vulnerable years of your teens during the early 90s, but were lucky enough to have met Leon in school. The two of you had become best friends quickly, and even graduated from the same police academy. It was Leon that saved your butt two years ago when all hell broke loose in Racoon City, him and Claire.

You shifted on the collapsible chair in front of the usually neatly tidied desk which was now strewn with various papers and articles. Your thoughts of Claire continued, and you pulled out your Nokia, opened a message and then faltered. It was late. Later than late you realised, seeing the time; 02:08 AM. What am I doing? You didn’t want to wake her, so you put the phone back into the pocket on your belt.

You swept a strand of your hair behind your ear, the outgrown bangs jumping back in the way and you blew at them irritated. You heard a grumble and moaned, looking down at your stomach. Padding across the shiny, tiled floor you left the desk and headed to the kitchen, opening the fridge where you knew there would be left-over pizza. Sure, it was from over a week ago when you were last here hanging out, but hey, it’s pizza, right?

‘Ugh dude, always with the anchovies, why?’ you mumbled, flinging a small fish into the bin and mentally backhanding the back of Leon’s head. Of course, it was his side of the pizza that was left over, probably trying to stay in shape in case he bumped into ‘Ada’ again. You weren’t keen, but then, you didn’t trust her. You looked at your phone again, left on the desk besides the laptop, Leon would be much better off with Claire, but sadly you felt perhaps that ship had set sail long ago.

You went to sit yourself back down at the desk. CRUNCH “Shit!” Your eyes darted to your right knee. “Fuck… you’re not giving me a break are you.” Letting out a sigh you closed your eyes for a moment. Since you were a child your knee had given you problems. A few dislocations, hospital visits, insteps, braces and physiotherapy. You’d had to grit your teeth hard through every physical training session during academy, but you’d made it. Fortunately for you it wasn’t something that many people would be able to notice or spot. You could run for miles with no problem; it was the recovery time in the days that followed that was tough. You knew it was getting worse, and had been reading about how much longer you might have before you’d need a full replacement, but you knew that it could jeopardise your job, you knew you’d likely not get put on the jobs that you wanted, and the thought of being put into the office answering calls made your heart sink.

And then you spotted it, the corner of another window was sticking out from under the others, exposing the corner of a third photograph. Instantly recognising the symbol you felt as though you were falling.

“What…”

Dragging the window and clicking it to full screen you could see this photograph clearly; some kind of mural, was it in stone? It looked as though there were four crests, family crests maybe. And at the centre; “Umbrella.” You breathed. You stared at it for several minutes and quickly took a photo of the screen on your camera, no point trying to get that old thing to work, you thought, looking at the printer at the other end of the desk. You couldn’t help but smirk, memories of Leon trying to print page after page of game walk throughs, whilst trying to find all the secrets in your favourite action/ adventure game, and laughing your head off at him, mouthful of noodles spilling back out into the carton as a hundred pages shot out at him, flying all over the room with cheat codes for a scantily dressed version of the playable character.

You looked at the clock again, time to go. If you were going to do this, you needed sleep and to get going as soon as you could the next day. It might drain your bank account, but it would be worth it. You didn’t have a good feeling about any of this, and more often than not, your gut instincts were right. Grabbing your R.P.D jacket at the door, you took one last glance at the room. It really did look like a whirlwind had hit it, not like Leon when he was in a better mental state at all. You knew that when he wasn’t his best he’d reach a for a drink and then some, but you could see that nothing was broken, and it was mostly clothes scattered, some bits of equipment and where he’d clearly got the luggage bag down from on top of the wardrobe. Nothing to worry about in regard to kidnap or a break in at least; as if that was enough to stop you from worrying about whatever lay ahead in this ‘Village’.

It started to rain just as you got into your apartment building, and you smiled. You’d always liked the rain. Stopping to quickly check your pigeon-hole for mail and seeing nothing you felt something press up against you calf, rubbing itself against the tops of your boots. You looked down and grinned, scooping up a slender, black cat in one hand and kissing the top of her head. “I’m going to miss you Boo, keep an eye on my mail for me while I’m gone, you know how crammed that thing gets.” You winked at her as you set her back down outside Mrs. Little’s door and fished a sandwich bag full of the leftover pizza anchovies out of your R.P.D. bag. “You didn’t think I’d forget you, did you?” Leaving Boo hastily munching into her treats you jogged up the stairs, your knee twinged, but it wasn’t too bad. It just had its moments.

Your apartment was pretty standard for this part of the city; both you and Leon had left Racoon city some time ago, though it wasn’t far from here. It had been destroyed and bordered off and that was all there was too it. You had to tell it to yourself that way to cope. Leon’s apartment was slightly swankier, but then again, he did like his gadgets and liked to keep things tidy, when his thoughts weren’t somewhere else. You on the other hand were happy to know that while everything had its place, sometimes that place would be on the floor… next to the thingy and nestled safely under a cereal box; and that was okay! You picked up the thingy, and looked at it fondly, before folding it up and putting it away with the others.

Stretching and yawning you looked around you, making a mental note of what needed to be done; pack, shower, sleep. You’d get the tickets the next day, and some money too, you’d have to stop off at the currency exchange. What currency did they even use there? Equipment, keep it simple; knives, pistol, rounds, lighter, fluid, compass, torch, camera, medi-kit. A couple of spare pairs of clothes, and you had your light armour that also fit into the case. You knew the contents would raise suspicion, but you had your badge, at the end of the day another cop had gone missing, and your team knew too.

You whipped off the remainder of your uniform and jumped in the shower, the bathroom filling up with steam and bubbles quickly and you sang along to a few songs on the radio. Wiping the mirror to see yourself more clearly you felt all your insecurities flood to you at once, as well as seeing yourself for the natural beauty that you were. You pursed your lips, staring into your own eyes and promised you’d find him safe and bring him back. He’d yell at you for going in the first place, but you knew this wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right. Traipsing out from the bathroom, you felt the cool air attack your flushed skin. You liked it, you were always a window open kind of person, no matter the weather, the fresh air just soothed you. Of course, that meant the odd moth now and again, like now as you heard the tiny body plummet time and time again against the spherical glass shade of the dim lamp besides your bed. Snuggling up into the loose blankets you smiled at the little creature and pulled the cord on the lamp, smiling again as you felt the moth settle on the side of your head.

After that you actually fell to sleep very quickly. It had been a long day after all; a 6AM start, patrol, arresting some juvies for petty crimes, followed by yet another zombie scare, (false alarm thank God), before filing up all the paper work and heading to Leon’s. Sleep fell like a veil of cool clouds, taking you in and raising you up into the inky blue skies of the night. The next thing you knew, you were butt naked in a dark green forest, dew drops shining on moss like a trillion tiny emeralds. Mist hung thick in the air, and thousands of tiny moths flew up from the ground? No. From you. You were raising your arms up to the skies, the moss covered forest floor moist under your bare feet and between your toes. Behind you the silhouette of a deer… antlers, but much, much taller. In front of you a pair of cold silver-gold eyes in the dark. You felt drawn, ever so drawn, taking one step forward, and then another, your arms coming down now, hands outstretched in caring caress, your heart swelled, your lips bloomed, taking in a short breath, and then; blood. Gushes of it, soaking into the moss, reddening Earth’s green carpet, and dripping down the trunks of the trees, the moths falling from the air around you, their wings sticking and stopping in the thick, red mess.

“Shit!” You fell back down onto your bed, several items around you also crashing down. Hand to your head, you looked wildly about. It happened again. Whatever had fallen this time had been heavy. You turned to see half the cutlery that had been lying on the kitchen tops now on the floor, and the knives and pistol that you’d placed earlier on top of the luggage bag were now in the middle of the floor. A sudden feeling of loneliness washed over you. The same dream, but longer, and this time with blood. “Shit” again, you put a hand to your pants, pulled the covers back and saw red. “Well, that’s one more thing I need to bring with me.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes, and throwing yourself back onto the bed.

Song Suggestion: ‘The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning’ by The Smashing Pumpkins

[notnctu]

cupid’s arrow - h.rj | 7 days

━ sweet greetings from the 7 days fluff series 

genre ❥ slight angst, fluff !!  details ❥ college!au, friends to lovers!au, genderneutral!reader ━ where renjun makes a bet to get you to fall in love with him.  warnings ❥ explicit language, light banter word count ❥ 7.1k  synopsis ❥ The silly boy has no idea what he’s gotten himself into when he makes a bet with his arrogant friend to get you to fall in love with him. Renjun never intends to confess, mainly because his past unrequited loves have demolished his confidence. So a low stakes gamble causes him a great deal of stress and pride, wishing that it was as easy as striking you with Cupid’s Arrow. While he wants your feelings to develop organically, he actually doesn’t know what he’d do if you did end up liking him back. Because to him, you have always been someone unattainable and out of his reach  taglist ❥ @yourmagnanimousholiness​ ; @lovelycharm05​ ; @watermelonxes​ ; @jaehyunsjasmine​ ; @mjlkau​​ <3

a/n ❥ this is author doie ❀!! uhh this came out a little more angsty than i had planned it to be.. anyways its been a long time coming and we’re still working on the requests hehehe uhh keep an eye out for some blog updates bc we are starting school soon :) thanks for sticking with us so far! lots of love for everyone<3

Huang Renjun catches a glimpse of your enchanting figure across the lecture hall and how you effortlessly slide into your usual seat near the front. The tap against the tiny turnout table with your pen, ruffling your hair to only have it fall back in place beautifully, and aura alone suffocates him.

In a three hundred person lecture, all he sees is you. The only person in the room who has his undivided attention and while it might be entirely infatuation by your attractiveness, the mutual friends you two share describe you having a heart of gold.

A heart that is impenetrable. Strong, sturdy, shining metal that no one has been able to get through, but Renjun thinks that it’s because you can tell someone is undeserving. Keen and observant eyes, it’s a good thing that his stares don’t linger for long.

As he walks down the descending steps to sit in the row behind you, he remembers a very drunk night over the past weekend and an idiotic bet that has him punching himself. He wishes that he never agreed, but the liquid pride in him could not bite his tongue.

“(Y/N)?” His friend scorns and Renjun slaps his forehead at the slip of your name. Truthfully, the alcohol is messing with his head and he’s saying things that are no longer in his control. But how could he have possibly let the one secret he holds to himself out into the small crowd.

He mumbles profanities underneath his breath, trying to limit light from hurting his blurry vision, and rubbing his throbbing temples. “Yes, (Y/N).” There is no confidence in his voice at the whisper of your name.

“Dude, (Y/N) is way out of your league.” The headache just doesn’t have an end. He knows this; there is no way you’d ever bat an eyelash at him first. Renjun just likes things that are impossible to him, a poor habit of his.

“I bet I could get (Y/N) to get with me first before you ever can.” Then, Renjun’s eyes shoot open wide and the view of the arrogance laughing in the dimness slowly boils his blood.

Renjun may seem like the weaker link to pick on, but he is not one to give up a fight. While his friend has an advantage, the last thing Renjun would want is for you to fall for a horrendous two faced personality.

He’ll charm your pants off and when he gets what he wants: the victory and your vulnerability, he’ll hurt you. Would you be able to see past his fake genuineness or actually fall for the person he plays so well? Renjun can’t let anyone hurt you if he can prevent it.

“I bet that I can get (Y/N) to fall in love with me.” Renjun stumbles to stand up proudly, making himself bolder and more intimidating. Nevertheless, the drowsiness intoxicates him and he can barely keep his line of vision focused.

He sees the disgusting smirk on his friend’s face and a hand extends out for Renjun to shake. “Okay. Let’s bet on it. If you can’t get (Y/N) to fall in love with you, they’ll be mine and you can’t speak to them ever again.”

“Nice use of claiming someone who barely knows you exist.” The alcohol didn’t take away Renjun’s sharp sarcasm and the constant rolling of his eyes.

Renjun truly has no confidence at the game he decided to engage in, his only motive is to protect you from a bad guy. He wouldn’t even know how to handle the potential chance that you could like him back, did you have the ability to do so?

He never had the intention to confess to you, his heart has been broken all too much already by unrequited loves from his past. And if he had to be honest with himself, his admiration for you has become so strong that even he’s afraid to be someone to taint it.

What are the odds that the entire row behind you is already filled? Renjun’s throat closes when he sees the empty seat right next to you and the professor starting up his presentation. Other students push past him to hurry into empty seats before lecture begins, and his own feet pick him up toward you.

Like a magnetic pull, you attract him with an inexplicable force so naturally. Clearing his throat, he swallows the anxiousness that blocks him from speaking. 

“Is this seat taken?”

This is it. This is the first of many looks you two will share, and Renjun’s heart pounds at his chest to wait for your eyes to meet his own for more than a second.

As if the room falls silent and everything is in slow motion, Renjun captures the very image when you blink up at him with beautiful dazzling gentleness and the utter sugar of your lips curling upwards. And he’s stunned, hoping it doesn’t show on his face.

“No.” It’s a simple reply and nothing worth jumping out of joy about, but he tries so hard to hold back the growing smile of your acknowledgement. You are being polite, but something inside of him feels giddy and like static running through his veins.

“Thanks.” Dropping his bag, he enters the seat carefully and sits with his hands folded together on the tiny table.

You examine the attentive boy, as his focus is trained on the lecture slides and the unprepared professor messing with his mic. Chuckling, “you don’t take notes?”

Renjun is surprised at your sudden interaction, completely blindsided by your friendliness. He wasn’t sure how well that would have worked, but your curiosity speaks for you. “I actually forgot my laptop today.” The heavy device sits in his bag at his feet, but he doesn’t dare take it out after the lie.

The soft ‘oh’ that falls from your mouth is too cute and Renjun clears his throat to bring him back from his daydreams of you. Looking apologetic, he shrugs and pretends to gear his attention back to the professor, who finally starts the long awaited class.

“I can send you my notes for the day, if you’d like.” The kindness in your voice does not go unnoticed, in fact, it causes Renjun to hold onto it for a little longer to fuel his undying crush for you.

“I’d love that—” Perhaps he shouldn’t have used the word love for the strictly friendly gesture. “—you’re a lifesaver. Uh, how should I refer to you as?” Playing dumb is his only way to get to you, for now.

“(Y/N). And you?” You hand your phone toward him with social media popped up to input his user handle.

Renjun introduces himself as his sweaty fingers type, and he wonders if he should have polished up any photos that may have you steering away from him. However when he returns your device, the smile that lights up your face allows him to breathe easily.

“I knew you sounded familiar. You’re friends with Jaemin, right?” Your whisper grows soft as you multitask to make conversation and jot down a few important bullet points from the slides. Renjun tries hard to dissect the information as well, but the boring tone of his professor is nothing compared to his crush finally having conversation with him.

“We’re housemates along with two other people.” His body is able to relax now that he’s broken the wall of introductions. You carry yourself to be more intimidating than you actually are.

When he peeks back over at your concentrated expression, your lip is hidden by your top row of teeth and your quick eyes dart between the monitor and your page. How are you so good at literally everything?

“A small world.” He picks up your every word, “well Renjun, since this class has basically ruined my life, would it be too much to ask if you’re down to study with me?” And despite the fluorescent lights being absolutely dull, they still dust your eyes with an enticing glitter.

He must have been staring for too long because you start your sentence of doubt, but Renjun stammers over his response. The professor isn’t quite happy with the small overlap of chatter and shoots a glare at the two of you.

That’s definitely not a good way to start, but it’s memorable. Renjun motions for your pen, and scribbles in his own font the answer to your offer:

I’d love that :)

Then, his heart soars back into the clouds once again at the grin that settles and your written response:  

Me too <3

How does one get someone to fall for them? If Renjun knew, he wouldn’t still be single and infatuated with someone too good for him. He wishes that it’s as simple as the myths make it out to be, where all Cupid had to do was draw his bow and launch a loving arrow that pierces through the heart — an instant love.

But playing Cupid himself is harder than anticipated. He has no handy tools to assist him with his goals. He just has himself, lacks luster and is invisible. Can he be more painfully boring?

And he looks at you with literal hearts in his eyes. An excitement that awaits him, the true meaning of a head turner. That is you. And all he can offer is his mere presence.

“So how did you and Jaemin meet?” Looking up from your blinding laptop screen, Renjun feels the light tap underneath the table from your foot. He chuckles at the subtly adorable affection, and your own way of showing it.

This has to be the third round of study sessions you two shared, and bit by bit, he falls more and more for you despite it needing to be the other way around. The captivating get-to-know you conversation of favorites all down to your aspirations and goals.

The intelligence of you, your wisdom, your perspective. While he did not have this insight before, knowing it now only makes you more alluring. He can’t believe you’re even sitting with him in his shared living room, just the two of you.

“We met at orientation. He’s persistent.” Renjun laughs lightly and you smile in return, nodding along with his statement.

“Wish I met you guys at orientation. I was never the one to reach out to people first until college forced me out of my shell.” He hopes his ears didn’t deceive him, but Renjun had to do a double take: you said you guys, which includes him, right? You wish you had met him earlier?

But the latter shocks him a bit. If he recalls your first meeting, you were the one curious enough to continue speaking to him. “I would have never guessed.”

“Really?” There is a notable light in your eyes as you tilt your head. “I don’t seem shy?”

“Not at all…” He has to stop himself from going on an incredible tangent about how greatly outspoken you are, it gives away too much on how observant he’s been.  

“I’m good at hiding it then.” You examine the soft shade of pink on the tips of his ears and his averting shy gazes. “What are you good at hiding?”

Your question leaves him speechless and gripping at any ends of answers. There are a number of ways he can go about it, but the truth is not one of them.

What is he good at hiding? His unconditional affection for you. He’s good at concealing every heavy heart beat at your smallest actions. He’s good at keeping a regretful secret bet.

But as those options pop into his head, he doesn’t want to say any of them. So, he opts for a white lie instead and hopes that the hesitation doesn’t sell him out for being a nervous wreck.

“I’m good at hiding what I fear.” You blink at him, clearly intrigued to want to know more.

“You do seem pretty fearless, Huang Renjun.” There is a brief exchange of eye contact and Renjun swears that his pounding heart can be heard in the silence. A smirk on your lips as you return to your work, he’s warm inside from the usage of his full name. And you don’t even realize the effect you have over him.

“So, you and (Y/N) are close. How did that start?” Jaemin jumps onto Renjun’s neatly made bed. The covers are now ruffled and tossed from the impact.

Jaemin isn’t home very often, but in the rare times he has been, it’s always during the study sessions with you. The first time you came over, Jaemin tried not to talk up a storm from seeing a familiar face. He respects Renjun’s relationships, so he tried his best to keep from prying at the boy.

“You finally want to know?” Renjun scoffs lightheartedly, punching his housemate lightly on the shoulder as he swivels around in his chair. With an excited wide smile, Jaemin tugs at his friend’s arm as an endearing sign of persistence. “Okay, okay. We have the same class.”

“(Y/N) really approached you in a three hundred student lecture?” A tone of disbelief settles in Jaemin’s rhetorical question. He cocks an eyebrow, waiting for Renjun to tell some truth.

“Not exactly. I sat next to them and a conversation just happened.” Renjun shrugs as if it’s nothing big, as if it hadn’t been for your curiosity that started this blossoming relationship.

“Spare me the details.” Jaemin sits up to hold Renjun by his shoulders. The pressure feels oddly crushing, like a whole weight dropping on him. Jaemin stares him dead in the eyes. “What are your motives, Huang Renjun?”

His mouth hangs slightly open from the question. “I can’t be friends with (Y/N)?” Almost defensively, Renjun furrows his eyebrows at his friend, but he can tell Jaemin has caught onto his lie.

“I heard that you made a bet with a certain shithead.” Jaemin rolls his eyes at remembering their horrible mutual, a crime to even consider him as a friend. He drops his heavy hands from Renjun’s shoulders and falls back onto the mattress.  

The alarming expression of grave danger, Renjun is screwed. He gulps the gathered saliva in the back of his mouth, searching for a plausible explanation. “I was drunk.” He slaps his forehead at the stupid reasoning as Jaemin shoots upright to begin scolding him.

“Let me explain,” Renjun covers his mouth to halt Jaemin’s excessive nagging. “I like (Y/N), that’s how the bet even came alive. I slipped up and then he was saying all this stuff about (Y/N) being out of my league.”

“Which is true.” Jaemin adds, quite muffled but doesn’t slip past Renjun.

Renjun glares and thanks him sarcastically. “I made the bet to protect (Y/N) from him. He was provoking me by saying that he can get (Y/N) first and since I was heavily intoxicated, I didn’t think before I spoke.”

Jaemin holds Renjun warmly, seeing that his friend needed a hug from the saddened memory. It’s all too obvious how regretful Renjun feels. “So I’m trying my best at carrying the bet because there’s too much at stake.”

A chill runs down his spine remembering the consequences. He just can’t fail. Jaemin pulls away and lightly pats Renjun’s hair. “Cupid has made you into a fool for your crush.”

“He’s made me into a bigger one for thinking I could get my crush to like me back.” Renjun sighs in defeat and groans loudly. Why does this frustrate him so much? Perhaps it’s the lack of ability to actually get someone to like him back.

Renjun has been single for his entire life, not by choice. He’s done the movie cliches of a confession: a bouquet of roses, a poster, a night under the stars. And not one has ever accepted his feelings. He doesn’t blame any of them since he still struggles with finding things to love about himself. What is there to love about him? He can’t seem to find any redeeming qualities worth mentioning.

But you. You, alone, is simply worth an honorable mention. And now that it’s been well over a month of your friendship, he can confirm that you’re everything he’s ever wanted and more.

“Why don’t you start by being (Y/N)’s friend first? Love doesn’t just happen in an instant, no offense to Cupid or anything. I mean.. isn’t it all just a myth anyways?” Jaemin picks Renjun’s falling chin and he can see the glossy eyes of sadness. They swim with frustration and guilt.

Like an epiphany, Jaemin gave Renjun a starting place. For weeks, Renjun racked his brain for an easy solution out of it all. In reality, he didn’t need any wicked form of magic for foul play. He just wants to be by your side for as long as you allow. And a part of him is scared for you to like him back.

You’ve always been too out of his reach. Standing on a pedestal, you’re something unattainable. It’s lucky that you even bat an eyelash at him. He’s admired you all too much, Renjun won’t actually know what to do if you ever did like him back.

This all stems from his inner insecurities, like a recurring thought: what is there to like about him? Or is he even good enough for you?

If someone had warned him that love could become this confusing, he would’ve sacrificed his heart for something less complicated. To feel. To love. Renjun wishes he can remove the love bow that pierced through his chest.

On a random Friday night, Renjun’s phone rings with an unexpected caller ID. He pauses the song he’s been listening to for the past hour to pick up.

“Renjun! I’m sad and drunk right now.” Your voice is incredibly slurred and he can barely hear you with the loud background noise. “Can you come pick me up?”

“Are you over on Third Ave. again?” He despises that place. A house on the corner of Third Avenue right off the interstate from campus that throws weekly parties. These parties are overcrowded with creeps and cheap booze. Unfortunately, you’re favorite place to run away to.

This isn’t his first time coming to get you. Over the past few months of your established friendship, you’ve sent him numerous amounts of drunk texts calling for him. This is the first time you actually called, preluding to a really rough night you’ve been having.

You sigh into the receiver, “you remembered.” like you’re on the verge of tears, he can hear the quiver in your tiny voice.

“I have your location, idiot.” Renjun smiles at your silly drunk reactions, finding you more enduring from the innocence. “I’ll be there in a blink.”

“Okay, I’ll close my eyes so I can open them to you.” You giggle before hanging up and Renjun can’t keep the widest grin off of his face. He’s rushing out his door, not wanting to wait another second to see you.

One thing Renjun realized after finally growing close enough to you is that through all his infatuation, you’re still a human. While he thinks of you in a sparkling cascading glitter waterfall, you’re made of the same softness that Renjun has. You’re not perfect and he needed to stop idolizing you as if you’re some shiny trophy.

No, he’s learned that he needed to love you for who you truly are. And the moment he broke down your layers, the glass tears that fell from your cheeks were real. The pain through your confident façade, Renjun needed to love you at your lowest.

He saw you for you, not the attractive person from his lecture he drooled months over. You are the exact reality that movies are afraid to portray. You’re courageous, chic, charming. But you’re also shy, soft spoken, and silly. You’re like waking up during dawn and marveling in the silence of a sleeping society. You’re also like smiles on a sunny day and living in the moment.

Renjun is lovestruck, wildly in love with all that you are. The only thing that brings down his spirits is the lingering bet he made several months ago and he hates how it’s always gnawing at him. It’s like an echo, bouncing off the walls of his mind. He can’t shake it off. Most of the time, he tries to focus the moment in front of him, but it has him tossing and turning in the middle of the night.

Without much surprise, you stand in front of the overflowing party house with eyes cutely squeezed shut. A friend by your side to wait with you. “Open your eyes.” Renjun yells as windows roll down and he double parks the car.

Your eyes gleam in the darkness and bidding your friend a quick goodbye, you jump into the familiar vehicle and embrace your good friend with a longing hug. Renjun chuckles at your adorable actions, patting your shoulder lightly. Despite the cheerful welcome, the mood immediately shifts when he hears your tiny sniffs and feels the tears on his shirt.

“C’mon, your favorite ice cream flavor is waiting for you at my place.” As he whispers positive affirmations, you can only cry harder into his chest. “You’re not feeling too good tonight, are you?”

It’s way too obvious of a question to ask, he knows. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to say and comforting is not his strongest skill without it turning it into a life lesson. He knows what you need, just someone to acknowledge how you’re feeling and to listen.

“I’m feeling the worst tonight. I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe later?” You pull away from his arms, even if he isn’t ready to let you go. He helps buckle your seatbelt and wipe any remaining wetness on your cheeks.

Your hand briefly touches Renjun’s which causes the boy to freeze at the sudden action. Your hazy smile is unclear, but you lean into him before he can process all the randomness. A kiss on his cheek, the most delicate feeling of lips on skin.

Renjun explodes inside, like hazardous fireworks on a cloudy night. He wants to enjoy it, but his circumstances make it difficult for him to. “Thanks for coming to get me.” Your body slumps back onto the seat, a pout on your lower lip. Renjun shifts awkwardly in his seat, buckling his seatbelt to begin the ride home. He can’t find the words to say.

You’re being too casual about what had just happened, as if you’re ignoring it all. Or you simply have no control over anything that you’re doing. “Let me tell you a secret, Injunie.” The sugarcoated nickname. You’re definitely too drunk at the moment, and whatever you do now will be long forgotten the next morning.

Renjun still doesn’t say anything, relishing in the kiss on the cheek just seconds ago. His fingers lightly touch his face, grazing upon the very part your lips came in contact with. He’s truly through the moon and— “I used to have the biggest crush on Jaemin.” Renjun abruptly steps on the brakes, whipping the both of you in your seats.

His heart is falling, it’s plummeting and he can’t do anything to save it. “I really didn’t expect such a surprised reaction.”

Renjun clears his throat. “I’m just caught off guard.” Not a lie, he really wasn’t expecting a confession and his heart to break right at this moment. “Why Jaemin?”

He knows why Jaemin. He’s a social butterfly with no caution to the wind and a heart made of pure kindness. A welcoming friendly figure that won’t hesitate to feed into someone’s need for words of affirmation. Not to mention, Jaemin has a good few inches above him and looks of a poster kpop idol. Of course, you liked Jaemin.

“He has such a good heart. I guess I just like guys who think of me first, as selfish as that sounds. I don’t prioritize myself, so it would be nice if someone else did.” You fiddle your thumbs and Renjun is impatiently tapping his fingers against the wheel.

The red traffic light before you enacts two different feelings. Renjun wants this ride to end as fast as possible. You want this ride to last forever.

“But, Jaemin is seeing someone.”

Your head ducks down and out the window at the shining streetlamps; you know very well about Jaemin’s love life. “I didn’t expect anything from him. I just liked him for him. He came to pick me up every time I would ask, I guess I have a thing for guys who do that.”

Renjun tightens his grip, heart pounding at your statement. You peer up to look at your friend in the lack of light. His glasses sit low on his nose bridge, a soft cotton shirt hugs his torso, and pajama pants that clad his legs. A mess bed of hair as the cherry on top.

After Jaemin, you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t fall for anyone so easily. All of that was thrown out the window the very first night Renjun came to your saving. Despite contrary belief, your heart is not as impenetrable as people make you out to be. And as tough as you can be, it was too hard not to be the slightest interested in him.

Ever since your first meeting, Renjun has always been cool and collected. He’s a hothead at his best, but too playful for any serious damage. Renjun reminds you of yourself. Like a huge impenetrable wall built against any trouble to enter, he is as guarded as you are. He’s timid, and while you had tried your best to hide your own, Renjun simply embraces that part of him.

Renjun stayed after every tearful night. He’s helped you through every difficult study guide, if anything he saved your failing grade.

Renjun puts you first throughout anything; asking if you want the booth seat at restaurants, strategically walking on the outer side so you can avoid driving cars, always has your favorite snacks without you asking. Every tiny gesture, may you be slightly delusional, seemed as if he loved you. And if he did, you wouldn’t mind one bit because you wanted to love him back.

“What about you? We’ve never really talked about our love lives before.” You speak up in the silence, Rejun being awfully quiet tonight. He hopes you don’t blame him, but everything has been too overwhelming. He is no longer sure on what he wants to do or how to react.

“My love life is too sad to talk about.” He’s never wanted to talk about it with you, in case he’d slip up and say something too revealing. “It’s a long list of unrequited loves. I’ve given up on professing my feelings to someone at this point.”

“What would have to happen to get you to confess?” Your eyes coin a mischievous twinkle.

Renjun feels his palms grow sweaty, a bit nervous with this conversation topic. 

“Something catastrophic.”

Something catastrophic did end up happening. Renjun wishes he could disappear, or if he runs away, would anyone notice?

He stands behind your fuming stance. In any other given situation, Renjun would be more than flattered that you’re standing up for him. However in this case, you’re making a fool out of yourself on his behalf.

“Oh, so you haven’t told (Y/N) about the bet?” Of all the nights Renjun decides to accompany you on a Friday evening, he runs until the one person he never wanted to come within ten feet to.

Truthfully, the night was going well. He ran into a few of his other acquaintances from his club, others from his classes. You held onto his arm the moment you two entered the party, afraid to lose this precious boy in the dense crowd. People walked by and expressed how cute you two looked together.

You poured him drinks that will make his head throb and you busted dance moves that made his heart throb. You were the epitome of a fun time, like an explosion of positive endorphins. Your toothy smiles. Your bright electrified eyes. Your sweet laughter. This was the last beautiful image he had of you before everything came falling apart.

“What bet?” You quickly turn around to face Renjun. His hand scratches the back of his neck and his gaze stays staring at his own feet. Your throat grows tight from Renjun’s hesitation.

“He made a bet with me that he could get you to fall in love with him.” Please stop talking, Renjun begs in his thoughts. He tightens his fist, unable to form words to speak. The thumping of the loud music makes it hard to focus.

“He—” Shaky voice and stuttering… even you are having doubts of Renjun’s character. “He wouldn’t do that.” Your eyes bounce between him and Renjun.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you don't know him very well then.” Renjun’s arrogant friend crosses his arms coolly, a smug smirk unfolding on his face.

“It’s true, (Y/N). I did make the bet and I regret it every waking day.” Renjun finally speaks up, but you’re out the door before he can continue.

There isn’t another thought in his head when he’s running after you; you’re already so far down the road. The secret was bound to be revealed, but he wasn’t ready for it. He was never going to be ready for this day because his first mistake was making the bet to begin with.

He should have thought about you. He should have just swallowed his pride and talked his friend out of it. Was that a choice? Could he have just done that instead of letting it fester into such a problem?

Out of breath and out of mind, Renjun calls out your name. When you spin on your heels to walk toward him, his heart reaches for you. However, you push at his chest and he almost falls backwards.

You’re angry, more than angry. You’re upset. You have every right to be. “What were you thinking, Renjun?” There is a small crack in your voice and he can see your tear stained cheeks under the moonlight. “Am I even your friend? All this time… you had an agenda. Were your actions all fake, then? You wanted to manipulate me into falling in love with you?”

Your words are hitting like large bricks. You are questioning the past five months of your friendship and everything Renjun has ever done for you. A false reality, Renjun didn’t actually give a damn about you. He wanted to prove some odd male status. Could you be any more blind?

“Please let me explain… I was drunk out of my mind that night and the bet I made was stupid. It was before proper evaluation. Does it make it okay? No, I understand that.” Renjun speaks with his hands, clearly panicked and frazzled by the way they waved around in the air. “The bet… I did it to protect you from that guy. I didn’t want him to hurt you.”

“So you hurt me instead?” If someone were to listen closely, they would be able to hear the shattering of two hearts tonight. On this late evening, two hearts are broken under the moon and stars.

But it’s pitiful because the arrow that struck Renjun remains intact. He still loves you, which is why it pains him so much to where he can’t breathe. The information in his head is scattered, like an alarm blaring through his empty brain.

All he knows is that he loves you. You are the one thing he’s afraid of losing. From the first words you two exchanged, his fear that he hid all too well is and always will be losing you.

“That was not my intention ever. I never wanted to hurt you.” Renjun takes a step closer, but you take one back.

“Well you did because your little bet… it worked. I love you, Renjun, so congratulations.” There is bitterness and an inexplicable amount of heartbreak that lace your venomous confession.

All of his life, he thought that if one person liked him back, he’d be the happiest person in the world. Possibly confused at how to proceed with the information, but definitely glad that someone could see any redeeming characteristics in him.

But he feels all the opposite. Your confession keeps his heart broken. If anything, it puzzles him more. “How..? Why would you ever like me?” There were no tricks, no attempts at flirtation, nothing out of bounds of being your friend. He just had himself. And if anyone in the universe were to like him, he’d never expect it would be you.

You groan, growing more infuriated at Renjun. “Because you’re everything I wish I could be. You’re level-headed and insightful. You’re calm and cool, without any necessary arrogance. The way you make me feel… I feel important to you, at least, I thought I was.” Your voice continues to drop softer and softer, “how could I not like you?”

The butterflies could not come at a better time. Hearing you compliment him when he found it difficult to look past his own self deprecation, he’s beyond any levels of shock. Nevertheless, he feels apologetic and knew that this is all too good to be true.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), for making that terrible bet. But, I need you to know one thing: our friendship was genuine. All I’ve ever wanted these past months is to make sure your sweet smile stays resting on your beautiful face.”

“Why? You didn’t know me! You used me for some … pride gamble. I was nothing to you the day you made that bet.” You shout harsh words at him, and Renjun can’t hold back any longer.

This is what he meant by something catastrophic. When he’s pushed to the edge of a cliff, all his buttons are pressed aggressively. Everything falling apart. The loose ends coming undone all too quickly to grapple. He never wanted it to come to this.

“That-That’s not true! I loved you long before that regretful night! You mean every single moment of happiness to me. You’re every ray of sunshine that kisses my skin, every blue sky that reminds me of good days. You mean everything to me.” Genuine words pour from his lips, hoping that you’ll understand what’s left of his heart.

“You’re confessing?” You gasp, practically dazed at the amount of metaphors he compared you to. “Something catastrophic.” A small moment of recollection and a mumble under your breath, you’re understanding what he meant by the phrase he used several nights ago.

“Yes because I can't lose you. I’m a mess of feelings at the moment, but I just know that I’m scared to wake up to days without you in them.” Renjun pleads, the night air causing goosebumps to rise on his arms. His eyes are full of melancholy and fear as he waits for your response.

And you want to forgive him, but would that mean your heart is being too easy? You feel lingering pain, but your eyes reflect Renjun. “To think I thought you were pretty fearless.” Scoffing, you roll your eyes at him and are completely unsure what to do next.

Nevertheless, you’ve wanted someone like Renjun at some point in your life. You hoped for better days and those didn’t start happening until you two met. Renjun went from being your distant study partner to being your number one person to call. He’s wiped more tears than any boy has.

The difference between Renjun and Jaemin is while Jaemin is known to have an extravagantly warm presence, Renjun’s is hidden underneath all the quietness. Like a breakthrough, getting through Renjun felt like getting through to yourself. You needed him to aid in your own self love.

All you’ve ever wanted is to be seen and Renjun saw you.

“I forgive you.” Renjun can finally breathe and rest his tense muscles. But when he reaches for your hand, you take it away. “But it doesn’t mean we are okay. I’ll approach you when I’m ready.”

It’s not easy to love as it’s not easy to pretend that everything can go back to normal after being hurt. You need him to understand that, would he wait for you? The many others before didn’t.

“Okay.” That is all he can say, in the midst of a defeat, he still wishes that you’d stay by his side. But he wrestles that desire with transparency and having organic feelings. Nonetheless, he values the latter. If you did really somehow manage to love him, you’ll come back when you’re ready. He knows. He understands. He sees you through and through.

And he watches you disappear back into the house to find a friend to drive you home. He loves you, but love can also be consequential.

It’s already midway into the school semester and not that Renjun is counting or anything, but it’s been practically a whole month since the night at the party. He’s done nothing, except sigh in despair and reminisce about the memories before they were ruined.

While Jaemin’s efforts to console him are much appreciated, it doesn’t do much for the fact that you haven’t acknowledged Renjun’s existence for a whole thirty days.

And although he’ll wait a lifetime for you, the question of when he should move on ponders his clouded thoughts. His intensively agonizing desire of wanting to be by your side has dwindled down now. Renjun just wants to see you happy.

“Hey Cupid,” It’s a newly despised nickname coined by the one and only person who knows how to push at Renjun’s buttons — Lee Haechan. Haechan knocks obnoxiously at his door and does not wait around to hear an answer, “get your sad face out here.”

“Go away, Haechan. I’m not in the mood.” As Renjun mindlessly skims over his calendar for important dates, he is pained by the reminder of your upcoming birthday. You had marked it yourself a while back and specifically told Renjun that his attendance is entirely mandatory.

Times have changed now, right? You’ve been radio silent for weeks and as much as he hates to say this to himself: you probably don’t remember making such an assertion. Why would you? You’re most likely not thinking about him anymore anyways and maybe that’s for the better.

“Hey! Lovestruck Asshole, I’m not going to tell you again. Get that arrow out of your ass and come outside now.” Just the demand alone in Haechan’s voice irritates Renjun enough to where he’s storming to open his door.

But what it reveals is not the smirk of his annoying housemate, instead, it is the image of the very first time Renjun ever laid eyes on you and the moment Cupid’s Arrow struck right through his heart. It’s a rush of nostalgia that surges through his veins.

You sit with a hand underneath your chin and elbow pressing into a flat surface for support. The dazed stare of daydream as you’re unaware of your surroundings, yet still waiting for something exciting to catch your attention. And just how lovely you look in the softest rose colored shirt and how your lips, still barely glistening from a quick swipe of your tongue, are slightly agape into an expressionless rest.

All before your eyes trail to the distraction of another body entering the room and for a brief second, make eye contact with Renjun as he’s all the more astonished by your grace. Then like a scene that’s imprinted in his head too clearly, your gaze drops back down to the floor and you’re back to your inner thoughts.

As if the pierced arrow in his heart is triggered, Renjun rediscovers the feelings of a newfound infatuation — a crush. Though baseless except in regards to physical attraction, he’s nonetheless amazed by how quickly you take his breath away… again.

Unlike the first memory, you actually speak to him as you’re now familiar with the starry eyed boy. “It’s been a while.”

The color in your voice that he’s missed hearing is pure music. He clears his throat as if he’s afraid of his own vocal chords breaking from nervousness.

“H-Hey, yeah. It’s been a while.” Renjun repeats dumbfounded that you’re even sitting in his shared living room.

“How have you been?” There you are being polite, but the giddiness still runs like static through his veins at being asked about his well being.

“Lost.” He blurts out the first word that comes to mind. Perhaps, he should stop using words with such heavy implications to friendly gestures. Your head immediately pops up and he scrambles to correct himself. “I mean I’ve been distracted lately.”

“Sadness really does take its course.” You tread lightly, testing the waters with a small grin. The atmosphere is oddly comforting, like feeling you can’t quite replace.

Renjun looks rather rough around the edges, but you don’t blame him since you did show up unannounced. However, the glint in his eyes is much of a delight to see. The way his small mouth curves into the tiniest smile and the gentleness in his regular cadence remind you of past long days full of laughter. The best part of them all — you spent them together.

“My birthday is coming up soon.” Jumping straight to the point of your visit, you stand up to approach him. “I plan to host a small party… and I remember saying a while back that your attendance is mandatory.”

Renjun catches his breath in his throat and he could run gleeful laps around the room if it isn’t for the poorly spaced complex. “So are you still down, Huang Renjun?”

“I’d love that.” He smiles greatly at your offer and as simple as that, your arms wrap around his torso into a long awaited embrace.

“Me too.” You mumble into his shirt and take a deep breath of his lavender scented detergent, “I’m ready. I’m ready to have you in my life. I’m ready to laugh with you. I’m ready to lay in your company. I’m ready to give you my heart.”

As you finish your last sentence, his arms wrap around you too and pull you into a tighter hold. “You have always had mine.”

Renjun can finally remove the arrow that unforgivingly stayed stuck in his heart for the longest time. Your reciprocated love fills up the hole that is left behind. He can now love you with a full and whole heart.

[jae-canikeepyou]

| kismet | j.jh | part two

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 10k+

summary: his parents sends him for a month long vacation to the country side to meet his other half, which so happens to be you. and alternatively, your beloveds asks of you to be in your best behaviour while he’s around. disliking how things turn out, you both come up with a pact with each other before your two families gathers together for christmas eve dinner.

genre: arranged marriage + bad 1st impressions

a/n: this is not proofread and i apologise for any mistakes :p here’s the next one and i hope you look forward to the final soon! enjoy reading! ~j

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| part one | part three (final) |

it was another morning johnny saw you and jaehyun arguing at a distance by the stables. be it inaudible yelling or actions that seemed exaggerated, this time it was a sight that was a little worth seeing. so he walked closer to hear this quarrel.

“you didn’t check the horses’ conditions yet? it’s been a few days and i told you to memorise the schedule!” you flipped through pages roughly that they nearly tore. “it’s your job! you’re the ‘vet’!”

“what? you never gave me any schedule to begin with!” jaehyun groaned then sat back on the hammock to rest and you were trying to get him back up on his toes. “and what if i just want to take a day off today? you can’t force me!”

“check the animals jaehyun. that’s an order.” you sighed, writing down notes to keep updated with the stocks and materials. “i have some things to do—”

“like what? practicing and riding?” he asked and you didn’t answer. “thought so. you rarely do things around here and you still brag about how accomplished you feel.” he scoffed and laid back down on the hammock. “i’m the one doing the work..” he mumbled until it was inaudible for you.

ouch that hit the mark. johnny could see your cheeks bubbling up and eyebrows narrowing at jaehyun’s comment. of course he wouldn’t know that because you usually do not deal with the hard work around the farm. the only job you work hard for was horse riding. you had a reputation to hold as you were the daughter of a renowned family.

jaehyun took a huge inhale as he swung himself like a mother did to lull a child. he sung to annoy you even more and with the ruffles from the papers in your hands, johnny could tell his friend was satisfied making you mad. you bit your hairtie between teeth, tying your hair up into a high ponytail and rolling up your sleeves until the elbows.

he was indeed a huge man, you grabbed the edge of the cloth and pulled him as high as you could. he fell miserably to the hard soil. “ow quit it y/n!” he stood up to dust the impossible dirt from his pants. “you’re just sensitive because what i said is actually true! i’ll get back to work if that’s what you’re worried about.”

he fixed his coat and head straight inside the stables.

you crossed your arms and tried your best to hold your changing expression. “talk about sensitive! you can’t even withstand heavy workload!”

“mentally i can but i’m not physically ready! i didn’t sign up to be your pawn so stop acting like a queen and actually help out!” he grabbed the hay and scattered them in the horses’ place.

the audacity- the fall from three days ago still had an impact on you. “didn’t you hear what i said? i have things to do! now continue that. i have to answer this call..” you sounded irritated and soon your voice sounding further away the more you spoke. jaehyun saw you answering the ringing phone, taking it from you.

before you could, you were draped on his shoulder as if you were a towel. “i won’t take that as an excuse, y/n! you’re coming with me!” he forcibly took the phone off your hands and threw it far.

defeated and exhausted to talk back, you tapped his back because fear was slowly consuming you due to your shoulder pain. “you’re buying me another phone! put me down jaehyun! my back still hurts!” you hit his hips and expected he wouldn’t listen but,

he did as you were told.

“you’re forgetting your condition number one!” jaehyun pointed his temples as anger became visibly seen on his face. “you said ‘you’ll do the work for me and with me’, and they go together!” he threw a small sack of hay to you.

“you’re being an ass because i invaded your day-off!” you stomped to the next horse.

“tsk, i don’t think i can continue this with you! you‘re ruining my well-being every single day!”

“the jeong jaehyun can’t stand arguments?” you tilted your head in frustration and nodded at his silence. “thought so. this is part of the pact you suggested and i’m just simply following it! so if there’s anything, you’re the weak one here!”

from afar, johnny was taken aback behind the fences.

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the kitchen was quiet, the grandfather clock ticking away time and as each second passed, so did your patience. daylight met its end. it was day 14 and your mother asked you to give jaehyun the lesson he wanted to have— bread making. you forgot about it, and jaehyun probably did too because despite staying over for ‘vacation’, every day you either saw him with his friends goofing around the barn or him superglued to his school work.

yet now you were close to smashing his face into the mountain of flour he carefully, and slowly built. mark did a better job despite being clumsy. you can handle clumsy, but you couldn’t handle people with top perfection in their ego, a.k.a., jaehyun.

his dimples were hollowing as he looked intently at the numbers on the scale, waiting for that specific and exact digit to appear with a spoonful of melted butter. “oh my g- you’re wasting time!” you grabbed the spoon and put everything into the bowl. “0.1 or 0.2 grams makes no difference! hurry up and mix the dry to the wet ingredients!”

“i was nearly done with the measurements but you had to dump everything in there!” still he stirred them in a bowl with a whisk anyway. “you’re the impatient one!” he carried the bowl and placed it between his arm and waist, subtly asking johnny to film him.

“uhm what do i do after they’re incorporated?” mark interrupted the heated conversation. so far he was careful and observant with your every move. “do i knead it?”

“after twenty minutes.” you smiled at him. this was great; mark actually made your day at least, a lot better than jaehyun did. “resting it will let the flour hydrate. the milk will be absorbed and the gluten will relax too.”

mark snapped his fingers as he tore a plastic wrap to place on the bowl. “that makes it easier to knead right?”

for a moment you felt like a proud mom. “mhm, you’re learning! you’re originally not my student today but you’re doing a better job than—”

the bowl jaehyun was using fell to the floor. to make it worse it was upside-down, that meant all work done had gone to waste. the dough wasn’t close to incorporated. “..him.”

“crap.” jaehyun swore under his breath. his lashes slowly lifted. “my bad. i don’t mind starting again. i can handle my next batch.”

and though they were pretty, your disappointment came through your sigh. “goodness jaehyun. things are never right with you. i’ll clean this up. we ran out of eggs and milk so you have to go to the farm and get some.” you pulled mark’s arm aside as you began to clean. “mark you can chill for a while.”

jaehyun untied his apron and went out with a bucket, mumbling and complaining to himself at exasperating you were so early in the morning.

johnny then followed him. the pact he heard lingered in his head and thought this would be the right time to ask. “i can do the milking myself john.” he opened the gate to the cattle.

“i know. but that’s not why i came along.” johnny put his camera aside. “you and y/n.. made a pact?” with that question out and jaehyun dropped the bucket, johnny figured that what he heard days ago could be true.

“what?” jaehyun turned on his heel, confused, trying not to sound or look surprised. “why would i make a pact with someone so ill-mannered as her? she’s not worth my time or even interests me.” he affirmed with subtle shaky eyes. “the only pact i know is this marriage our parents put us into.

johnny thought for a while, looking at jaehyun who grew clueless the minute passed. he guessed he was wrong. “n-nothing. i’m probably hearing things. or jumbling scenarios because i’ve been watching too many movies this holiday season. i’m sorry dude.”

deep inside jaehyun let out a sigh of relief, but anger was starting to boil at how careless you were for slipping out. he continued to milk the cows and retrieve a couple of eggs before hearing you call them from the house. “oh my g- she’s screaming again-” he scoffed and tried to walk faster. “i can’t just run i might spill the milk bucket!”

“there’s this thing called speedwalking!” you yelled. “try doing that!”

“you always argue with her. aren’t you both tired?” johnny took huge leaps to escape the cold.

“she isn’t, i am. imagine the amount of stress i get the moment i open my eyes in the morning.” jaehyun vouched and shivered at the thought of it.

johnny opened the door and the warmth met their skin. “sure but when you do bump heads, there’s always a smile on your face after you state your point. i never seen you in a good mood since you and sue broke up. i can take that smile of yours a sign.” johnny noted what he’d been seeing.

“it’s a victor’s smile. it means i win the argument.”

they both entered the house and to find you still teaching mark. jaehyun placed the bucket down and rested on the sofa after being told he could use the kitchen once you were finished. trying to keep warm, jaehyun gave small glimpses of you as he wondered when it would be the right time to tell you about what johnny told him. and because he felt johnny tailing him from behind, he wanted your lesson to be over quick.

“i’m thinking it’s a sign that you have feelings for y/n.”

jaehyun batted his lashes. “no no no. i don’t fall in love that easily. there’s nothing attractive about her and i told you i’m not marrying someone like her, with bad attitude and all—”

“and still you tease her for fun? that’s like a cover-up to hide how you actually feel. you may not see that but in another’s eyes, it means something.” johnny clicked the buttons on his camera, rewatching the videos he took.

“are you throwing the ‘i tease her because i like her’ kind of ego? you know i argue with her because i hate her.” he hissed, flipping his laptop open to double check his reports.

the blonde hair boy shook his head with a growing grin of disbelief. “i’m not. my point is, it wouldn’t hurt to try to know her for who she is.” johnny’s lips flatlined when his eyes trailed to your approaching figure. “who knows maybe she’s trying as well and never really got the chance to- yeah i know y/n he’s all yours now.”

unfolding your arms you playfully hit his back with pressed lips. “shut it johnny. just help the baby lion with the cleaning, he’s not really good at it.”

you sat on the sofa, circling your shoulder to ease the pain before leaning back. “ugh. kneading the bread made it worse.”

with the frequent complaints coming from you, he couldn’t concentrate proof-reading his work. it made jaehyun unzip his coat, fishing something from inside and handed a box to you. bothered with how you hesitated to get it, he grabbed your wrists and placed it on your palms. “take it. it helps me a lot too whenever i cram.” did he just.. smile? it was subtle but you were sure he did.

a swarm of guilt started to form at the pit of your stomach. it wasn’t that you thought he partially blamed himself for the fall at the barn house, but because he actually cared when the fall wasn’t even the ultimate reason why your shoulder suffered in the first place. he had no knowledge and still doesn’t. and it was kind of frustrating to think you couldn’t begin that topic.

your heart now was experiencing somersaults. you asked yourself: why? sure he’s handsome and got built, but at this moment why are you all flimsy and speechless? “so you do have a heart for people.” you opened the box of the patch’s packaging.

“i was expecting a ‘thank you’ but i guess with that you’re taking back your words.” he grinned as he typed on.

you snorted as you put your legs up. “hmpf, aren’t you assumi- ow.” you touched your forehead where the pain stung.

“shut up, i’m reading.” jaehyun stressed in a low voice.

“reading what?” you scooted in closer, and jaehyun surprisingly let you see what it was rather than snapping at you. you squinted at the screen and nodded. “equine studies..” you read out softly, that seemed to be a report he worked on in his early years. “isn’t it mandatory for you to study it?”

jaehyun’s scrutinizing gaze caught you off guard, making you clamp your lips to keep quiet. he sighed and continued to read as if you didn’t exist. “i thought you weren’t interested in my field of study.” his brows drew together at your curiosity despite remembering how you did say it clearly.

quickly you tear the patch’s plastic to break the awkward silence you brought upon and let out a soft chuckle of shame. “i’m asking because it’s equine related and i wanna learn. plus i’m too tired to pick up a fight with you so teach me everything you know.”

“i don’t even know if you’d get it in one night- fine. it’s mandatory but i only learnt the basics. i’m not specialising in it or anything so don’t expect much.” jaehyun stared at the screen yet feeling your presence so close kind of pressured him, and he didn’t know why.

“basics like checking the heart, respiratory rate, temperature and hydration status?” you hugged your legs together after placing the patch behind you. “hm.. that’s kinda simple.”

jaehyun clicked his tongue. “that’s the general checking for an animal’s condition, used for emergency access and such. we were given an understanding of veterinary anatomy—”

“which includes learning principles in developmental anatomy in gross, microscopical and ultrastructural levels. learn all these then you can focus on organs to give a physical and radiological diagnosis with the physiology and anatomy as bases—” you finished his sentence, soon shutting up as you got carried away.

his mouth agaped in shock and in strangeness of your interest. he checked your forehead to see if you were in the right mind. “did you read it out from a book or something? and what’s up with you and scientific terminology? you’re supposed to be hating on big words.”

you wondered why his comment hurt you. did he assume you were uneducated? at this point you thought deeply that secrets were meant to be kept. and they were only to be revealed by two ways; one was heard by others, and two was at your will.

“why are you so quiet now?” he laughed, scrolling down at endless of documented pages. “are you experiencing brain fart after that long sentence of sophisticated vocabulary?”

this was far from assumption. this was plain mockery. and it hurt. you hit him on the arm a little more violent and forceful than the usual, and bite back your lips. “it’s not because i’m dumb. i know these because i’ve been there.” you stood up and grabbed the box he gave you. “thanks for this anyway. good night.”

“hey you don’t have to hit me!” jaehyun paused for a second, he had difficulties processing your sudden outburst. he mumbled to himself, “why is she offended when i’m the one who got hit..”

mark happily came out of the kitchen with a freshly baked bread in his hands. “y/n! i’m done with the bread and it smells soooo good- jaehyun, where is she?” the younger one put down the tray.

he sighed and gestured confusingly. “i don’t know she probably went to sleep.”

“man i wanted her to try it.”

“she can try tomorrow. anyway i’m gonna take a shower.” jaehyun turned off his laptop and headed straight to the bathroom.

but before he could have his relaxation, hendery stood against the opposing wall with arms crossed. “can we talk?” he tilted his head, asking to sit at the veranda with him.

they sat at the table set with hendery pouring cups of hot tea. jaehyun took it in his hands, eyes meeting your childhood friend’s as he brushed his hair up. “i kind of wanna tell you something. it’s not my position but i feel like you deserve to know.” that made jaehyun’s mind questioning more. “i overheard you and y/n talking.”

jaehyun frowned at the very recent event, something he found rude from your action. “yeah? she reacted so much and hit me just because i teased her a little. might’ve taken it too seriously but she should know i was joking about her not knowing-”

hendery looked at the dusk distance. “m’lady loves animals more than anything, and for a long time veterinary science is something close to her heart too.”

jaehyun gulped in full on revelation. that was why you reacted. he realised the reason why you hated him in the first place wasn’t only because he was the one you were to marry, but because he was the person who was currently studying the course you’ve always wanted to take.

“she was supposed to take it in college but due to unfortunate circumstances she couldn’t continue. there’s family issue and she had an accident-”

what accident? jaehyun for the first time in other’s eyes, showed worry and curiosity. and his raise in brows cause hendery to realise he missed out an important detail.

“ah you haven’t met mr. y/l/n yet, right?” hendery asked as he sipped on his tea. “he’s busy right now because he’s always out of town but he’s the one y/n’s having issues with.”

“i’m guessing her father opposed to the idea of her becoming a vet?”

hendery shook his head. “he didn’t oppose. in fact he allowed y/n once we graduated high school. she got enrolled to the first semester and was doing well until she had little time to no practice for her semi-finals at cross country at all. mr. y/l/n is a horse riding coach so he’s especially strict with y/n. let’s say their arguments started from there.”

though he didn’t ask parts of your personal life, hearing all these news stunned jaehyun. there was only one thing he wanted to ask: what caused your accident? “how did she do with vet science?”

“she managed and had no fails.” hendery had a brief proud smile. “sadly mr. y/l/n didn’t find it impressive, because he really thought his daughter would be an equestrian like him. y/n hoped he’d be understanding but yeah anyway, you get the gist from there.”

“if it ever crosses her mind, we’ll see if she does. i’ll head inside for a shower. thanks for letting me know.” jaehyun had his palms on the knob, turning around one last time to confirm something. “was the accident, bad?”

“not as life threatening, but it was enough to traumatise her.” hendery picked up the plates and cups. “she.. still hasn’t recovered.”

he stared back at the young lad’s expression, and he could tell hendery has been looking after you ever since. maybe it was better if he hadn’t asked.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you still shook your legs after hendery warned you of your decency and image, saying that that action was his pet peeve. but really, it was just an excuse to save himself from you due to the fact he said that shaking legs while thinking wasn’t ladylike at all. you couldn’t keep yourself in one place, pacing back and forth in the barn with marg eyeing you since it already been long you did so. “sis.” she cleared her throat and you stopped being jittery with biting your fingers. “what’s up with you?”

“nothing.” you lied, an uneasy feeling began to build up in your chest as the man you despise gently held the horses’ manes. “i’m fine, just thinking.”

jaehyun did the final checks for your horses’ health conditions and to be brutally honest not only did you find him surprisingly quiet, he was rather kind and collected for four days now. he even taught you some veterinary related topics in which you were surprised he was willing to teach. maybe he took your subtle request when you wanted to learn anything he knew about equine medicine. perhaps he wanted a break from all negativity when it came to you. in fact he did mention he couldn’t continue arguing anymore.

and in those four days it got you thinking about the pact. you had a week left and you weren’t sure if you convinced your family or jaehyun’s friends enough to call off the marriage. yes you’ve been at each other’s nerves for small arguments and there were times you forget about it too because the way you both fought was so natural. however today was just too quiet, like he was stopping the fights on purpose and for what reason exactly?

marg slid next to you when you went out for fresh air, nudging you by the waist with hers. “obvious again.”

“w-what?” you widened your eyes, earning a sly grin from your sister. “obvious about what?”

“your heart is on your sleeves. i can see it. the others might do too. so tell me, do you like jaehyun?” she crossed her arms, her grin widening when you began to be jittery again.

“ha?! no!” you stuttered and lied, and you knew marg’s claims hit the nail.

because not only did the past four days of not talking with jaehyun had a toll on your pact, but it definitely had on your heart. there were a total of four things you discovered about him.

1. jaehyun was a fast learner. he learned to clean horse hooves, saddle them and even did carpentry in one day.

2. he had humour but no one really acknowledged it, and appeared a little dorky to you.

3. his dimples were actually cute and has a vampire smile.

4. he really did have a heart for people too. you saw how he helped out your family whenever you were absent.

sometimes these traits softened you, and sometimes you wanted to at least be his friend. but you weren’t close to being one because the pact clearly prevents you to and in the end, it was better off that way. marg held your shoulder. “i know you fight a lot but that’s when the developing starts.” she paused, looking back at the barn. “jaehyun seems alright but you’re really being too obvious.”

“again, obvious about what? i hate it when you’re so vague stating your point.”

“if you wanna talk with him just do it.” she turned around a little to see the said man removing his gloves. “i noticed you’re both distant. it’s been four days so i’m guessing you’re not used to not fighting him. you tend to miss whatever you both stopped doing.”

you pinched her cheek. “do you even know how mentally draining it is to reason out with him?” you darted a gaze at her before a weight was put upon your head. it wasn’t that long for you to realise it was jaehyun. gosh how irritating. you even recognised the perfume he wore.

“i know exactly how that feels, marg.” jaehyun winked at her. “can’t mess with this one,” he messed your hairdo. “she’s feistier than most animals i’ve encountered.”

his giggle of pride echoed in your ears and you thought you were able to tolerate his reply but no. whether he was doing his part for the pact or not, whether he was enjoying this or not, he became more of a jerk the longer he stayed here.

“i’ll leave you two to talk. the light in y/n’s eyes changed when you arrived- ah!” she held her arm as you pushed her aside, and she was proudly walking away with what she had done.

jaehyun shoved his hands in pockets as he gestured you to follow him into the barn. it was only the two of you now while the rest surveyed other parts of the land with hendery. he held jet’s reins, usually your horse would react whenever strangers would. not to jaehyun, shockingly. you bit your lips in wonders what this man had in his mind.

“i just checked him like you taught me. he’s dehydrated.” he pinched a part of its skin close to the mane. “you practiced this morning right? didn’t give him water?”

“i gave him enough.” you unlocked the gate to jet, soon petting him. you couldn’t help but feel immense awkwardness. “did his skin snap back?”

“not as fast as i expected but he needs a little more fluids to keep the levels normal.” jaehyun wrote down numbers before handing your notebook to you, and you thought today was going to pass again without progress for the pact. “i’m gonna walk around for a bit. later.”

“hey.” you called out perhaps a little too rudely and instead of talking things through. he stopped in his tracks. “setting the vet thing aside, aren’t you being too quiet right when we have a week left? it’s been four days and by now some of them might notice the sudden silence. did you forget about the pact?” you asked, not knowing why you were fuming all of a sudden.

maybe it was because he was only staring at you. or that marg’s obversation was slowly getting to you and convincing that her hunch about you was right. “you’re a jerk when i met you but you’re even more so nowadays.”

jaehyun turned around with pursed lips, he didn’t like how you always assumed, especially giving him nicknames in which his friends also have gotten used to calling him those. “me? a jerk? i’m doing all i can to stop this marriage because we both know how it feels to be controlled.”

his answer only made you laugh. “ha you don’t know anything about me, jaehyun. if you’re actually doing something why haven’t you done anything then? you’re being careless-”

he brushed his hair & wore his cap backwards. “it’s not about if i’ve done something! y/n it’s about what you did!” jaehyun pulled you to a corner in caution if anyone heard him. “you were loud and careless! last week johnny asked me if we made a pact because he heard you mentioning it! i assure you he has a mind i still couldn’t understand and he’s probably trying to connect the dots now-”

“wai- you’re saying he knows about it and you’re only telling me now?!” you slammed jet’s gate, your eyes fixed him. “you could’ve told me right then and we could’ve solved this as soon as possible! how much do you think he knows?”

jaehyun slowly rubbed his face, shook his head and shrugged shoulders. “i don’t know! but you know what happens when he figures out we’re arguing for show? he’ll tell everyone we did that because we’re against this marriage! and in the end? we’ll be stuck with each other for life-”

“ugh don’t even tell me about it i couldn’t even stand the sight of you!” you wrapped yourself more in your coat, stomping straight outside and ignoring his reactions towards you.

“why are you like this when it’s clearly your fault?!” he quickly grabbed your shoulders to forcibly turn you around. “i’m telling you and you’re so reactive about it?”

you pointed at his chest. “no! it’s your fault for not telling me sooner!”

“oh so now it’s my fault? y/n look at yourself! can’t you see that someone impudent like you can cause troubles even for a slightest bit! you’re at fault!”

impudent?.. this was all too familiar and nostalgic.

jaehyun then closed his eyes at the stinging pain in the groin. “ugh what the hel-”

“you deserve that-”

right when that felt good and you wanted to hit him more, you were yanked backwards by a force. you fought back the arms restraining you. “y/n stop!”

“let me go wong kunhang! this jerk needs a lesson!” you growled in his arms, shimmying your body through them.

hendery reminded you of your shoulder and soon you stopped. “i’m sure that kick was enough for a lesson and calm down, will you?”

“jae you alright?” johnny helped him up. “hope it’s not too injured because you still need that for reproduction-”

“seriously? now’s not the time.” jaehyun glared at him then to you, you were now like deer in the headlights with his stare. “this is why i can’t stand you.”

mark, hendery and johnny looked at each other trying to figure what had happened. “what were you two arguing about?” hearing hendery ask, you tugged on your coat once he let go of you. “we heard her yelling that she couldn’t stand the sight of you and then you’re both blaming each other.”

you hesitatingly looked down to your boots, avoiding their curious gazes. fidgety as you knew you were, you tried not to respond. they heard from that far of our conversation.. oh my go-

as if jaehyun could read your mind, he cleared his throat. “it’s nothing. y/n’s just stubborn as usual. she doesn’t want to admit her fault when i told her jet’s dehydrated. guess she didn’t want to look irresponsible.”

“classic y/n.” your cheeks suffered from hendery’s squeezing palms. “how many times do i have to tell you to behave? c’mon you’re better than this.”

jaehyun sighed in relief that they were convinced with his reasoning.

jet’s snout poked your arm and exhaled, you cursed under your breath for not locking the gate. “then you should know why i’m like this.” you reiterated with a flat smile. “i’m gonna go to the bar for a drink. don’t bother me.”

“oh then we’re coming with! mark! you’re driving!” johnny pulled the boys into jaehyun’s car. “this hurt dude needs cheering up after you nearly ended his career for having kids.”

“maybe it’s better off that way?” you grinned with a tattling tone.

“i hate you so-” jaehyun barked before his voice was shut off by the car door. his expression became funnier with how the vehicle muted his voice.

jet and cash trotted slowly to let the car go first, hendery rode ahead of you as you followed him. beside the roadside was fields of green, laying flat with new flowers that have yet to bloom. by now the horses were galloping alongside the car, you could feel jaehyun shooting daggers at you. the joy to horse ride diminished when you took a glimpse of him pointing at you, sliding his clenched fist from left to right and pointing at his chest.

you’re dead to me. he spoke with his eyes. and you could hear his annoying voice in your head.

you flicked the reins to ride faster, passing hendery and cash. reaching the bar first would make you feel better and it would at least let the neighbourhood know you weren’t hanging out with boys like him. you soon unmounted yourself from jet and led him to an area where he could stay.

the bell chimed and you raised your hand for a simple mocktail. funny how you told the boys you’d be here for a drink yet didn’t plan to get drunk. you sat by the bartender’s while you saw them entering and sat at one table by the window. honestly you could’ve went elsewhere instead but this bar was the closest from home. and right now you really needed to clear your mind.

to clear your mind from jaehyun because you knew he’d be the death of you.

—

and how you ended up on the same table with them was too hazy for you to recall.

“i was like, singing my heart out at one karaoke place after i was rejected from the coffee shop i applied to. then the girl of my dreams had appear while i was all sweaty and sloppy and i was shirtless! it was really-” johnny spoke too fast for you to hear and curled his fingers remembering it.

“second hand embarrassment was too much at that point.” jaehyun chuckled and sipped on his glass.

“but john, you got her to say yes even though you’re high and wild.” mark raised his palm for a fistbump.

mark turned to you. “y/n what’s something you couldn’t forget?”

you smiled slyly towards your childhood friend and hendery’s panicked face resurfaced with begging hands. you feel yourself going tipsy but went for storytelling anyway. “this previous halloween i forced hendery to dress as rapunzel because i wanted to dress as pascal.”

mark let out a contagious laugh which had everyone giggling too. you brought out your cracked screen phone which jaehyun broke and showed a picture of you on a piggyback ride with hendery. the said man cowered himself from the compliments and while you continue to keep him in the spotlight. jaehyun found it unbelievable that you were quickly switched from cranky to giggly when drunk.

“here’s the awesome part,” you slurred your words with hiccuped breaths. “around nine guys asked me to ask for his number and i gave it to them! he was that hot! i could never compete!”

jaehyun oddly cackled out loud and you all turned heads to him. “of course you could never! i mean look at you!”

his friends raised brows as jaehyun was enjoying this a little too much. perhaps taking advantage of your drunken self. “you dress weird and your hair’s a mess. you’re always rude and sometimes smelling like a horse. by the way that’s such a turn off to guys like us. like do you even bathe-”

you were definitely tipsy but you understood his words clear enough to feel a wave of emotions blanket over you. forgotten memories began play in your head and began to sulk.

“yeah i know i’m like this and so what if i’m plain and ordinary?” you whined and the boys held their breaths.

“my parents think i couldn’t take care of myself after i dislocated my shoulder at cross-country.” jaehyun heard you.

“because of that they started to pair me with accomplished men they think could give me a better life. so i misbehave every time they bring a suitor over.” you propped elbows on the table and glared at jaehyun. “you’re the fifth and before you arrived i lied to mom and dad that i recovered, hoping they’d stop and leave me alone but nope! they think you’re the one-”

hendery managed to catch your collapsed body from falling. he let out a soft laugh. “mhm, she spills a little too much when she’s drunk-”

you covered his lips and did several clicks of your tongue. “i’m tipsy! not drunk but tipsy! are you spilling tea about my life to that jerk?”

he scoffed lightly. “of course not! i didn’t tell him anything.” he lied.

you pinched his cheek. “i doubt it. you’re a talkative donkey! they should cast you to be part of shrek musical next fall!” you giggled and tried to keep yourself awake from all that drowsiness. your eyes dropping to slumber.

“m’lady.” he fixed you on his side and you were now carried on his back. “jaehyun doesn’t know a thing.” he cooed, giving jaehyun a wink to zip his mouth shut regarding the topic.

small sobs began to bubble out from you, you clung onto hendery. “ah jaehyun? you know that jerk called me impudent? he said i always cause troubles but what choice to i have? i don’t want to be betrothed!” you wailed and mark and johnny raised brows at jaehyun as soon as you said it. “hendery he called me impudent! he’s just like dad and i hate them both!” you leaned on his shoulders.

“but do you really hate jaehyun?” johnny smirked as he enjoyed how open you were compared to being sober. jaehyun noticed where this was going and tried to stop him but the tall lad shushed him when you spoke.

“yes!” you slurred with a lopsided smile and narrow brows, which looked strange as they couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing.

“i hate him because he’s so prideful! ‘jeong jaehyun, veterinary medicine student’ my butt. i should’ve been one too but daddy said no.” you pout, soon knocking out. “i hate how.. handsome that jerk looks-”

your friend hopped slightly and quickly got out of the bar so you wouldn’t cause a scene any further. “i’ll bring her to my place, it’s just a block from here. you guys can go ahead.” he told the guys to call it a night. “i’ll take jet and cash to my stables at home. see y’all tomorrow.”

they got on the car and started the engine. jaehyun read the atmosphere among them, he fixed the front mirror and saw mark and johnny with questioning looks. “what?”

“did you really call y/n impudent?” mark played with the buttons of the window.

jaehyun stepped on the pedal to head to your place. his friends bombarded him with what if’s and was too tired to respond. but just to shut them up, he replied.

“i was angry when i said that. i didn’t really mean-”

“do you think she meant it when she said you’re handsome?” johnny asked to cut off the weird vibe lingering while mark propped his fists to rest.

“she’s drunk. not like she can remember it anyway.” jaehyun clenched on the wheel.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you woke up in hendery’s bed with a tray of breakfast on his desk table. you slid it towards yourself to eat when a folded paper fell from underneath.

i saw jaehyun at the grocery store earlier, he asked me to pass this breakfast to you. also! he said he’ll be at the barn’s loft. now go meet him. ~hendery

great, he pissed you off yesterday and he was the last person you wanted to see today. what was his plan now? he prepared breakfast and yet what was the use of eating the meal when it has gone cold? you tied your hair to a top bun and wore your glasses, quickly grabbing your coat, onto to jet’s back and went to the barn.

the sun’s heat was enough to make you warm on the way there. jaehyun swung his legs while he waited. he stared at the ground when a shadow appeared, you stood at the entrance asking him to come down.

he did that, but there was a different air around him. it was the same air as those four days of silence between the two of you. “at least you’re not late.” he slid his palms into his back pockets.

“did you want to talk to me about something?” you asked with a slice of bread in your mouth. he nodded with intense eyes. “then make it quick. i have to make my rounds-”

“i’ll go with you.” jaehyun suggested and you choked on your bread.

“what?” you gulped on the huge piece stuck in your throat and stopped him from walking. “why not tell me now?”

he pulled you to jet’s stall and pushed your back to mount on the saddle. “‘cause it’s better if they don’t see us talking normally when we’re supposed to be at each other’s throats.”

he’s definitely up to something..

jaehyun rode a bike, leading you and jet through woods and up on a hill where its summit towers part of your family’s lands. from here you could see your house and tiny figures you assumed were his friends. you haven’t gotten a clue why jaehyun was being nice again. and if he was, why today? why bring you all the way here to have this conversation? you couldn’t think of anything at all and maybe you should’ve eaten the meal he prepared for you.

when the winds blew, jaehyun spoke in a soft voice. he was awkward, you could tell that, but what he did was something you didn’t expect. he leaned back with his palms on the grass. “i’m sorry i called you names.”

hm.. you better be.

that apology alone pierced your heart, in a good way. if he was tired from all the negativity and endless banters, so were you. it had been fifteen days after all. maybe this was a cool break before continuing with the pact. “which ones?” you copied his position and counted your fingers one by one. “there’s ugly.. shorty.. lazy ass.. a no brainer-”

“i didn’t call you tha-” he paused, his lips forming an ‘o’ until he pursed them together seeing you mimic him on his laptop. “right. i implied it when you wanted me to teach you equine studies. anyway the bottom point is, i’m sorry for calling you impudent.”

you chuckled, but to him it sounded more of a scoff. “haven’t heard that in ages. never expected i’d hear that again.” you looked at him, he did too, there was a stare down before you spoke again.

“but yeah. i guessed you did that to fulfill your part for the pact. the guys were probably nearby and you thought of that to spark up the conversation. are we done?”

jaehyun rested his arm on his knees. “no that’s not what i meant- i’m being sincere here.”

“okay? then tell me what’s on your mind. you brought me up here. it’s gotta be something worth my time.”

“i feel like the pact just brings the worse out. and whenever it does, i don’t feel myself anymore. like this is not me.”

he picked up a dandelion, letting the wind take its soft pieces. he wished his feelings weren’t easily swayed like the flower’s petals. he knew he was easily hotheaded, stubborn and mr. perfect, but should he always be like these?

“then who is the real you?” you caught some flying pieces of the flower before looking back at him for answers.

“a studious douche who got his heart broken by his ex.” he shrugged and waited for your bicker, but you sat there with shocked eyes and struggled to find what to say. “yeah, in case you’re still surprised, i do have a heart for people.”

“i heard you.” you flicked his temple.

he held back fists from hitting back. “hey why’d you hit me?”

“it’s my way of being affectionate.” you laid on the grass and while he copied, you thought that jaehyun had a point, how the pact seemed a good approach yet with deteriorating results.

“by being violent?” jaehyun moaned as he asked. “ever thought that a pat in the back would be better?”

you glared at him. “let’s continue what we’re doing with another condition.. no personal or evil intentions whatsoever, or maybe a slight hint that we’d start dissing. we’re doing this for ourselves and..” you cleared your throat. “..helping out a friend.”

it made total sense, because he knew how much of an effect it did when the purpose of the pact was done unconsciously and naturally. he let out a tight and breathless sigh between his lips. “i’m your friend? after calling you all that?”

“i just needed something to describe you. would calling you a douche make you feel better after you apologised?” you stood up and headed downhill.

“well you did call me ‘handsome’ last night.” jaehyun singsonged and carefully walked down the stoned steps.

you froze at how stupid and blabbermouth you could be whenever you went to the bar. “i don’t remember, since i’ve been studying the things you taught me.”

“you can ask the others if you think i’m lying.”

“y’know what? i take back the condition i said.” you quickly hopped on jet to head back. “don’t bother me!”

“what do you mean studying? you’re planning to pursue vet sci? hey!”

“yeah.” you made jet walk in circles around the confused man, and your one-word response had jaehyun confirming you already decided to tell your father about it.

and it’d be on christmas eve too.

—

for almost half an hour marg couldn’t contain her feelings after you told her what had happened. marg squealed and you quickly covered her mouth since the door wasn’t entirely closed. she squeezed the pillow and hid herself behind it.

“he apologised?! such a gentleman! i mean mark didn’t really tell me the details but jaehyun really felt guilty?” she put the pillow down and crawled next to you on your bed.

as to why she reacted this way remained unclear to you, you figured it was probably she watched too many rom-coms with johnny in the past few days. “i admit, it was considerate of him to do that. but it doesn’t prove he’s already a good man.” you fixed your files and past researches of veterinary science. “sometimes an apology isn’t enough.”

your sister nudged you in a force causing you to stumble in your stance. “ey you’re too mean. him apologising is already enough of a sign that he’s a good one, and raised well.”

“i don’t know marg.” you slumped on your bed. “my head’s hurting because of him.”

she raised a brow and gave you a teasing look. “by thinking of him or he just couldn’t get out of your head?” she kicked her feet to escape your balling fists.

“why are you reacting if it’s not true?!” her giggles grew in volume as she brought out her phone record your reaction.

“get out of my room!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

jaehyun walked around the mart in response to yet another order from you. it had to be a day before christmas eve too. he should be feeling the very essence of christmas and because of you, he didn’t. people who happened to pass by him swore they saw a walking corpse, while some sensed a spreading dark cloud hovering above him.

his demeanour quickly shifting and changing as if the clouds blocked his rays of sunshine. he was mumbling to himself and those who stood close by took careful small steps away from jaehyun, for he sounded like he was enchanting a spell.

he thought about it a lot— whether it there’d be a difference between the two of you if you hadn’t taken back that condition. because now that he was controlled like a pawn again, he wasn’t going to back down or lose to you. at least for the past few days since then he saw an improvement. you weren’t as violent, not a single word of hate from you nor were they intentional. it was obvious you were helping out. a small smile managed its way to resurface until he saw a reflection of himself looking like an idiot. jaehyun, you’re a fool. you shouldn’t be feeling this.

ignoring his subconscious, he turned a heel at the next grocery aisle when a voice attracted attention, at least to him it sounded like hendery. hearing your name from an unfamiliar man’s lips had him peeking secretly at a distance. “i suppose y/n’s behaving well with jaehyun?”

“better than everyone expected.” hendery followed him with hands deep in pockets. “aside their petty arguments, she gets along with him, mr. y/l/n.”

“that’s good to hear. i knew the jeong’s would never fail my expectations. their son is in vet school, yes?”

the mentioned name chilled him to the bone. he wasn’t to supposed to be feeling in this manner yet the very presence of your father already had gotten his shoes glued to the ground. hendery nodded and continued to walk along with him. “i hope he doesn’t encourage her about it too much. having y/n marry him would keep her quiet about ever continuing vet school.”

jaehyun’s back grazed the products he lightly leaning upon and stood still in his thoughts. he wasn’t the type to eavesdrop on others, let alone your family issues. although he was briefly told about your rocky relationship with your father and couldn’t hear much of the conversation, he shouldn’t care or meddle with it but.. did mr. y/l/n really think that?

and he remembered how you told him you’d pursue veterinary.

he fished for his phone with certainty that he would tell you what he had heard. he nearly dropped his phone when it rang and your name appeared as the caller. staring at it for a while, never in his life had he ever hesitated before— given that he was a straight forward person, he wanted to tell you.

and he didn’t know why he decided to keep his mouth shut and stayed behind, instead of doing the opposite. hendery noticed him beside the hundreds of chocolate chip buckets. “oh jaehyun!” he greeted, making your father turn his head around. “come here!”

jaehyun pressed his lips for being caught, steadily and unwilling to go them. he wished that now would be the appropriate time to be walking on super glue, he really didn’t have the mood to talk to your father. it wasn’t the right time as their conversation about you would probably escalate from there.

“hello mr. y/l/n, i’m-” he greeted, unknowingly staring at him longer because you were his carbon-copy.

“i know you’re jaehyun and i’ve been updated enough that i wouldn’t have to be physically at my residence to know your good qualities.”

“glad to know someone’s giving you the correct information.” jaehyun smiled, subtly gazing straight at hendery with more pressure on the tone of the name. hendery then clamped his lips to a close, regretting he should’ve minded his words carefully.

mr. y/l/n nodded with a chuckle— even hendery rarely saw him doing so, ever. and this only proved that there wouldn’t be a better groom fit for you other than the son of his childhood friends. “i like your personality. mind joining me for tea?”

jaehyun read the situation, and what your father was up to. he had to listen for another half hour even though he felt his phone continually vibrating then stopping. he knew it was you, but how could he answer when the person you grew to hate was with him at this moment? one word from him through a phone call would make you go berserk.

anyone could see that jaehyun was fighting a mental dilemma. for anyone it would be an easy question to answer; free food, you’re in. his future father-in-law asked for company, sure why not. jaehyun felt like he only one answer, and it had to be a correct one. he gulped and though he eyes wavered, he agreed anyway. “i don’t mind, but y/n would probably be moody if i don’t return immediately.”

“mhm, no worries. i won’t keep you long.” mr. y/l/n said, and jaehyun didn’t know why he had a small heart attack on what possibly could follow.

he lead him to a restaurant, hendery nudged the troubled-looking dimpled man. “sorry dude. he likes snacking on things but i’ll try to divert his attention so you can go to y/n asap.”

—

the relieved sigh didn’t last long when looked up from the ground. jaehyun spotted you crossing arms with a slight worrisome look. your fingers then pointed at the kitchen window and it looked like his soul left his body and his footsteps on the ankle-high snow. the curtains indoors brushed to one side with his parents facing back from the windowsill at the upper balcony.

his heart was beating his chest as if it wanted to go out. he planned to tell you what he and your father talked about, but in that previous hour he missed out your text messages and calls— not knowing they were that important. now he knew why they were.

you took his phone and clicked on the lock button, he didn’t check your means to reaching him. they were still in the lockscreen. “i know you’re a seenzoner but you shouldn’t ignore important calls! i was calling you an hour ago because your parents came so suddenly. did you know about their change of plans?”

he gave you other paper bag and made his way inside. “no they were supposed to arrive tomorrow.” to you jaehyun seemed grumpy for doing groceries, but it was obviously not the case when kept looking elsewhere. he bit his inner gums in question as to why he was venting out his irritation at you instead of the revelation that was told to him.

you followed him in and began bring out the items to set the remaining food on the kitchen island. something told you not to go overboard with the planned argument you had in mind, but you couldn’t handle the way he was acting now, as well as giving you the sudden silent treatment. behaving this way was such a wrong timing and you decided to cut the silence before it made you feel worse than you already were. “you good?”

“y-yeah.” he tilted down to take a quick look at you while realising lately how you hadn’t been sleeping well. the puffiness under your eyes was proof. he cleared his throat. “uh, i should be asking you but have you been studying.. lately? or have you been staying up all night?” he asked, changing the subject.

he twitched at your outburst excitement with your palms rested on his arm, shaking it vigorously. now that he reminded you, you gestured him for a whisper. “i found another way to stop this marriage without us hurting each other.”

what? his eyes grew big.

“aren’t you hurting me now?” he cleared his throat, referring to the reddening spot on his skin from your grip. he knew what you meant. he knew you’ve been sitting in your bed the whole day, reading e-books and going over past lectures documents.

“if i tell my dad that i’m pursuing vet school again, i think this time he’d let me. i’m confident because i do have a degree in equestrian sport science. imagine the benefit if have a degree in veterinary?” you opened a carton of milk to drink. “i wonder if my credits’ still applicable?”

“you sure you wanna do that?” jaehyun held the top your head, gripping it as if it were a basketball. “it’s gonna take you years to finish.”

“scared to have a competitor in the field, jaehyun?” your voice challenged him.

he wasn’t scared at all, he loved competitions as well as proving he could do things. but, he was scared for you. he knew the outcome of all this because it was already planned out. he was told by your father during tea break before he arrived here.

chills slowly went down your spine with that one, subtle, short silence from him.

“i’m not scared. it’s just that..” you shot up your head at his remark. he trailed off and shut his lips seeing your parents enter the living room with his beloveds.

“just what?” you stared at him with a long hum.

he had to lie and keep his opinions to himself. “are you able to take on hard words in that tiny brain of yours?” jaehyun scoffed, leaning in closer to provoke an argument with his hands patting your head.

“hey! you’re insulting my height, not my brain!” he heard your innocent whines as if they were precious— too precious that he wanted to protect you than to fight you; just for tonight.

and for the first time he was laughing sincerely at you.

week three had you imagining things, that he would look at you so differently. instead of horns they’d be halos, softer looks than tensed ones, and most of all you wonder what changed him within a day. it was confusing that he would show another side of him, then go back to what he was when you first met him.

but tonight? his possibility of change soon went void.

during dinner, whether or not it was right, that choice you made became one of the two things you regret to do and say. your father said his ultimatum in a low voice by the hallway, isolated from everyone enjoying the celebration.

“dad, please. i’ve done what you want. i think it’s time you’d allow me to do what i want.” you kept your head low in all hope this would be your final time to ask. “i’m successful as an equestrian, i hope to be more so as a veterinarian. please let me continue. i don’t want to get married yet-”

“still holding onto it, y/n?” he scoffed and took quick glances at his surroundings. “i’ve done everything for you to be known, raised you to be the best rider out there-”

and he too, held with the same stupid reason. “no dad! i raised myself to be the best because heavens knows how much damage it’ll cost me if i failed you-”

“this is the last time i saying it, you’re never going to be one.”

“but dad! you know how badly i want to be a vet-” you whined and hoping you wouldn’t cry because you promised yourself you wouldn’t.

“y/n you’re marrying jaehyun solely for that reason!” he whisper-yelled, making your heart squeeze tight because you could see how your complaints have pissed him off. “he seemed to be agreeing with me after i invited him for tea.” he fixed his hair.

w-what did he just say?..

he loosened the top button of his shirt; his gaze still scared you like it did that night. he held his temples to reason out with you. “discipline yourself tonight. i do not want hear anything from you about this matter ever again.” the impact of his tone shattered you. not only your mood but with how you perceived jaehyun as a whole.

you couldn’t remember much afterwards, anger roamed around your head and as much you kept your composure, jaehyun has a sharp eye. you’ve been quiet since coming from the hallway, hours have passed too since your father called you upstairs.

“are you alright?” jaehyun leaned on the refrigerator while you took some fruits from it. figured that you were completely ignoring him, he grabbed your favourite sweater to snap you out of your clouded feelings. “are we doing the pact now?”

it was getting suffocating being next to him. the audacity of what he did disgusted you. “hey tell me-”

you shut the fridge’s door with much force, held your breath and went to the sink to wash them. “i’m not doing it. and what’s there to tell you? just because i opened up to you that doesn’t mean we’re already close.” you coldly answered with a irritated look.

jaehyun was abruptly taken back, his hand let go of your clothes. “why are you’re suddenly like this?”

you began washing the apples as well as peeling their skin. “you’re not born yesterday, jaehyun. this is my usual self.”

“no y/n, i’m not talking about-”

“what the hell is your deal?” jaehyun could hear you mumble even with the loud blasting of holiday playlists.

“i just want to know if we’re starting the argument,. it seems like you’re doing your part-”

“you knew all along, didn’t you?” the sound of peeling almost excruciating to your ears but nothing more than his reaction to your question. ‘that my dad would refuse my plead.”

painful as it was, his expression changed. he was colder than the snow outside, heartless as a predator and unresponsive like a dead man. he just stared at you straight, acknowledging it with soft wavers of his brown orbs.

and that alone was enough to break you to pieces.

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Long Nights - part 4

Neil x Reader

Chapter 4: World gone mad

(see chapter 3, 2, 1)

summary: inverted heist calls for inverted training

warnings: 18+, explicit language, gun mention, crackheadery, and possible whiplash

author’s note: Hi, yes, I know, took me ages, but hey, I hope it's worth the wait! 5.2k words, how even--

Anyway.

The song for this part is Bastille - World Gone Mad

Enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you think?

——————

Tag list: @cxnnienikas @neutron-stars-collision ​ @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @mellifluous-cosmos @wonderwoman292 @buckysgoldenheart @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

-----

The fact that you knew how to handle guns wasn’t equal to you being very good at it. Or enjoying it, for that matter. Sure, you could more or less hit the target, especially with some useful tips you got from Neil regarding a trigger finger discipline, but still - you’d rather avoid reaching for a pistol altogether.

You put back the weapon you’d been training with and Neil handed you another one. You couldn’t really tell the difference, at least until you checked the magazine. The lack of ammo meant you finally got to the fun bit that Neil teased in The Protagonist’s office and you smiled, looking back at your companion. He grinned at you, the gaze sparkling behind yellow-tinted safety glasses as he pointed at the wall next to the targets you used for practice.

“Just aim and pull the trigger. ” Seeing your nod, he added, “Okay now, be careful, it might feel--”

The bullet whizzed back into the chamber of your pistol and your eyes widened.

“Oh fuck me sideways,” you hissed under your breath.

“-- a bit weird, yeah.” Neil chuckled at the shock painted on your face. “All right?”

“Yeah, just processing.” Trying to blink the consternation away, you asked, “How do you make these? You put it into that...turnstile and voilà?”

Neil shook his head. “No, it’s not that simple. We receive a stash every now and then, we don’t know how to manufacture those,” - he smirked - “at least not yet. I do have a few theories I’m working on in my spare time, but...” hesitating for a moment, he raked a hand through his hair and sent you a nervous smile. “Wouldn’t want to bore you to death, though.”

“Dude, come on, with that smooth and soothing voice of yours? You could read the yellow pages to me and I’d still listen like that--” you mocked a dreamy heart-eyes expression, watching with satisfaction as that remark pushed Neil further into a flustered state.

Apparently, when explicit teasing got a little-to-no reaction now, you could still make him blush with a more wholesome compliment. As you started laughing, he rolled his eyes and scrunched the nose slightly, joining you with a stifled giggle. Grinning, you continued a little softer, “I’m not gonna lie - I probably wouldn’t understand a majority of the physics jargon, but I’d still want to hear all about that.”

A thankful look you got in return made your chest clench painfully, and your mind wandered off to those breaks near the river, and Neil’s animated rants. You knew one thing. Anyone who had ever ridiculed him for his passion for even the nerdiest things could rot in hell, and you’d gladly see to it personally.

A disgruntled huff coming from behind made you both snap out of the moment.

“Oi, lovebirds, I’d appreciate it if you could leave all that to after I prep you for the mission.”

Bottling down your annoyance, you batted your lashes at the commander, who’d just come back with keys to one of the conference rooms near the range.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, you have my full attention now.”

Ives nodded, waving at you to follow him. Meanwhile, Neil’s small smirk let you know that he noticed that faint undertone in your voice, but he said nothing, patiently waiting for the events to unfold.

Another person was waiting for you at the door. You recognized the woman who’d driven you to that abandoned factory on your very first day - you’d never gotten properly introduced, but you remember asking Neil about her once and he called her Wheeler. To be honest, with these guys you never knew if they used their real names, nicknames, codenames, or whatever. Not that you cared, quite used to it in your own line of business. You exchanged a court nod with her and went into the room.

As you sat down at the big table and Ives booted a projector, your eyes bore into the man. Definitely one of those types who enjoyed his beret and the paramilitary structure of the field branch of the organization. Probably a bit too much. You bit back a smug grin.

Those were particularly fun to mess with.

Ives caught your piercing stare and stopped the brief of the location.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you said, propping the chin on your palm, a polite smile on your lips. “It’s fascinating.”

He furrowed his brows, perplexed.

“What is?”

“How your commanding presence literally adds you inches,” you said, using all your willpower to keep a serious face. “I wonder if it works only for your height or--”

Neil’d futile attempts at masking an amused snort with a cough didn’t go unnoticed. Ives shot him daggers and then glared at you. “For fuck’s sake, would you focus?”

Your eyes flared up at the threat in his voice and you pouted, taunting him further.

“Or what, you’re gonna spank me?”

“No, I’m gonna shoot you,” he deadpanned.

You raised a brow.

“Kinky.”

Ives groaned, turning to Neil.

“How you survived this long without choking her is beyond me.”

Neil puffed his cheeks and gestured vaguely, but as he opened the mouth to answer, you chimed in, with a shit-eating grin plastered on your face.

“Oh, he very much did so, all right.”

The awkward silence that followed was pretty satisfying.

“Can we keep her?” asked Wheeler casually, leaned back in her chair, fiddling with a bullpen.

Ives gaped at you all, then slumped his shoulders in defeat, sliding a hand through his features. He was so done you could almost hear The Sound of Silence playing in the distance, but apparently, his sense of duty was stronger than the urge to leave you without finishing the briefing, so he just drew a deep breath and continued.

“...anyway…”

You caught Neil’s glance and you couldn’t help but poke the tip of your tongue out at him. The mischievous sparks in his eyes reflected your own as he shook his head, tugging the bottom lip between the teeth. Wheeler’s curious gaze flitted between you two, and as you didn’t feel like drawing too much unnecessary attention to yourself anymore, you focused on the plan that Ives was persistently going through.

Time frames. Blueprints. Entry points. Exit routes (you spotted at least one additional way he left out, but you weren’t sure if you could drag Neil through there, judging by that alley performance, so you didn’t bother to mention it out loud). Everything seemed clear enough. You still had no idea how being inverted would affect the lockpicking, but when you voiced that, Ives promised you some time to figure it out before the mission.

The mission. Huh. It wasn’t that much different from your usual assignments - at least if you forgot about that tiny insignificant detail like moving backwards in time - but something in this paramilitary and/or espionage vibe made your heart beat faster with excitement.

It had been quite a long time since you had company at the job. Working alone had its perks, but you wouldn’t mind a trusted partner in crime having your six for a change.

Another thing that you certainly wouldn’t mind - seeing Neil in tactical gear. Not that either of you would need one, but the image got planted in your head and suddenly you wished you’d had a bottle of water.

You realized that everyone was looking at you expectantly. Shit, was there a question or…?

“I’m good,” you said, shooting in the dark, hoping that would be enough to cover your distracted ass.

Ives squinted, but fortunately, that was an acceptable answer.

“Well, as you two can proceed straight from here - Wheeler, they’re all yours.’

“Okay,” - she smiled and stood up - “we don’t have any turnstiles on-site, but there’s one in the base outside the city, I’ll talk you through the basics on the way.”

So that little daydream cost you a chance to come back home to prepare? Grand. The problem was - you needed your heavy-duty tools, but you’d rather eat rocks than back away in front of Ives. Luckily, he called on Neil to wait for a moment, so that was your chance.

“Umm, Wheeler?” you asked quietly, following her outside.

She glanced at you curiously.

“What’s up?”

“I know I said I’m good, but could we stop by my apartment for a second, please?” An awkward grimace ran through your face. “I gotta pick up my tools. You know, just in case.”

She wasn’t surprised by your request. Moreover, she sent you a knowing smile.

“Sure thing,” she said and winked, and then it was your turn to present a slightly flushed face. “I’ve got you.”

----

You didn’t know what to expect from the whole inversion process.

The first time your brain stuttered was when Wheeler pointed at something she called the proving window, just in time for you to see the three of you coming out on the other side. You caught inverted-you glancing back at your present self; the schooled expression, but with the gaze shining with anticipation.

The second time was when it was you on the other side, looking at your wide-eyed past self. Feeling the incoming headache, you took a deep breath and followed Wheeler and Neil to the stand with oxygen masks.

“How are you feeling?” asked Neil, handing you the equipment.

“Weirdly normal.” You shrugged. “Or maybe not more backwards than usual, if that makes any sense.”

He smiled lightly.

“It’s the airlock. When you see the outside, you’ll get a whole new perspective.”

Wheeler nodded. “What he said. And to recap: you’re inverted, the world is not - all forces will be pushing back on you. Besides gravity.” She double-checked the oxygen bottle secured to your belt. “Just mind things that might be rising instead of falling.”

You furrowed the brows.

“Wait, didn’t Ives mention the rain?”

Neil smirked from behind the mask.

“Afraid of getting wet?”

“Never.” You grinned, meeting the sparkling blue eyes. “Should know that by now.”

Wheeler snorted and shook her head, walking to the panel near the exit.

“You’ll have plenty of time to finish the job before you move far enough to catch up on that. Although, if you ever find yourself in the inverted rain, here’s a tip: pop your collar.”

“Why would you--” Oh. The sole thought of the water going up from the ground to the sky made you nauseous. You swallowed with effort, leveling your breath in the mask. “...right.”

Wheeler opened the door and you almost gasped at the view. The golden rays of sunset (...or was it technically a sunrise now?) flickered on the training grounds’ equipment as the sky painted the scarce pools of muddy water with greyish violets and reddening oranges. Leaves shuffled in the wind, their dance almost satirical with that inverted spin.

Wheeler’s voice stopped your mind from wandering further into the landscape.

“Okay, ready? Ives asked me to remind you not to try any cowboy shit, you need to be in one piece at the end of the training.”

“Yes ma’am,” you mocked a salute and stepped outside, stretching your limbs, readjusting to the reality being slightly off. Neil stood right beside you watching you warming up, ready to take you to the obstacles section.

But as soon as the airlock’s doors closed behind you, you spun around, tapping his shoulder - “Tag, you’re it!” - and without waiting for his reaction, you leaped towards the assault course.

Surely that turned out overly optimistic. You counted on the element of surprise and a head start, but Neil had an experience with running while being inverted, while you… well. You tried.

“B+ for effort,” laughed Neil, catching up on you even before you reached the first obstacle and tapping you back. “But you can do better than that.”

“Just you wait!” you retorted and vaulted over a low hurdle, the mild confusion caused by the dumbfounded senses slowly eased up as you tuned out the brain and let the muscle memory guide your movements. Because hey, in the end? Yes, the natural forces were acting up against you. Yes, Neil had years of inverted training behind him. But you’d been challenging different obstacles your whole life, and courses like this one were your favourite playgrounds.

You caught on him by the next wall, playing dirty and tugging at his leg, pulling him down before he could jump to the other side. The exasperated huff he gave you in protest got lost in the squelch of mud under your feet, the sound more like a suction instead of the much-expected splash. Shuddering with disgust at such abomination, you rushed to the set of monkey bars, hearing Neil following up closely. You gritted your teeth, swinging your body to help yourself get through the part, and that’s when you felt a light tap on your foot.

You glared to your left, where Neil was gaining an advantage over you.

“Damn you and your infinite legs, man! It doesn’t count!”

“Losing looks good on you,” he said, landing and then instantly ducking under your reached out hand.

“Too bad it’s not gonna stick,” you scoffed as you ran after him to jump on one of the parallel logs. Balancing was easy enough, even with inversion; it gave you the perfect opportunity to plan ahead, while Neil had to maintain full focus. “Must say - all that sass definitely makes you like... ten percent hotter.”

But you’d taught him well, apparently, and instead of losing his pace, he only shot you a quick glance accompanied by an arched brow.

“Only ten?”

“Dunno, come over here and let me take a closer look,” you teased, getting a short chuckle in response. “No?” - you sighed - “Alrighty then.” And you leaped to the side straight into Neil, pushing him off the log. He yelped and grabbed you by the shirt, the momentum sending you both straight into the mud. You landed on top of Neil, collapsing into his arms for a moment to catch a breath and to stop laughing.

You leaned back to look him in the eyes.

“Okay, maaaybe fifteen,” you panted, booping his mask as you would do to his nose.

Neil snickered and nodded.

“I’ll take it.”

When your gazes met, his features softened, and he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear gently. You smiled behind the mask and sat up, straddling his waist. Neil was studying you closely, his hands grazed your sides and rested on your hips. Nibbling at your bottom lip, you leaned over him again and slowly reached out, and--

“Simba…” you choked out with reverence, brushing a muddy thumb across his forehead.

Tears from the held-back laughter threatened to spill any second as you observed Neil blanking out in utter confusion. The five stages of grief ran through his expression and then he closed his eyes and sighed theatrically.

“The fate of the world is in the hands of a complete madwoman.”

...the what now?

You tilted your head, grinning.

“Aren’t you a little dramatic?”

Then, without a warning, Neil shifted under you, rolling you off him and pinning you down.

“Birds of a feather and all that,” he said, clearly enjoying the way you squealed and squirmed as the mud got under your shirt. “You think you got a hang of the inverted movement already?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. Neil realized your intentions a second too late. A handful of mud splashed on his face and you chuckled with satisfaction. “Yeah, now I think I’m ready to go.”

You turned up at the airlock soon after, looking like something that cat dragged in, but beaming widely. Dreaming of a hot shower and a clean set of clothes, you put down the mask and the oxygen container and headed to the turnstile.

Wheeler was waiting for you near the machine, and seeing the state you were in, she just gaped at you both, trying to come up with an adequate question.

As you noticed her quizzical look, you gave her a thumbs up and smiled.

“If you ain't dirty, you ain't here to party! Wooo!” you whooped, throwing your hands up and trotting past her straight into the turnstile.

Right before reverting yourself back to your original state, you heard Wheeler’s hushed question.

“You two all right?”

And then Neil’s answer.

“Don’t worry, we���re good.”

--------

The truck’s engine hummed steadily, which could only mean you were on some sort of highway. At least the container stopped wobbling, so you could practice in peace.

No wobbles meant no excuses, though. You sighed, readjusting your grip on the tools.

Neil had fallen asleep some time ago, after making sure you figured out the locks and hearing your solemn promise that you would follow him soon.

One day after that eventful night, then inverting and going straight back without proper sleep. You knew he was right and you needed at least a nap. But you couldn’t. Not before you were absolutely sure you got it. The usual locks weren’t that bad. The inverted ones were a whole other story.

It’d taken you long enough to crack them in the safety of your own apartment, without the weird physics, ever-present even within the air-locked container. Without the pressure.

The fate of the world.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You didn’t even know what was that thing you were supposed to retrieve soon. It was okay, you didn’t need to. It was a quite common situation in your work history. That kind of knowledge could be dangerous, after all.

The pin clicked and you sighed again, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the burning sensation even for a moment.

Besides, you were doing it for Neil. The memory of that panicked look on his face when he’d seen the documents was enough to keep you going.

But did he have to say that?

You had to do it. Not only because you felt responsible for him, in a way. What you’d told the boss was true and you weren’t the only one at fault for Neil not being fully ready for that assignment. He was your friend, wasn’t he? And there was no way you’d leave a friend in need.

You pressed your lips together, forcing yourself to breathe.

Probably a stupid joke, nothing more.

But what if he was being serious? What if that thing out there was really that important? And you were about to fuck everything up because you couldn’t get your shit together fast enough to figure out the bloody inverted mechanism again. And with every minute wasted and not spent on resting there was a higher chance of messing up at the actual location.

Hell of a locksmith you were, huh?

The feedback from the tools came with a final warning like a sobering slap. If you were to continue, they would snap any second now.

You let out a shaky breath and retraced from the lock, hiding your face in the palms.

A gentle touch on your shoulder almost made you flinch. Of course, he had to wake up in the middle of your breakdown.

“Go back to sleep, we still have a few hours left,” you muttered into your hands, trying to collect yourself.

“Not before you talk to me,” said Neil as his fingers slid down your arm. He was crouching right beside you, the blue eyes boring into you with concern. “What is it?”

You sighed and shifted in your seat to face him.

“Wanna make sure I got it, that’s all.”

Neil’s brows knitted together.

“But I saw you open that lock once, why--”

“Once! And that’s exactly the problem!” you fumed and glared at the table. “I can’t crack it again, I--” your voice wavered and you gritted the teeth in frustration. “What if it was a stroke of dumb luck? Should I start praying for another one to happen there?”

Another delicate touch, this time on your knees, was enough to make you look back at Neil. A shade of smile tainted his lips as he searched your gaze.

“Someone used to tell me all the time that if you did it once, you can do it again.”

You hung your head and huffed, “Maybe that someone was full of shit.’

“I know for a fact that she wasn’t,” he chuckled, taking the tools out of your clenched fists and putting them back at the table. “She was utterly brilliant,” he continued, reaching for your cramping, trembling hands and taking them in his, ”and always reminded me to take a break instead of agonizing over a stubborn lock.”

That you did, all right. Your laugh sounded awfully close to a sob. God, if you weren’t exhausted.

Mustering enough strength to look him in the eyes, you squeezed his hands, trying to convey all the gratitude in the gesture. And hide that bit of embarrassment, too.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said and his thumbs brushed over your knuckles. “Scoot over.”

You moved back on the provisional bench, making enough space for him to sit next to you. And so he did, not letting go of your hands even for a second. He started rubbing small circles into them and you grunted softly. Neil gave you a knowing smile and soon enough, his fingers glided between your forearms and fingertips, applying pressure to the tensest places, careful strokes and precise moves bringing a much-needed release. You couldn’t help small groans escaping your mouth, every one of them adding to the self-satisfied grin hiding in the corner of Neil’s mouth. But then, instead of teasing you, his features softened and you caught his glance, warm and sheepish.

“I don’t think I properly thanked you for offering to help me with this mission.”

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun,” you laughed and winced as Neil’s thumbs worked on your wrists. “Don’t thank me yet, we still need to pull it off first.”

“Well, maybe we already have, from the typical point of view,” - he pondered, lighting up - “seeing that we are moving back--”

“Neil, please, I’m all for discussing it later, but right now it’s about to give me a pounding headache.”

When you met his eyes, you noted with relief that he didn’t mind you cutting him off like that. He knew that you were tired, nothing more.

“Right, sorry.” Then he looked at you with determination, suddenly serious. “Whatever happens… thank you. It means a lot.”

“Of course,” you said quietly as your heart ached with unexpected fondness.

Neil smiled, shaking off the sentimental moment. His hands cupped yours and gave them a light squeeze.

“Now would you please get some rest?”

“Will you tuck me in?” you grinned and batted your lashes at him, earning an amused snort in return.

“I can even sing you a lullaby if that means you’ll fall asleep faster,” he said, standing up and tugging at your hand.

“Ah, I’m afraid I’m gonna crash too fast to properly appreciate it,” you giggled as he kited you all the way to the resting area at the front of the container. “But I’m definitely taking a rain check on that.”

“Sure.” One final brush of his thumb over your fingers and he let go of your hand, smirking. “Now sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

-------

Neil proved to be an excellent companion.

You disabled the alarms simultaneously, paying attention to all the possible silent traps. Forcing the main locks went smoothly, almost surprisingly so. For having something of such importance hidden there, the owners of the place seemed strangely old-fashioned; it shone through the antique decor of the lofty apartment as well as the security choices. Too easy. Tuning out an intrusive thought rattling in the back of your head, you scouted the dark rooms, careful not to leave any traces of your presence.

There.

The office you saw in the photos.

...but they’d redecorated.

“That’s one fancy safe they got there,” you said nonchalantly, eyeing the ornament piece of metal lit by your flashlight, “Too bad it somehow got left out at the briefing.”

Neil’s face dropped when he followed you inside the room.

“Christ, and what now?”

Good question. You’d worked with safes before, hell, you’d cracked a fair share of them using simply manipulation. But never going bloody backwards in time. How would that even work? Was it normal or inverted?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

“I’ve got this.” And that’s how you felt, despite the initial panic. There was a method to it, and you had most of the things you needed with you. Perks of overpreparing. The only issue was-- ... “It might take a while, though.”

Neil nodded.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Keep an eye on the time for me, I gotta focus,” you said, reaching into your backpack and accidentally pulling on the thin tube. Right. “...and maybe on the oxygen levels as well?”

“Will do.”

Your brain switched into the challenge mode, and your fingers tingled to give it a try. Armed with a sound amplifier and a little notepad, you sat down next to the safe and got to work.

Figuring out your way in was meant to be a hit and miss, doubly so with the goddamn inversion. But minute after minute, click by click, you determined the first contact points, and the years of experience took you from there. You scribbled numbers and variations in the notepad, fully focused on the task. Almost there.

Another combination. Inhale. Exhale. Pull.

Gotcha.

“Neil?” you called out in the hushed voice as the beam from the flashlight landed on a small metal box of a peculiar shape.

He was next to you in no time.

“That’s it,” he said, kneeling down. He reached inside and took out the box, then carefully placed it inside his backpack. The blue eyes glimmered in the dim light. “Good job!”

“Thanks,” you smiled and closed the safe. “Now let’s get out of here.”

You gathered and packed all your stuff, double-checking for any leftover signs of your entry.

Then you heard it. A faint, slightly off patter against the huge windows. You froze in place as your mind tried to grasp the view of trickles of rain coming up the glass.

Neil glanced outside, not mindful of the absolutely bonkers scene that wiped any coherent thought from your head. Although judging from how quickly his face lost all the colours, the view he got was even more disturbing.

“Christ…” he uttered, shooting you a panicked look. “We’ve got company.”

You dashed to the window to see for yourself. A group of people was crossing the empty street, moving pretty much normally, and that only meant...

Fuck.

“The owners?”

Neil shook his head. “Impossible. The third party, probably.” With his hand already on the holster, he hesitated, considering the options.

But there were only two: fight or flight. The problem was - the numbers didn’t look good for you to try pushing through the crew downstairs. And as for the second one, your initial exit routes seemed to be cut off already.

Although, there was still one path left. You almost smiled to yourself. He was not going to like it.

“Let’s go through the roofs.”

Neil’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?” he asked, scanning your face for any sign of doubt.

There was none.

“Yes, but we have to leave right now.”

He swallowed with effort and nodded.

As soon as you bolted out of the apartment and rushed up the stairs, the footsteps coming from the lower levels quickened. Time was running out.

You were about to barge outside when Neil grabbed your hand as if he sensed what was going to happen next. The doors opened and you lost the momentum, startled by the view. Heavy showers replaced the drizzle you saw through the window, intensifying the nauseating effect.

The last strands of sanity threatened to leave you, but Neil’s touch was like an anchor, grounding you and keeping you from spiraling further.

“Which way?” he shouted through the hammering, almost deafening rain.

You blinked rapidly and looked around to match the data from the brief to the actual location.

“Over there!”

Wishing you’d had a goddamn collar to pop, you leaped to the side, guiding Neil through your only escape route. You let go of his hand to vault over the vents, and just as your feet touched the surface again, you heard distant yells behind you. Shit.

The high density of the area was working in your favor, but only for so long. There was meant to be a gap between the buildings sooner or later, and one of them was coming right up. The jump was doable, even for Neil - all you needed was speed and a decent launch.

But when your companion noticed the edge of the roof, he slowed down and stopped by a low parapet wall, cursing.

“No fucking way!”

“Yes fucking way, Neil, come on! We don’t have time!” you urged him as the voices behind you grew louder.

He swallowed with effort, too transfixed on the gap. You bit back an impatient groan and grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to look at you.

“Neil, listen to me. You can do this. All you need is a run-up.”

He didn’t seem convinced. You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your own rising panic in check.

“Do you trust me? Yes or no?”

He met your eyes and his features hardened. There.

“I do.”

And when you opened the mouth again, the first bullet whizzed past you. You flinched, but maintained the eye contact, afraid to lose Neil’s newfound confidence. “Then go first, I’m right behind you.”

Neil nodded and backed away quickly. Watching him jump, your heart skipped a beat, but he landed on the other side without too much trouble. Good. Your turn.

You dashed towards the rim and another bullet missed your legs by a hair’s breadth, hitting the parapet wall right ahead of you. A little close to the top, as you noted, jumping on it to leap across the gap.

But the realization came a moment too late. The wall crumbled under your feet.

Enough for you to not make it to the other side.

Someone screamed.

Was it you?

It didn’t matter.

The world dissolved in a flash of agonizing pain.

And darkness.

----

Static beeping. The smell of disinfectants. And your every particle throbbing in dull pain.

Somebody was having a quiet conversation nearby. The Protagonist… and Neil?

A wave of relief flooded over you. He’d made it.

Grunting, you opened your eyes and squinted, waiting for your sight to readjust to the poor light. Weird. Why would they keep you in such a pitch-black room?

“Gents?” you called out, carefully shifting upwards, wincing. “Would you mind getting the lights?”

The conversation stopped and you heard a gasp.

“Lights? But it’s the middle of the day?” said The Protagonist, but Neil cut him off.

“You’re awake!” Footsteps and a sudden touch on your hand. Neil’s voice trembled slightly, as well as his fingers. “Are you okay?”

You bored into darkness, hoping to see the familiar face.

To see anything.

To see.

(next chapter ->)

[fandomsonrequests]

keep in touch

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: spiderman!yunho

reader: gn!blackcat

word count: 2.7k+

summary: life as spider-man is sometimes never easy- especially when your past catches up to you.

notes: spiderman au, somewhat loyal to black cat’s plotline, some angst

a/n: if ever you’re unfamiliar with black cat in the marvel universe, basically she was a criminal that dated peter parker. here’s her page if you wanna read more about her. she’s a really cool character :D

Yunho sighs as he settles down onto a building’s rooftop edge. He momentarily rips off his mask, allowing himself to breathe after swinging around the city in his suit. The cool night breeze brushes against his dark hair as his eyes take in the sight of the city’s multiple lights, flashing in different fluorescent colors. 

[Another day, another crime solved right Yunho?] 

Mingi’s voice came into the hero’s intercom along with the slurping noise of a drink going through a straw. The slightly taller male chuckled, somewhat tiredly, as he leaned back onto his arm with his feet dangling along the edge. 

“I can’t believe Kingpin managed to smuggle truckloads of those weapons.” He recounts as he runs a hand down his face. “Who was it for again? The Demons?”

[It was actually for The Underground. Which is ironic because they hate his guts.] 

“I’m not sure what they want from him or vice versa but we should keep an eye on them. I don’t have a good feeling about their arrangement.” 

[That’s what I’m here for- the guy in the chair to keep watch on stuff you can’t.] Mingi chuckled. [Well anyway- I’m gonna shower, dude. I’ll see you back at home.] 

“Leave some food for me, please. I don’t wanna have to eat frozen pizza again.” Yunho grunts as he gets up on his feet, pulling his mask down back over his face. 

His best friend assures him to leave out some of the dinner, brought to them by their other friend Wooyoung because God knows neither of them could cook, before leaving the channel on the intercom. Yunho brushes off the dirt from the back of his thighs as he prepares to swing back home when he spots movement in the corner of his eye. At first, he thought it was just some flock of pigeons that escaped from their coop again. But when he turned his spider senses started tingling; that, and because that movement happened to be a single figure. The figure leaps across the building swiftly and silently before dropping down onto the dome roof of the fancy art museum nearby.

Yunho sighed, thinking that its probably an Underground member or one of The Demons from the way a stream of light trailed behind them. But as he swung closer, his gut told him it wasn’t just his average, run of the mill criminal. He had a feeling that they were much more… sophisticated than the Underground or the Demons. 

He landed with a barely audible thud on the glass dome of the art museum. His mask adjusts to the darkness inside the museum, eye lenses shifting and tilting so he could see clearer. After a while of scanning from his position, nobody seemed to appear. “Huh,” he huffs when there seemingly was no one. “Where are they?”

The man crawled his way over to one of the vents of the building before slipping inside and quickly making his way into the museum. He lands with a thud onto the linoleum floor, a variety of paintings and sculptures displayed in every direction. “I mean I get why some of these paintings are here but some of these abstract ones seem a little silly…” he tells himself when he observes a framed piece with a yellow background and a black square in the middle. 

He goes up to the main piece, which is smacked right in the middle of the floor, covered in glass while a velvet rope keeps people from going too close to it. It was a famous portrait made by an old, and I mean old, European artist that was probably around in the Renaissance era. It was meant to be on display for a while before being shipped back to the Louvre. 

“You’re probably here for this, aren’t you?” Yunho called out to no one in particular. “If you are, I highly suggest you stop before I catch you. But if you still want to ignore me, I’d rather we take it outside. I don’t want to break anything in here.”

“That’s never stopped you before though,” a voice responded making him jump a little in surprise. “But then again, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you, Spidey.” 

Chills ran down Yunho’s back at the familiarity of the voice. The voice he was once, maybe still is, so enamored by. The one that whispered the most filthiest to the most comforting words in his ear. 

“_____,” He starts, hoping his voice wasn’t as shaky as he had anticipated. “Still into art, I see.” 

You emerge from the shadows behind the large painting, a devilish smirk on your plump lips. Your clawed gloves trailed along the intricate curves of the painting’s golden frame. Your gaze pierced his, like a predator locked onto its prey. You step forward, hands drumming against the glass that kept you two separated. 

“Still into saving people, hm?” You hum, smirk growing wider. “You never change, Yunho.”

“I thought you left this… ‘business’ long ago?” Yunho presses on, determined to not fall under your spell again. 

Deep down, the poor boy was still head over heels for you. He’s created so many memories with you, grew as a person because of you. There were nights where he’d sometimes think of you, how you fit so comfortably in his arms. Or when you hugged him from behind in the morning, hair all over the place with the cutest pout on your lips. He missed telling you how much he loved you most of all. 

“You know me, baby, old habits die hard.” You reply with a small chuckle as you move to take the painting off the hook. But he could tell that you were hiding something from the way your shoulders tensed for a fraction and how your confident smile faltered. 

“_____, please, put that back. You don’t have to resort to this kind of thing anymore.” Yunho begged while looking for a way to get into the glass box. How the hell did you slip in there anyway?

Your smile returns but it’s tight-lipped, almost forced. You sigh, head turned down and lip caught between your teeth. You turned to look over at him but your hand never left the picture frame, showing that you were still hellbent on taking it for yourself. Despite the mask you had on, Yunho could see the signs of a troubled person through your eyes. 

“If we weren’t in this kind of setting right now I’d probably be already swooning into your arms,” You chuckled as you tried to make light of the situation. “I appreciate the concern, Yunho. I really do. But this time… I just can’t turn away.” 

And before your former lover could say anything you had already thrown down a pellet, causing the glass box to be filled with smoke. As soon as the smoke cleared, you and the painting were nowhere in sight. Yunho looked around, adrenaline rushing through his veins once more, and caught a glimpse of the light that emitted from your gear from the top of the building. 

Wasting no time, he shot out his web and swung after you, following the trail of fluorescent lights you left behind. He watched as you skillfully jumped from rooftop to rooftop with the painting in one arm. You moved slower with the object in hand but nonetheless, you still managed to always be one step ahead of him. 

You glance behind you when you felt that someone was chasing you and groaned inwardly. Although, part of you, the one that was still soft for Yunho, was quite impressed that he still managed to chase after you.

“Back off Spidey!” You call out to him, managing to evade a web that he shot at you to restrain you. “Don’t make this difficult.”

“The only one making this difficult is you, _____!” He replied as he scanned for a path that would lead him right to you. 

Suddenly, his comms open and a voice filters through. 

[Dude you were supposed to be home five minutes ago. Why are you going further away from the apartment?] Mingi asks with a confused tone.

“I sort of ran into trouble,” Yunho grunts as he pulled himself to the next building. “It’s _____.”

He could hear his friend splutter behind the comms. [ The _____? As in Black Cat _____?] 

“Yes, them. Can you help-” Yunho gets cut off when something hits him in the chest, momentarily stinging him and jamming his comms as a wave of electricity runs through him. He stumbles back against the roof of a building, his web-shooters momentarily malfunctioning. He looked up to see you blow a flying kiss before continuing on down your path. 

He sighs to himself. “Well, I guess we’re going to have to do this the hard way…” 

Yunho may not have his web-shooters right now but he still had the agility and reflexes of a spider. He jumped and crawled from one building to the next as he trailed after you, still hot on your tail. 

“You never know when to quit, do you?” You say when you notice that he was still after you. It was once amusing but now, it was starting to get on your nerves. Especially since you were on a tight schedule with your… client. 

“I mean that’s how I ended up with you.” He retorts as he jumped from an antenna down to the glass roof of a condominium’s greenhouse. “You played hard to get and I played along with you.”

[You’re back online.] Mingi suddenly butted in to notify his friend.

Yunho took this as an opportunity to catch you off guard and literally catch you in his webs. He shot out short but consecutive bursts of webs towards you, making you stumble on your path and fall towards an apartment building roof. The painting clatters out of your hand and skids across the floor. 

The young man took this as a chance to catch you, webbing both of your hands to the concrete floor before you could get up. He lands by your feet, opting to take the painting first before you could escape. You struggle to free yourself from your bonds, glaring up at him. 

“The webs will dissolve in an hour,” Yunho informs you as he walked towards you. He didn’t want to resort to this but you were just too stubborn. “I’m going to let you off once, but only if you tell me why you’re doing this.”

You stopped struggling and suddenly smirked up at him. “Awe, at least I know that you still have a soft spot for me.” You tease, crossing your legs together despite your compromising position.

[Are they really flirting with you right now?] Mingi asks in disbelief. [Dude- that’s like some spy movie shit.]

“Not now Mingi,” Yunho whispers over to his comms but your ears manage to pick up what he said. 

“Hi Mingi!” You call out from your spot on the floor. “Hope you’re doing well.” 

[Did they just-]

“_____, please. You can trust me. Why are you doing this?” Yunho asks you, removing his mask to prove his point. 

Your breath hitches momentarily. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, a few years in fact, but he still managed to sweep you off your feet. “All I’ll say is that something from my past has caught up with me. And whether or not I liked this job- it’s something I couldn’t just turn down without losing something as a consequence.”

“Is someone forcing you to do this?” He asks as he steps closer to you. 

You, on the other hand, decided to flip tables. While Yunho was distracted with interrogating you, you had managed to cut bits of the webs on your wrists with your clawed gloves. As soon as he was in proximity with you, you kicked up your feet and tore your hands way from the floor. Yunho toppled to the ground with you on top of him, knees pinning his legs to the floor while your hands held his wrists down. 

“Hm, it’s been a while since we’ve been in this kind of position.” You tease, leaning over him to grab the painting. You chuckle at the way a beautiful red shade dusts his cheeks, his furious blush traveling all the way up to his ears. 

[Oh, man. I’m not listening to this.] Mingi resigns before logging off of his comms, leaving Yunho alone with his thoughts and you. 

“... does this have something to do with your family..?” He guessed, hoping that you’d let down your walls around him. 

Your jaw clenches at the mention of your family. That’s when Yunho knew that you were in trouble. He knew how much you loved your family and what they meant to you. Hell, he loved your family too. They welcomed him like he was their own son when the two of you were dating back then. 

“______- please. You can trust me. I can help you with, with whatever the hell this is.” He whispered up to you. 

Silence surrounds the both of you. Your brows are furrowed as you look down at the man under you. You can see in his eyes that he was genuine, sincere in wanting to help you. He still loved you and you could see that in his gaze. And it tore at your heartstrings to see that he still felt something for you despite what you did to him back then. When you worked under Kingpin to get some powers from him so that you wouldn’t become a liability to Yunho and when you teamed up with Hammerhead to take him down later on. 

Your anger and bitterness from your break up with Yunho and your drive to prove yourself worthy in the criminal underworld brought him so much pain and yet— here he was ready to drop everything to help you. A person who not only crushed his heart, but pieced it back together only to break it again. 

You hadn’t realized that you were crying until you felt a hand brush your cheek. You flinch at the contact, backing away from Yunho and getting up from the floor. Yunho didn’t miss a beat and stood up after you. “_____,” He sighed and approached you. He took one more step towards you when you didn’t move away. 

“...why are you doing this..?” You ask him when he was right in front of you. This time, when he reached up to cup your cheek again, you didn’t pull away. You instinctively leaned into his touch, a small sigh escaping your lips. 

Yunho flashes you his signature smile. The dorky, lopsided that smile that never failed to lift your spirits. “Aside from the fact that I’m still head over heels for you,” He chuckled softly. “It’s the right thing to do. I know you’ve tried quitting this lifestyle before, and I can help you get things back to normal. But you just have to put your faith in me. There are other ways to go about things.” 

You release a heavy sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you let his words sink in. “Fine,” You say after a while. And you swear his grin grew wider. “Only if you let me off this once.”

“A deal’s a deal, baby.” He says but snatches the portrait away from using his webs. “But we’re gonna have to put this back.” 

Now it was your turn to smile. You shake your head and chuckle at him, fingers trailing up his arm to pinch his cheek. “Whatever you say Spidey.” You purr, leaning in to kiss the corner of his lips. 

He freezes up at the sudden action, his blush returning to his cheeks. He only reacts when you toss his mask back at him, already backing away from the rooftop. “I’ll see you around~” 

You blow a kiss at him and hop off the ledge of the building, traveling back to your home. Yunho watched as your figure disappeared into the night, the weight of your lips still lingering against his skin. As he reached up to touch the part you kissed, he looked down at the painting you had stolen. It was still safe, thankfully, but a sticky note was plastered onto it. 

Here’s my number. Keep in touch xoxo

[fairyoftbz]

[06:20]

🎄 Day 11 of the Christmas project🎄

“I’m off to work, honey,” Sunwoo whispered as it was still quite early in the morning. You groaned in your sleep but turned around to lazily wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s neck to drag him closer. “You’re going already?” you tiredly mumbled as he softly giggled, lovingly kissing you on the cheek. ”Sadly I am, but I promise to come home earlier than last night,” he said, his low morning voice still laced with sleep although he woke up an hour ago. “Okay, love you,” you said as you let go of your boyfriend, who gently tamed down your bed hair before pecking your forehead. “I love you too, darling,” he said as he walked out of your shared bedroom, smiling to himself as he heard you turn around and go back to sleep.

Boy, he wished to have you in his arms right now, but work was calling him. He could barely keep his eyes open as the elevator went down, the ‘ding’ of the machine forcing him to wake up and start with his day. You allowed yourself to sleep past your alarm since your body needed some rest after the intense week you’ve just had. You took the morning off until 2 pm because today was a special day; your mission was to pick up Sunwoo’s Christmas present. He has no idea what you were getting him for Christmas, probably expecting some video games or a new bottle of his favourite perfume, but he was so wrong. On the rare occasions where you could spend your evening together, Sunwoo would rest his head on your stomach while scrolling through TikTok, his discovery page filled with cute videos, especially puppies. The number of videos of animals playing around or being cute was unimaginable. Between messages asking him at what time he was coming home and that you missed or loved him, your conversation was him feeding you with puppy content, so this planted an idea in your head. You’d get him one. That sounded like a great idea, plus I’d make you both become more responsible by taking care of an animal, as well as some company when lonely nights hit a little too close to home. Boxer was a dog breed that was quite redundant in the videos that your boyfriend always sent you. You had to admit that they were adorable, and it was getting harder for you not to want this kind of dog.

So before overthinking and reconsidering your decision, you get dressed up and walk out the door, swirling your car keys in hand before unlocking it by a swift click. Rubbing your hands together before setting them on the steering wheel, you let out a happy squeal and started the engine, excitedly driving to your destination. A few weeks ago, on a morning where your tired boyfriend got a day off and was soundly sleeping next to you, you were scrolling on the Internet to check the shelters in the neighbourhood. They all had cute animals, and you would adopt all of them if you could, but still no sign of a puppy that caught your eyes. After calling dozens and dozens of pet shelters, you finally found your sacred place. It was two hours away from where you lived, but you finally found a stray boxer who had given birth to three beautiful puppies. Refusing to buy an animal from a pet store, your task of finding the breed you were looking for was quite hard but ended up being successful.

“Oh hello!” the shelter owner greeted you as you pulled up to the place, locking your car before heading inside with the lady leading the way. “Your little boy is here,” she said as she gestured to a cage, hearing some claws, and yapping on the other side of the fence. You had come there a few days prior, so the little man must have recognised you, excitingly wriggling his small tail as you appeared in sight. “Hi! Hi baby, do you recognise me? What a good boy,” you said in your sweetest voice, the puppy stretching its small body to try and lick your face. You giggled as you avoided his scratchy tongue, gently petting him on the head as you tried to calm him down. Holding him in such a cute way that his little feet dangle in the air, you walked with the owner near the checkout to do some administrative work.

After a few more minutes of chatting with the woman in front of you and walking around the store to make your puppy say goodbye to his friends, you were out of the shelter, unlocking your car as it was trying to eat your dangling earring. “Oh my god, stop!” you laughed as you gently pulled the metal out of your puppy’s mouth, placing him in the little basket you had prepared for him before heading out of your house. He whined as you closed the door, carefully watching you walk around the car to sit in the passenger seat. The journey back home was a bit chaotic, the pup was trying to explore the world now that he was out of his former home. Controlling him while driving wasn’t the safest thing in the world, but you finally made it back home in one piece, with the Christmas gift for your loved one. 

“Alright buddy let me prepare your little home, okay?” you said as you placed him on the floor, him immediately running around and sniffing everything. You hurriedly went to the cellar to get out everything that you had bought for the dog, setting everything between the couch and the wall for the moment, a quiet, discreet spot so Sunwoo wouldn’t see it when he first enters the room. You spent the rest of the afternoon taking care of the new member of the family, whose name you decided to be Choco. It wasn’t the most original thing in the world, but he was as dark as chocolate, the white areas on its body reinforcing the chocolate-milk look. Excitingly standing up when you heard the front door of your apartment open, keys being tossed on the table next to the entrance. Choco wanted to follow you, but you gestured to him to stay at his spot and hurried to the hall.

“Hi babe,” you greeted your boyfriend with a wide smile, wrapping your arms around him as he just took off his jacket. ”Oh, hi love,” he said in a breath before squeezing you tight against him, laying soft kisses on your temple. You unwillingly pulled away from the warm embrace and took Sunwoo’s hand to stop him from moving as he was about to go and rest on the couch.

“What’s up?” he asked with his eyebrows raised. You clutched his hand as you stood in front of him, caressing his chin with a smile. ”There’s your Christmas present in the living room,” you whispered, and his eyes widened even more, him suddenly letting go of your hand. ”But-“ “I know, Christmas is still in more than a week, but it was the only moment I could pick it up to have it on time,” you said, Sunwoo turning around to stare in the direction of the living room. Your little Choco started getting quite impatient of being ignored, so he yapped, the small sound making your boyfriend gasp as he looked at you, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ in excitement.

“No, Y/N. No, you didn’t,” he said, voice filled with hope as you followed him, pacing down the corridor. “Love,” he said in a breath, standing in the doorway, his face showing all the surprise and affection he could have in his body. ”Merry Christmas,” you said with a smile, and his eyes followed the small puppy, who was curiously walking towards the two of you. “Meet Choco,” Sunwoo cooed as he bent over to pick it up, the small creature starting to excitedly smell and lick your boyfriend, the action making your lover laugh. ”Y/N, you’re the best,” Sunwoo muttered as he petted the dog’s head, sneaking his free arm around your waist to draw you closer to him. You snuggled up against his chest, and he pecked the crown of your head, his hand lovingly rubbing your shoulder.

Feeling something wet landing on your hand, you quickly looked down and saw the dog wanting attention as Sunwoo stopped petting it. You gently rubbed its short fur on the head and looked up, only to find your boyfriend smirking at you. “I feel like this little dude is going to steal all the attention from my lovely partner,” giggling at your boyfriend’s words, you took the puppy and placed it down on the couch before walking back to him. You stood on your tiptoes and cupped his cheeks, fervently pressing your lips against his in a long, lingering kiss. Out of instinct, the man wrapped his arms around your waist and deepening the kiss, feeling him smile against your lips. The puppy repeatedly yapped as it was finding the kiss too long, making you both chuckle before pulling away, your boyfriend nestling his head in the crook of your neck.

You internally applauded yourself for choosing such a cute gift for your boyfriend as the evening rolled by. You had just finished eating dinner that you had cooked together, despite Sunwoo being exhausted from his schedule. Resting now on the couch watching TV, the puppy was whining from the leg of the sofa, wanting to be in between the two of you. Your boyfriend was laying on the side with his hand supporting his head, while your hand was lingering in his neck, sometimes caressing the warm skin. Sunwoo took one of the toys that were resting on the coffee table and wriggled it in front of Choco’s face, who barked while stretching its little boy, trying to get it. The little pointy teeth started showing, the puppy desperately trying to reach his source of amusement. You giggled as the puppy whined, only to have your boyfriend picking it up from the floor to place it on your laps. After sniffling your legs to check that it was a safe place, Choco laid down, not caring about the toy anymore as it rested its head on your forearm, eyes closing.

Sunwoo pouted as it preferred your warm legs rather than playing with him, only to have him scooting closer and rest his head against your stomach. You replaced the puppy a bit further on your laps to make space for your boyfriend, hand gently carding through his soft locks as he hummed.

“I can’t wait to raise this puppy with him,” you thought as you brought your attention back to the television, noticing only minutes later that the two boys resting on your body were now dead asleep, one of them snoring, stifling a laugh when you couldn’t tell who it was coming from.

[hotwings0203]

Hehehe I'm back! Loll these ideas of how Muslim Dabi would fluster you have been burning my brainnn and I totally blame you😫✋

Anyways so omg okay, I could totally see Muslim Dabi doing that thing where the guy pulls the girls dupatta to make her fall back into his chest pull as the girl turns to walk away, and he would like put his hand on your lower back or waist and lean down by your ear and just whisper about how you look so pretty today and how he can't wait to see you as his bride

Also! I could totally see him like playing with your churiyan or bangles and just touching your hand and wrist, tangling his fingers with yours and just teasing you about how your hands fit his so well, how he can't wait to put a wedding ring on you

Oh! If your churiyan get stuck to his clothes, he would totally milk that situation by standing just a little to close while you try to untangle your churiyan from his clothes while trying to not combust from blushing cuz he is leaning or staring down and just gazing at you with a smirk on his face, and teasing you about clearly you don't wanna be away from him or something smh

Also! Say if you are getting your mehndi (henna) done for eid or something, he would totally use this as a way to get closer to you, like you can't use your hands while waiting for your mehndi to dry! So he's just helping you by brushing your hair away from your face, or just guiding you with a hand on your lower back so you don't bump into someone and ruin your pretty mehndi, or sitting too close to you with his arm is draped behind you while your waiting for your henna to dry. Lmao he would totally wait for the henna to dry and when he sees how dark and rich the colour his, hes like see, look how much I love you (cuz you know the darker the colour, the more your husband loves you) and you are trying so hard to not just get all flustered and just can't help looking away all shy and blushy, while he looks at you in a soft but like still dominant way

Speaking of helping you! Lmao he would totally use this as an excuse to feed you food, and he would totally use this as an opportunity to touch your face and neck, just touching your lips, and looking at you with lust filled eyes, and telling you how he bets your lips will taste so sweet when he kisses you, and make such pretty noises when you're underneath him, and you're just like Dabi! Stop, people are gonna hear! You're gonna get us in trouble! But he just chuckes cuz you look so cute when you're glaring at him with a blush adoring your cheeks

Also he would totally find a way to make you feed him food cuz that's what good wifes do! lmfao like okay say your poor soul ends up getting engaged to him, and its your mehndi or something, and you know how sometimes they will make the bride feed the groom sweets like laddu or gulab jamun, brooo he would so sexual about it, he would totally hold your wrist and guide it to feed him, and maintain eye contact the whole time, and his lips linger on your finger tips for just a little too long, and of course everyone is just gonna be like omg! Wow look at how much he is in love with her! So lucky! While you're sitting there trying not to die from how fast and hard your heart is beating and your cheeks are on fire

Also! Imagine having to drive with him omggg like imagine your family is in the process of you guys getting engaged and are like going out for dinner or a picnic or something, and Dabi would be like oh! How about me and her drive together and use this as a chance to get to know each other better, and of course the parents are gonna be like yes! Like wow look at the initiative he's taking to get to know his future wife, so now you are stuck in a car with him. He would totally pull that move where when he is reversing he puts his arm behind your seat and he would totally "help" you by reaching across to help put your seat belt on, and just lingers by your face, his lips too close to your lips, and you just blushing and looking demurly at him through your lashes, and omg he would totally put his hand on your tigh and just relish in the way you gasp and clench them and blush as you are like Dabi! This isn't appropriate, the parents will find out! Lmaooo Also! Adding to the previous point, he would totally make your feed him food while he drives, and licks or nick your finger tips when you go to feed him, and just relish in the way you blush and squeak Dabi! And he would just he like damn I can't help that I love the way my name sounds on your lips

Also when you guys married hes gonna be soooo horny, and possessive for you cuz know it's all halal, and would just be like I wanna get you pregnant asap, cuz come on we gotta give our parents cute little grandkids and its your job as his wife to please him lmfao And like of course you're gonna be all flustered and stuff, but also he is good in bed, soooooo aianaokHgqNaah

And also like yeah Muslim Dabi is a total hooligan, but he's not dumb, homeboy is smart and gets good grades, and is gonna be graduating with a masters and is gonna work under his dad and all that, and his family is famous and well liked by the community, so he's gonna have like no issues with getting the reader to marry him, and her family is obviously gonna be so happy! Like wow what a good marriage proposal from such a prestigious and good family! And of course the Todoroki's are gonna be so happy to have a sweet and kind and pure daughter in law, who is gonna take care of their troublesome son, little do they know that yeah maybe Dabi loves you, but he's also gonna ruin you LMFAOO RIPPP

……….

hotwings.exe. has stopped working.

HELP ME

LORD HAVE FUCKING MERCYYYYYYYYY MY GAWD

WHY CANT HE BE REAL

WHY CANT I HAVE A MUSLIM SCUMMY YET LOVING TOUYA PLEASE GOD WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN😭😭😭😭🔫

Dude it would be just like in Om Shaanti Om, maybe he sees you at chaand raat looking for churiyan or cute kurtis for Eid when he decides to approach you. He KNOWS how skittish you are but he’s had his eye on you for a while…yet you’re so damn evasive. You’re like a little mouse, jumping at the slightest brush of his body against yours.

He sees you admiring the jingle of the bangles, the way the sequins cast reflecting rays against your own hands and decides to play with his future wifey a bit.

He sidles up behind you and reaches around your body to hold your preoccupied hand in his.

“I can’t wait for the day you look at me with such admiration,” he breaths against your ear, and just as he expected, you jump about a foot in the air.

You clutch your chest and look at him warily.

“Dabi! Don’t do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

He lowers his lids and makes sure you’re watching as his gaze travels from your feet up your body to your face, settling on not so modest areas.

Your face flushed furiously when he rasps, “‘You sayin’ I make your heart race, meri jaan?”

He almost got kicked in the balls that day. But he wouldn’t say that he minds if it means his sacred scrotum has any contact with you

At another time he finds you waiting in line to get your mehndi done. You’re sitting patiently and poised as you flip through some sample design pages, and he slips in like next to you (and might I add, he received no backlash for cutting from the terrifying glare he gave to the people behind him, practically dating them to voice their displeasure).

“Whatcha lookin’ at guriya (doll)?”

You snap your head towards him with mild surprise, somehow already knowing he was going to find you. Wordlessly, you hand him the pages and he takes it from your hand, letting his fingers interlace with yours.

You try pulling it back, nervously looking around and giving him a pleasing look to let go, but he merely holds your gaze, his eyes filled with such tenderness that you had never seen before.

“Let them see. People should know you’re gonna belong to me anyways,” he groans quietly when your lips part in shock.

“Stop messing with me,” you murmur and turn your face. He won’t have any of it though, he follows your turning head and grabs a wrist, holding it up to his lips and kissing it, trailing his mouth from your palm to your single digits.

“‘This the hand you’re gonna get done?”

Your body lights on fire as you feel his tongue swirl around your index, the taste of you causing his dick to swell under his kameez.

He squeezes your wrist lightly and prompts you for an answer. You nod slightly, and he chuckles lowly.

“I’ll make sure to put a ring on this hand then. And you better wear it with your mehndi as well when you wrap your hand around my co-“

“Next person please!”

You leap out of your seat, face ablaze and fuming indignantly as you hear him laugh behind you.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You turn and barely meet his eye.

“What?”

“Get the design on page three. It’ll suit you.”

You get the design on page three.

He leaves at one point and you think he’s gone for good, when he comes back 19 minutes later, ladoos and kheer loaded in his hands, a brown paper bag in between his teeth.

Your eyes widen as he seats himself next to you, and the girl doing your hand gives you a knowing smirk when you frantically shake your head for him to leave.

But nope. Instead, he meticulously takes time to form little bites of mixed sweets and hand feeds them to you, much to your utter embarrassment.

You can’t help it though! You’re so hungry, and the food is actually delicious. It’s totally not cuz of the way he looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world, like you’re the only one whose allowed to see this soft side of the eldest Todoroki…

It’s much later down the line when you two get engaged. It takes Dabi argument after argument of persuading his parents to host multiple iftaars just for your family. He doesn’t even want Hawks to be with him when you come over, he just wants you all to himself.

When you enter his house his mouth waters at seeing your shalwar. You barely lift your lashes to look at him, but he’s basically ogling at you.

At one point of you coming over Dabi points out to the adults that you’ve never had a full house tour before. Your parents permit him to show you around, and he uses this opportunity to isolate you in a distant part of the house, right in his room.

The second you hesitantly step in, holding a light dupatta over your head for a show of modesty, he’s closing the door and locking it behind him. You turn at the sound of the click to see him smirking and crossing his arms over as he leans against the door.

You frown. “Open the door Dabi, if either of our parents see us here alone they’re gonna call off the nikkah.”

“Oh, so you’re worried about wanting to be with me, huh?”

“Dabi,” you say exasperatedly, already reaching around him for the handle.

But he uses this momentum to yank your arm towards him and spin you around, pinning you to the door with his chest pressed against your back.

It’s silent save for both of your ragged breaths.

You’re terrified, you’ve never had a boy touch you like this and you don’t know what to do except gasp when he presses his boner against your ass.

“You wanna know something?” He whispers into your ear.

You shake your trembling head, and he softly kisses the side of your cheek.

“I’ve never really been one to follow protocol, but I won’t touch you too much while we’re engaged. I’ll be gentle with you and let you get used to how you’re going to be trained under me.”

You inhale softly and flinch when his hands travel up your sides, letting the edges of your dress ride up and flash a bit of your stomach.

“But after our wedding…just know that I’ll take you however I want. I won’t be as nice with letting you go. Even if you think you can escape by having our wedding night in either yours or my parents’ house, I’ll make sure everyone knows how my name sounds when it’s screaming from your lips.”

He rubs against you, your body trapped between a rock and a literal hard place.

You think he’s gonna feel up your chest from the way he hooks his chin over your shoulder and peers down at your breasts, but he just lightly licks a stripe up your neck and cooes when you whimper.

“Please, Dabi, not like this. Just-just wait a bit.”

“How can I wait when you taste so fucking good though,” he growls and tightens his grip around you, ripping another gasp from your throat.

But then, he stops. He lets you go and spins you around to face him.

You look up at him and he strokes one hand over the column of your neck.

Unmarked, begging for any kind of sign of ownership.

“But don’t get too excited. I still have to see how you cook me biryani and butter chicken if you want this dick,” he smirks and breaks the tension in the air when he senses you’re overstimulated, misty eyed and scrunched eyebrows a dead giveaway for him.

You swat his arm and scowl at his crudeness.

“Okay you’ve had your fun now, you cretin-“

“Cretin?” His eyes widen mockingly and he takes a step towards you, placing a hand on his chest in faux hurt.

You back up and he takes another step forwards.

“That’s a big girl word to use. It’s a pretty mean one too, you’re so mean to your husband-to-be, Y/N.” He pouts and you can’t help the disbelieving snort that comes out of you. As if he were that sensitive.

“You think our kids will be as mean as you?”

“What?!” You sputter.

He cocks his head and studies you.

“Or do you think they’ll be freakishly handsome like me?”

“Get your head out of your ass, you’re actually unbelievable.”

“Maybe if I put you in a mating press they’ll come out nicer…but I heard back shots make girls more submissive, so maybe that’ll transfer to one of ‘em.”

“Who said we’re having any kids?”

“What, you think I’m gonna let you be on birth control? Naw janoo, that pussys all mine. ‘M gonna cum in it whenever i want.”

And before you feel like you’re going to pass out, you hear a knock from the door, Natsuo calling out for both of you to join them for dinner.

Dabi looks at the door, then you.

“Ladies first,” he smirks and opens the door.

[sleepylixie]

Cupid’s Arrow-1

Boxer! Lee Know x fem! Reader

2k words, Romance, College AU(Imperium Universe-4) 

Songs: Tiger Inside- Super M

A/N : Y’all heard right. Part-1. Tumblr deleted the draft i was working on here, leaving me only with the first half of the fic that I wrote on Docs. I'm so sorry for the delay @delicatewerewolfsoul I'll make sure to get that posted asap 🥺💕 This fic can be read individually, of course. :) Do let me know what y’all think about this story!! ONTO THE FIC. - Elliana

Imperium Universe: Jisung || Seungmin ||Lee Know || Chan

“Who the everloving heck are you?!” You yell, hands banging roughly against the surface of the table. Assorted shushes and glares were instantly directed towards you, the closest being the admonishing stare of Mark Lee, your best friend.

“You do realize we are in a library?” He hissed, a mess of dark brown hair swinging over his brow as he shook his head at you. You rolled your eyes at him, only turning your attention back to the source of your annoyance- your laptop screen.

“This is the 13th ask I’ve received about the same M in this semester.” You retorted, albeit quieter than your initial outburst. Mark’s brows furrowed, lips pouting in a frown as he absentmindedly turned over a page of his book. “How do you even know it’s the same M? It could very well be one person sending the same ask 13 times.”

“You were the genius who put together the one-ask per account rule in the first place!” You threw your arms up in exasperation, the volume control still proving to be a bit of a struggle. “Besides, they’re all worded really differently, look-” You turned your laptop to face Mark, who leaned forward to scan the words on your screen.

A sleek red website sat open in an incognito tab, punctuated with assorted dove-grey boxes full of questions and curiosities, the sidebar flashing a pretty name- Lovelorn Secretkeeper(LLS). Your best friend chuckled as he read the questions on the site. “People have it bad for this dude.”

“I know! They even say the exact same thing, that he’s too out of their league to even try, but he’s too handsome and talented,” punctuating handsome and talented with exaggerated hand movements, “to not try- What do they expect me to tell them!?”

As cliche as it sounded, Lovelorn Secretkeeper was your university’s anonymous love-guru and wine aunt, meting out advice about crushes and heartbreak solutions like over-the-counter pills. People caught wind of it days after the website mysteriously popped up on the informal forums, impossible to trace altogether. Tens of questions poured in by the day, all questions from lovelorn souls asking for the help of the elusive apparition running the site.

If only Everlark University knew that LLS was run by not one, but two apparitions- both of whom were currently puzzling over the identity of a certain M who had turned up on their list of secrets once too often.

“How difficult do you think it would be to find out who M is?” Mark mused, pushing the laptop back towards you. “I mean, you know he’s a dancer and he’s handsome, so why don’t you, I don’t know,” a nonchalant shrug moving his shoulders, “ask the girls you know, I guess? I’m sure word gets around fast if he’s as hot as these questions scream he is.”

The cogs in your head began to turn, albeit rather unwillingly. You weren’t the most social person despite being aware of status quos your university’s student functioned on- was this Dora-the-explorer-esque expedition to find the elusive M absolutely necessary?

No, it wasn’t, you realized, but your own curiosity wouldn’t be satisfied until you found out who it was that had managed to enamour these many people all while looking evidently unavailable.

“Yeah, I’ll probably do that.”

//

“Hey! Y/N, Right?” A pretty girl sidled up to you on the other side of the bar, her fingers slightly awkward around the glass she was cleaning. New to the trade, you thought belatedly as you smiled politely and nodded at her.

Imperium Bar was just beginning to fill up with students and teacher’s assistants, ready to celebrate the end of yet another week with some cheap alcohol and good times. It was barely halfway through the semester but people inevitably ended up drowning in work- such was the life of a normal student in university, always busy and bustling with full checklists-

“You’re looking for Minho, I heard.” she grinned setting down one glass and picking up the other.

“Yes, I am.” You responded lightly, your eyes still grazing over the slowly filling booths and tables from the corner of the counter you were sitting at.

“He is pretty handsome, really good in the ring. You have a good eye.”

By ring, you could only assume that the new bartender of Imperium meant the stage. You’d spent the past week asking around for a possibly new admit to Everlark who happened to be a dancer and unattainably handsome. To your surprise, your search was cut short in the matter of days when Yeji, a junior in your class pointed you to Lee Felix from her class who knew a Lee Minho. Lee Minho, a transfer student from Everlark’s sister university on the other side of the city, with an express acceptance into the dance club Felix was a part of.

“You’ll find him in Imperium on Fridays,” Felix had the sweetest disposition, a warm smile on his face as he divulged information about his seemingly old friend with great ease. “You should drop by if you want to see him!”

Your better judgement yelled at you to forget the chase- you knew his full name, it was just the matter of a social media stalk before you found out what you needed to know for your 13( now 16) askers. However, you found yourself pulling on a dark hoodie and slipping into the bar on Friday evening, shivering slightly from the cool breeze. You were just curious, you were sure. Just curious.

“Felix! Over here!” The bartender raised an arm in greeting to somebody behind you and moments later, Felix’s dark mane of hair made its way into your line of sight. His eyes were slight crescents on his face as he smiled, the sunny amiability prompting a smile to creep over your face as well.

“Hello, Felix.”

“Sorry for making you wait!” Felix pulled you into a quick hug, before cocking his head towards the back of the bar. “Let’s go, he’s already down there.”

An eyebrow raised in curiosity, you dragged your eyes between Felix and the bartender as you hopped off the stool. “Down...where?”

Felix’s eyes widened, the bartender letting out a gasp of surprise. “Uh…” Your new friend’s voice trailed off in uncertainty, wide and beseeching eyes immediately darting towards the bartender for help. “Oops.”

“Your access should really be revoked, you troublemaking gremlin.” The bartender accused, tossing her dishcloth at him and reaching over to smack him across the head before turning to you.

“There’s been a misunderstanding, Y/N. Junior moron here-” waving indistinctly in Felix’s direction, “is talking about the cellars. Minho works part time here, so he’s usually getting into the stocks in the cellar downstairs. Felix forgot about the rule stating that patrons can’t-”

“At least try to lie convincingly.” You cut through her tirade, a choked laugh from Felix punctuating her surprised silence. Possibly not the most polite thing to say, in hindsight, but her attempts to cover up whatever was going on in the cellar was just getting difficult to hear. You smiled quietly, eyes dragging between Felix’s eyes, alive with mirth to the bartender’s, flat with suspicion.

“It’s not illegal, is it?” You let the question slip loud enough for the two of them to hear. The bartender nodded the exact moment Felix shook his head. A giggle bubbled up your throat at the instant glance of betrayal that passed between the two of them.

“I’ll keep silent about this if the two of you will.” You grinned, shrugging slightly as you pushed the strap of your bag further up your shoulder. Felix let another crow of laughter, twining his arm with yours as he steered you towards the dark back door of Imperium, waving off the bartender’s expasterated shouts to be careful, for fuck’s sake-

“You seem like such a cool person,” Felix giggled as you followed his lead, making your way past the tables and groups of people and back into the cool air outside. . “I was a little intimidated by you at first but you’re actually really cool.” You laughed aloud as Felix knocked thrice on a door next to the bar’s back door in a neat pattern.

“Good to know you think so, junior.”

Just then, the door swung open to a set of stairs and a wave of noise much louder than what you were used to.

“Welcome to the real Imperium.”grinned Felix.

//

You did not think this was where you’d be spending your Friday night- in the basement of a bar with higher ceilings than you thought was possible, the roar of voices settling you more firmly into reality than anything else you’re ever experienced.

The second you and Felix reached the bottom of the stairs, you could see the crowd gathered around the center of the space, the flood lights pointed towards whatever was going on in the middle. There were sparse groups of people scattered throughout, a makeshift bar and couches spread haphazardly around one side while the windows at the top of the walls were left open for some semblance of ventilation. Despite the number of people in the underground space, it didn’t feel… suffocating.

“Do you mind blood or gore?”

Your eyes narrowed; what even was this place? “No.”

Before you could question it, Felix was pulling you towards the crowd and into it, easily slipping between the spaces towards the attraction in the center. You allowed him to lead you, as you had the entire night, until the two of you re-emerged at the edge of the-

The ring.

It looked very much like a boxing ring, but on the same floor level as the audience. Inside were two guys circling each other, breath heaving in puffs of smoke against the chilled air through gritted teeth. They were both dressed in contrasting red and blue, their clenched fists enclosed in hand-wraps. The two guys slipped in and out of the stark shadows that the criss-cross of the floodlights created until one of them caught your eye-

Lee Minho. You didn’t need the yelled introduction Felix was giving you because there was no other way to describe that other than unattainably handsome. Suddenly, the 18 askers in LLS made sense- of course, of fucking course this face seemed impossible to match up to.

You watched in bated curiosity, your eyes scanning him and his opponent- and Minho made the first move. The crowd dissolved into roars of encouragement as he went in for a clean right hook, his movements smooth and feline-fluid. He was confident, you realized as you watched him dodge and block and strike with an almost bored, practiced ease. No, he was good at looking confident. The set of his jaw was nothing but confident, his teeth bared in a snarl of fake amusement as he lunged at his opponent, the fight dissolving into a tangle of arms and legs rolling against the concrete floor.

“He’s one of the best this season.” Felix yelled over the din of the crowd, but your eyes were still trained on the match. “You don’t say.” You shouted back, catching yet another glimmer of amusement light up your companion’s face before turning your attention back to the fight.

Yes, he truly seemed like the best- your breath caught in your throat at Minho’s unhesitant, almost instinctual manner of moving, already on the other side of his opponent before he could even throw a swing. His poor opponent was almost effortlessly pummeled to the ground soon after, a grin of triumph pulling up his lips and the nasty looking bruise high on his cheekbone as he was announced the winner.

His eyes scanned the exultant crowd, catching on yours for a split second before moving away-

You let out a long breath as he hopped out of the ring and into the dark of the surroundings. So it was him.

This was the M your askers were going on and on about-

For the first time, you were in agreement with them.

Lee Minho truly did seem unattainable.

//

Taglist/Interested Parties 🥴: @aliceu @decembermoonskz @rebecca-noona @skzctnightnight @fylithia @illicit-roses @cotccotc @straykidsownmysoul @soya-zz @stellarmonsterr @seraplantery @jl-micasea \\ @inkidz @starryktown @districtninewriters @stayhavens​  

Do let me know what you think! - Elliana

[ichorizaki]

001. finding, bonnie

genre    fluff

pairing     matsukawa issei x gn!reader

warnings     none

word count     3.5k

synopsis     when he received the letter, he didn’t know how to even find you. there was no trace of you yet you lived in his mind ever since that night, until fate chances upon him with a cheeky wink.

When Issei Issei first got the letter, he was carrying the heavy boxes of his belongings and unloading them into his car. The sun was at its apex in the sky, rays spread out across the azure blue and dancing through the almost-autumn breeze. His muscles bulged underneath the old shirt he was wearing, sweat prickling at the back of his neck and itching his sun kissed skin. He was leaning against the trunk of his car, wiping off the sweat forming at his hairline with the back of his hand. A refrigerated Red Bull cooled the palm of his left hand, cap unopened when his little sister walked out of the door with an emerald envelope in her hand.

“What’s this?” He murmured, eyes locked on the envelope as she stuck it out to him. Issei then looked at his sister who only shrugged wordlessly in return. He took it and flipped it over to see the characters of his name written in silver glitter ink with a handwriting he couldn’t quite recognise. It was neat, the strokes heavy and he could see how careful the writer was. Perhaps they didn’t want to mess up his name, which was something he found himself smiling at.

“You know who wrote it?” His sister climbed the hood of his trunk, sitting next to him with her legs crossed under her. He glanced over at her briefly before shaking his head no. “Well, open it then! I’ve never heard you talk about a secret admirer before, dude.”

“Idiot,” he rolled his eyes. Truth be told, he was rather nervous about who it was. There was a certain familiarity to that foreign envelope, sealed so neatly and the colour so curious. Different people ran through his head throughout his three years of high school. None of them seemed to fill the shadow of the person who sent him this letter.

Issei was careful with the way he edged the seal apart. In his large hands, the envelope seemed so small and frail. He tried his best not to tear the envelope apart. For some reason, he would be upset if he did. A parchment of white paper was nestled within its confines, waiting for him to open it up and read it.

The second he read the first few words, a grin bloomed upon his usually stoic face. And he just couldn’t stop grinning. His shoulders shook as his hand fell to his lap, clutching the letter and envelope in hand, chuckling in disbelief.

“What is it? Is it a prank from Makki?” She put her phone down, trying to figure out why her older brother was chuckling to himself like a madman. “If it’s yes, say the word and he’s gone.”

“Shut up, you little smurf.” He reached over to flick her forehead gently. She simply made a face in response, faking pain with a grumble. “It’s not Makki. Just let me finish the damned letter.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

It was from you. The Bonnie to his Clyde; the sun to his moon. Of course it was from you; who else could it be from? Nobody else made sense. It was you and it was enough to send his heart skipping a beat.

Even when he was done reading, he couldn’t help but re-read the letter over and over again. He didn’t think you’d felt that way, and he certainly didn’t think that he found himself wanting just a little bit more than what you both had that night. He remembered the night just like it was yesterday, his favourite bits and pieces rolling like a film in his mind, the ghost of your voice sweet like honey whenever you laughed or spoke or cried your heart out. It was just one night but it felt like half of the eternity he wanted to spend with you.

“Oi,” he called for his sister, who looked up from her phone, humming response. His eyes couldn’t help but fall to the screen to see a picture of you and your younger sister on an Instagram page. “Wait, hold up, who’s that on your screen?”

“Huh?” She looked at him like he’d grown two more heads and a tail. She brought her phone up and tinkered around for a bit before answering him, “It’s my friend’s crush.”

“Your friend has a crush on a college freshman?”

“What?! Don’t be crazy, dumbass! She has a crush on their little sister!” He eyed her suspiciously, hands folding the letter and keeping it inside its designated envelope before tucking it protectively in his back pocket. She punched his arm at his teasing, obviously flustered.

“Just making sure.” He shrugged dismissively. “Why are you flustered, weirdo?”

She let out a loud groan and flipped him off, cursing him with all of the profanities she’d learn in her very short sixteen years of her life. Obviously tickled by her reaction, laughter bubbled from his throat. He was going to miss teasing her in person. Campus was over two hours away and he knew that he would be busy with class. Calls would be more frequent . . . or not. He knew she wouldn’t pick up a phone call even if her favourite celebrity was phoning her.

“Hey, send me their Instagram,” he requested.

“Of the little sister?”

“Of the older sibling, you fucking heathen!” It was his turn to be flustered, his cheeks flushing a deep maroon and her cackling reverberated through the neighbourhood. Their mother shouted at the two from inside of the home he’s spent the past eighteen years of his life in. The two siblings turned to each other, silent, before bursting into giggles and laughter that could barely be contained.

Eventually, they had to part ways when their mother appeared at the door with what seemed to be enough food to feed the entire volleyball team, telling the younger Issei to go back and complete her homework instead of disturbing her older brother. With a whine and heavy grumbling she retreats but not before turning back and flipping him off once again behind their mother’s back. The corner of his lips quirked upwards into a smirk. His sister sure was a handful.

“Issei.” She almost met his height from the way he was leaning against his car. Gently, she placed the wrapped containers of food on the hood before raising her hands to cup his face. They’d barely said a word to each other but he could already see the tears in her eyes. He softly sighed, a sad smile gracing his lips as his hands wrapped around her wrists. “My son, all grown up.” It was all she could manage before choking on her tears.

His heart hurt when he pulled her close to hug her. His head spun when he realised that he won’t be able to hug her like this every morning before he went to school. He found himself holding her tighter as she sobbed into his shoulder, praising him for being such a good role model for his little sister, praising him for being such a good son, praising him for the lessons she’s taught him as a mother. The tears were hot, pricking the corners of his eyes and the weight of realisation that he’ll be away from his family sat on him like a heavy storm cloud, robbing him of his ability to breathe.

“I’ll miss you, Ma,” he sniffled, swallowing his tears. Issei let his mother pull away, her hands leaving his cheeks to wipe her tears away before putting on a brave smile for him. He leaned down and gave her one final kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger on her wrinkling skin before pulling away.

“Don’t cause too much trouble, yeah?” She wiped away the snot on her nose. “We both know how you and Makki-kun have a penchant for mischief. I don’t know whether it’s a blessing or a curse that you and that damn boy ended up in university together.” He wiped away his own tears, cheeks hurting from grinning and chuckling while his lips quivered ever so slightly. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth to force himself to stop crying while his mother wept.

“Take care of Pa and that brat we– ow! Mama, what was that for?”

“This boy!” She pinched his ear teasingly, laughing with him until she heard the window open from his sister’s room. She looked like she was about to say something until she spotted their mother and immediately went back inside and slammed the windows shut. He shook his head, chuckling while his mother eventually let him go. They cried a little bit more and hugged it out a little more until it was time for him to take his leave.

With the letter secured in the bag of packed bentos, safely strapped to the passenger seat, he drove off into the horizon. The long journey seemed like such a drag with nothing but the humming of the air conditioning and the car engine. Even in the broad daylight, he couldn’t help but wish it was dark in the late hours of the evening with you in the passenger seat, windows rolled down and music blasting through the stereo but your laughter and your talking were the music to his ears.

At the first red light he increased the volume of his music until he couldn’t hear your laughter in the passenger seat of his empty car. But even then, the lingering ghost of a whisper of your voice haunted him. He doesn’t even know when he would be seeing you again.

“Hey, Clyde?” Your voice was gentle and quiet, just as it was at the start of the night. Crickets sang their song with the melody of nature accompanying their tune, the metal of his car suddenly so cold underneath you both and behind your backs.

“Hm?” Suddenly he became aware of the way you were pressed up against his chest, your body settled in between his legs, his chin resting on the top of your head with his arms wrapped loosely around you. He was just in his deep green henley while you wore the grey hoodie he had brought along with him, the sleeves long enough to give you sweater paws. If only he could see you, bathing in the moonlight. He relished in your scent—coconuts and springfield, with just the slightest hint of strawberry—like it’s the last time he’d ever get a taste of the bewitching concoction, because for all he knew, it could be.

“Do you believe in fate?” Issei’s shoulders tensed from the question. He felt your hands find his, fingers intertwining with one another before placing them on your laps. The action alone felt as natural as breathing.

“Do I believe in fate?” He echoed, his voice low and silent as if not wanting to disrupt the peaceful tranquility of the hilltop they sat on. You hummed softly in response, squeezing your delicate fingers around his calloused, volleyball-worn ones. Your hands were silk against the linen of his, petals against rocks. “Maybe if we meet again, I will.”

Issei found himself tugging at the strings of fate. He found himself wishing to see you in the corridors when he registered himself into his dorm building. He found himself wishing to hear your laugh in the middle of the courtyard among the other freshmen. He found himself yearning for even the slightest piece of you until he felt his phone buzz in the pocket of his jeans.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he realised it was a notification from his sister. It was an Instagram direct message and all of a sudden his heart started to race. He recalled the request that he had made no longer than five hours ago, suddenly feeling heat creep up his neck. Issei quickly spotted the fountain in the middle of the courtyard and sat down among the students. He was certain he had to sit down or else he wouldn’t be able to contain himself.

Unlocking his screen, he waited for the message to load on his screen. It took just half a second too long and he silently cursed at his phone, flicking at the screen like it was a bug until your Instagram page appeared on his screen. A short gasp was caught in his throat. He found you. He found his Bonnie.

Iwaizumi’s handle didn’t go unnoticed at the bottom of your bio. So he follows you too, huh? What a small world. He saw Oikawa’s handle too, as well as Hanamaki’s, but to what extent were their relationships with you? He knew that Oikawa was a simpleton—he would follow anyone who has a stunning Instagram feed, ‘for the aesthetics’, he would claim—so obviously it would be no use to pry. Hanamaki on the other hand, was a proud member of Team Follow Back. You were probably just the attractive person he came across while mindlessly scrolling and decided to press the follow button.

Staring at the screen, he couldn’t help but ask himself: should he press the follow button?

His thumb hovered over the button. His eyes scanned over your profile once again, in awe at how cleanly messy your feed was. It was an organised mess. There were pictures of you and your friends, you and your pets, storefronts you found stunning, alleyways, you falling asleep on your desk in school . . . it all told him your life. Your Instagram page was more than enough to tell him about you, how you stayed up late at night watching anime and listening to songs, how you loved to sit at home and unwind with your pets, how you were more than what he expected you to be that night. You are everything he’s ever wanted. 

He quickly scrolled back up to the top of your profile to see the multi-coloured ring around your profile picture. Curious, he tapped on it and the first thing he saw was the entrance to the university. The same damn university he was attending. What were the fucking odds?

Issei tapped through and he felt his heart soar with every upload until he was brought back to your page. Oh, was he on Cloud 9! He couldn’t help the smile on his face that was threatening to break out into a grin. People might stare at him like he was a madman but he didn’t care. He found you, his Bonnie, and that’s all that mattered.

“What do you mean ‘if’?” You scoffed, releasing one of your hands from his and twisting your body so you could flick him on the forehead. His low chuckles rumbled deep in his chest when he took the hand that flicked his forehead and intertwined your fingers with him once again. His body dwarfed yours so easily that he found it painfully adorable.

“I hate to say it, angel,” he hummed. “I live all the way across the city. I’ll drive you around there for a bit if you’d like. I think it’d be a damn miracle if we saw each other again after today.”

And good lord was it a miracle to see you after so long. Your nose was just the slightest shade of red that matched your cheeks and the colour of your sneakers. You had your earphones plugged into your ears, tuning the world out with music as the both of you did that night in March. Your bookbag was slung over your shoulder, laptop bag clutched close to your chest.

He had been following you for a week through your Instagram stories. He didn’t know if you checked who had viewed your stories but he didn’t care. His profile was private so even if you wanted to snoop around, you wouldn’t know it was him (and he would be way too embarrassed should you DM him out of the blue).

It was well-nigh the afternoon, sun blazing against the cool autumn breeze. You had just ended your first lecture of the day and it was two weeks into university life. He had so many opportunities to walk up to you with the slightly crumpled letter in his hand, tucked neatly into its emerald envelope and hopefully sway you off your feet, but the time just never felt right. Even then, as he stared at your figure quickly walking, undisturbed and completely at peace even with the havoc of the bustling university grounds, he couldn’t help but feel compelled to walk over and re-introduce himself.

His feet, however, were faster than his brain. Before he could comprehend what was happening, he was walking over to you and you were closer. You were closer to him than the past couple of weeks when he tried to plan his introduction behind his phone screen. You were closer to him and he wanted to make sure you were no longer sand slipping through his fingers.

‘Other times I catch myself wishing I would run into you again.’ He recalled your words in the love letter he’s memorised. Now your wish was going to come true, with his arm outstretched and reaching for your shoulder. Time slowed down when you turned around, your lovely doe-like eyes looking so confused and surprised as you searched his face which bravely sported a smug smirk.

He watched as your jaw dropped in shock, yanking your earpieces out of your ears. Your lips gaped open and close like a fish out of water, sputtering air, at a loss of words. Truth be told, he was way more nervous than he appeared. His heart was stammering in his chest and he was sure he forgot how to breathe. The sun was but golden flecks in your e/c eyes, bewonderment shining through the colours of your eyes.

“Hey, Bonnie.” The corner of his lip curled upward into a lazy lopsided grin. Now was his chance to woo you and sweep you off of your feet. Or perhaps, he could bring up the letter and make you flustered. He did have it sitting in his back pocket, after all.

“How . . . How did you find me?”

“I guess life has its ways, angel,” he winked. You scoffed and smacked his chest playfully. He could see the slightest hint of pink in your cheeks and now he was sure it was not the cold or the lovely coral blush you’d put on your face. “What’s this about fallin’ head over heels for me, huh?”

Issei reached behind his back before waving the envelope in your cute face. The second you registered what he was waving, what sounded like a surprised squeak came from you and you grabbed onto his wrist to stop the movement.

“Where did you . . .” Your words got lost in the air as you watched him and he hoped that it was out of wonder and yearning with the way you were looking at him. He simply withdrew his hand to pretend to inspect the envelope.

“It doesn’t matter.” He pockets the envelope. “I believe in fate now.”

He watched as your eyes grew wide, finding amusement in the way your cheeks burned red and puffed out. It was apparent to him that you remembered the fateful and eventful night some months ago in the distant sparkle of your eyes and the way the corner of your lips tugged upwards into a small smile of disbelief.

“When we meet again,” you corrected him. “Let’s re-introduce ourselves. Maybe go on a date if fate wills it.”

“You’re already asking me out, sweetheart?” He grinned, nose gently nudging the crown of your scalp before pressing an open-mouthed kiss against your hair. He could tell how flustered you were by his observation of your words, so he decided to carry on the conversation. “I’m definitely taking you out on a date if we see each other again, and of course, if you’d let me, babycakes.” 

“I’m Matsukawa Issei,” he thrusts his free hand out for a handshake. “I’m studying Psychology, freshman.” Your smile and gaze faltered at the small pinch of a smirk on his face. Did you think he would forget? How could he? After that night, he was left wanting more and more. How could he pass up the golden opportunity to ask you out?

You took his hand in yours. You took a deep breath, your chest rising and shoulders squaring before staring him straight in the eye. The words that tumbled from your mouth were woven and ingrained in his brain, forever to be kept. He finally had your name. What you studied didn’t matter to him that much. All he wanted was your name and his heart soared at the way your name rolled off of your lips.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, L/N,” he smiled. A breath. “Will you go on a date with me?”

You were struggling to fight off the smile, adamant on looking a little disappointed that it took the both of you too long to find each other. Truth be told, you had always found your way into his mind ever since that night. No matter how hard he tried, you were always there. Now he didn’t need to keep searching or hope that you’d find your way back in his mind, because you were right there in front of him, the smile finally breaking free as giddy giggles bubbled up in your throat.

“I never thought you’d ask, Clyde.”

✎     ❝TO ALL THE BOYS!

THE LETTER                                  SUN&MOON

would you like to try another route?

[occult-castiel]

Leave a message (after the beep!)

Suptober. Day 13: Rewind Dean has a few things to say to Cas. Word count: 2542 [Read on Ao3]

3 Weeks.

Dean's been stealing glances at his phone for over an hour. The dim light of the hall that creeps from under his door is the only reason he can see the thing, blurred out to a barely-there grey hunk of plastic.

The idea is fucking stupid. He doesn't care what Sam thinks. Sam wasn't even supposed to know. Let alone have fucking opinions.

But Dean slipped.

And it took more effort than he will ever admit to walk out of the kitchen without clocking his brother in the goddamn jaw.

Fuck Sam and fuck the phone.

He turns around, away from the stupidest temptation of his life, and demands sleep come.

It's only mildly successful.

2 Month, 1 Week.

Nothing bad can happen from a phone call. Doing it once can’t hurt you any more than you are now

Sam's a well-meaning kid. He really is. But sometimes he just needs to can it.

'Cause he had to go and say some shit like that, completely unprompted — they were talking about potential witch activity in Utah, not Dean's feelings, for Christ's sake — and now it's all Dean can think about now that the distractions of the day have bled into a dark room and cold bed.

And that gray hunk of plastic on his desk is laughing at him. He could reach it if he sat up. Stretched a bit.

But the idea is dumb. And Sam doesn't get it. He really fucking doesn’t.

Except Dean knows he's kind of full of crap.

He grits his teeth, shoves the covers to the side, and grabs his phone.

With each passing buzz, his heart stutters, breath cut into shorter and shorter spurts.

Stupidstupidstupid.

It- it isn't like he's gunna answer. Dean knows he not, but it just rings and rings and —

"This is my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail."

And it hurts.

He calls again every night for the next week. Of course, he never picks up. Sam doesn't ask.

4 Months.

Dean kicks the door after it slams shut. Throws his gun at his headboard, if it goes off and shoots him, oh fucking well. It's great. Just fantastic.

He pulls his phone out without thinking. Clicks Cas.

It rings, and for a moment his shoulders relax as the familiar greeting plays. Cause its Cas' voice. And fuck. Just… fuck.

Then it beeps, and he actually does the one thing he's wanted for months.

"None of your douchebag family will answer me. And I've tried friggin' everything, I swear to Christ."

He runs his hand over his face, glances up at the sour-yellow ceiling.

"How you ever stood them is beyond me dude."

And then, like a rational human being. He hangs up and pretends that whatever that was didn't happen.

Once the bitter taste of angels that don’t pick the fucking phone up from earlier that day fades, Dean stares at the darkened ceiling.

He left a voicemail. A fucking voicemail.

Pathetic.

4 Months, 3 Weeks.

So he hasn't called again since his, uh, slip up. And Sam keeps giving him these little looks. And he knows that Sam knows, and knows he isn't calling because he's a changed man or whatever.

Maybe Sam would drop it, whatever the hell he thinks Dean's mess is, if he could manage to eat.

Jody, Claire, Kaia, and Alex are all around the table with them. Jody's the charmer she always is, talking about how she's grateful for the help and oh, of course you guys are gunna stay for dinner! Ah-ah! No buts.  

There was a hunt in town she tracked down with Claire, a huge vamps nest — we're talking dozens — and called them over for help. And is now feeding them. Because she's a saint and never deserved to be in the know in the first place.

Dean looks at the food. Pork lathered in dark brown graveyard with a mountain of buttery mashed potatoes. There's a pile of carrots on Sam's plate. Dean opted out.

Not that he's eating now. No, mostly just pushing it all around. He does eat in general.

But Claire isn't looking at him. Hasn't. She barely managed a glance up when he saved her — just a small nod and weary glance.

Sam, on the other hand, may as well be ogling.

Dean wishes he could read Sam's mind, find out where he's keeping it so Dean can wallow in misery without his brother being keen on some of the finer details, thank you very much.

He manages a few bites. Its excellent, mouth-watering, home-cooked goodness he's missed fiercely since he got a taste for it the few days Mrs. Butters was around.

But right now? Turns his stomach.

On the way back home, Sam clears his throat. Dean grips the wheel a little tighter.

"So —"

"I didn't ask for your opinion, Samantha."

In the corner of his eye, Sam's shoulder slump. His brother looks down and sighs out a sad little noise.

But the rest of the drive is quiet. And that's a win in Dean's book.

*

It's roughly midnight, and books are scattered across the library table. They're all open to different pages, but none of it matters. Not really.

Dean's combing through it all anyway. Has been since Heavens decided they have a no-call policy with anyone named Winchester.

The piles he has laid around him have grown increasingly larger as the weeks have drug on. Spiked exponentially when he decided not to call anymore.

"Hey Dean."

Dean snaps his head up mid-sentence. Sam stands in the threshold, holding a plate. In pajamas.

Dean just looks at him. "What?"

"Made you food." He lifts the plate up a fraction

"That looks like a cold cut, so made is a generous word."

Sam has the audacity to slump into himself, full-on wounded-puppy mode. So Dean rolls his eyes and waves him over.

The plate gets sat down with a distinct clank, and Sam pats his shoulder.

"You know I just… want what's best for you."

Dean tenses his shoulders, closes the book in front of him. He speaks through his teeth.

"Yeah, well I never had it in the first place. And now it is gone, and there's nothing I can do."

"You don't know that Dean."

He glues his eyes to the back of the book. Balls his fists.

"Don't I? That — That fucking thing just —"

"I know. But it's also gone. We don't know what happened."

Dean chooses then to look over, fix his brother with a proper glare so he'll go the hell away — but sees it.

Sitting innocuously on the plate, like it isn't an affront to everything Dean would rather not, is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Sam's talking but he can't hear it. His brains turned to mush, a radio-static circus of nothing.

The bottom of his chair screeches as it drags against the floor.

And Dean can’t see.

Sam grabs his arm, he shakes it off. He moves decisively, tries too, but his eyes prickle and he can’t see shit, and he isn’t about to cry right there in front of his brother, validate every stupid thought the guy has that’s probably one-hundred percent right.

His door clicks shut, and he pressed himself against it. Slides down until he hits the icy floor.

Dean's throat is a constricted cage, each breath in has to be muscled in, down, out. Each wobble as much as the last.

Sam doesn't know shit. He doesn’t know what he's talking about. He really doesn't.

Calling someone who can’t answer, won’t ever answer, is fucking stupid. It's not therapeutic.

When he rubs a hand over his face. It comes back wet, and his eyes sting.

"Fuck."

He fishes for his phone. Going to Cas' number is muscle memory at this point.

It rings. Cause Sam can't help but keep the thing charged.

"This is my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail."

The ball in his chest is impossibly tight. Why hasn't he called? Just to hear him again, the gruff tenor that's like gravel and silk and the only thing he ever wants to hear, ever. And now he only has nine words he'll ever hear him say again.

That's it. Two sentences.

You saved the whole world. He didn’t save shit.

And what the fuck is he supposed to do now? How is he supposed to do anything? He’s never been any good, not as good as he needs to be. Maybe if he would’ve been — or did somethin’ different, anything different —

Dean threads his fingers in his hair and balls his fist. Squeezes his eyes shut against the pool of tears that just leak out, and curls in on himself. His guts are twisted and tight, just like the rest of him. Every part of him shakes, the hand vice-gripping his hair should hurt, should be enough to pull him back to sanity, but the tears don’t stop.

And really what does it matter if he cries. Chucks gone, and The Empty, that — that thing got what was coming to it.

But Cas didn't come back.

He lulls his head against the door, untangles the hand from his hair like his fingers piston operated they ache so bad

God, Cas should’ve just left him in Hell.

Maybe he's Heaven, Billy had said with a shrug. Casual. Like she didn't understand. And Dean knows she does. She gets it more than any of them, saw just what this shit did the last time. Saw exactly how much he didn't want to be around.

Jack had to fuck off to put the universe in balance, so he’s MIA and no help. And Heaven doesn't seem to give a shit.

There must've been a beep somewhere, so Dean just goes with it. Presses the phone to his ear again and works his jaw open until it’s loose enough to allow something resembling words can happen.

"It's — it's bullshit." God Dean can't recognize his own voice, pulled thin and hoarse. "You — you know that right? Bullshit." He shakes his head. Tries to take a deep breath that comes out only slightly less ragged. "You always left. And I — I get that you had to sometimes. But no one wanted you here more than me."

He wipes his face off with the collar of his shirt. His skull screams in sharp pain, and his temples thud. And normally this would be too long of a pause, but normally you don't start a voicemail off trying not to sob, and normally they're made for people who can actually listen to them. So whatever.

"This is stupid. It's not — voicemails ain't your style." His breath leaves, and exhaustion sets deep into his bones. "You always just called back for the explanation. You'd leave 'em, though."

At least Dean assumes. Every call back he'd ever gotten from the guy he'd have to fill him in on whatever was happening anyway. Guess it makes sense in a way. If you have enough time to listen to a message, you've got enough time to call.

The space behind his robes aches when he says, "We both shoulda picked up more, I guess. And Sammy wants me to call now. Like it makes up for shit. It doesn't."

He swipes the little red phone to the left, and stares at the word Cas in his contacts page.

But the screen goes blank, and all he can see are his puffy red eyes reflected in the black screen, and that's motivation, so he gets ready for bed.

1 Year, 10 Months, 13 Days

He calls a few times after that. But tries not to leave voicemails for someone that's just gone, in every sense of the word.

It’s dumb. Still really dumb. And he has no defense for it. Eventually Sam hands him Cas' old phone and a charger. All of the missed voicemails untouched.

Dean could swear he remembers ever last one.

They're mostly simple crap, sometimes. Updates.

"Sam and Eileen are getting hitched. They're pretty fucking disgusting together. But sometimes they look at me, and I can just see it, man. See how they like, bubble themselves off." He laughs, but it's strained.  "Guess it just be written on my face. Which is just friggin’ fantastic. Cause I'm happy for them. I've always wanted that for Sam. But I wanted it for us too. Fucked up that I can only say it now, huh."

"I don't like the way burgers taste anymore. And I, uh, have a bumper sticker now. It's a bee. I kept it together until Sam got misty-eyed." There's a pause for a touch too long, then, "That mixtapes been the only thing in Baby for a month."

"I kept the trenchcoat. Wore it earlier. Got cold out for the first time since —" he sighs. "You wore it better. Looks like shit on me. It pretty much lives in my closet. Can't get monster guts on it that way."

But sometimes it's just a confession, none of the other bullshit. Just the truth.

"Look. I'm not mad. So don't think that. Cause I'm not. Wish I was. It's — it's always been easier. But I was trying to get my head on straight. I would've for you. I just… Don't know how now."

"Can't tell if I like using your old angel blade or fucking hate it. Don't like much of anything anymore. You were better with it."

"Id pray to you, but this is all I got. And I wish I could hope you're up there. But then I'd hope there isn't any pay per view Earth or whatever. Cause this shit? Is pitiful." A sigh. "G'night, Cas."

And one night, a long time later, he's sitting with his back against his bed, nestled next to the end table he never used, he says the truth in a way he knows he should've years and years ago.

"Guess this is like prayin', ain't it? Sammy caught me a few months ago. He wasn't even surprised I'm still doing this. Told me it was, uh — It was okay. Even if I just… never did. And you know what? I don't think l can." He gives a small laugh. "Hell, I only leave messages when I'm feeling, I dunno, brave? Like some part of me thinks you could still hear it and tell me to get lost."

Logically, he knows Cas wouldn't have kicked him to the curb. Wanted him just as much.

"God I listen to it almost every night dude. Just hearing this stupid fucking line —  It's like hitting rewind, for a few seconds."

The rest comes off easy, in its own way

"I miss you, Buddy. And I — I love you more than I know what to do with. I wish it would've been enough. But instead, it killed you."

He ends it, and calls back. Just to listen to the only thing he'll ever hear Cas say again. It’s not a replacement, never will be until he can see if Heaven really does have an angels left.

But the only faith he ever had is just an echo on the other end.

"This is my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail."

[pedros-mustache-main]

when your love reaches me (i)

summary: 1978 is decidedly not 2020. nor is your life ever the same when you meet a guitarist, curly haired, soft spoken, and true.

word count: 9.3k+ (i am abundantly sorry for how long this is. curl up with a snack, my dudes)

warnings: required: total suspension of disbelief. also: screwed up historical timeline, slight angst, language, innuendo, suggestive moments and blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smut (not 18+ but be mindful)

a/n: hi! a day late, but i wanted to respect the ‘out of time’ epilogue which came out yesterday as this is very much inspired by @perriwiinkle​ and her lovely fic. this is my take on a similar theme, only with brian and just three (3) parts. thank you to @deacyblues​ for your beta-ing help on this mini-series; i heart emoji you. anyways, let me know what you think. enjoy! xoxo!

in this chapter: something—be it fate or otherwise—transplants you to a place you do not belong.

it’s raining hard, thunder and lightning battling for dominance in the gray sky. you clutch your textbook to your chest and duck your head against the onslaught, feet nearly slipping on the flat stones of the sidewalk. london weather has always been unpredictable, but you’ve never seen a storm like this, never been caught in one either. it’s too far to make it back to your flat without catching pneumonia and the library feels just as far away so you push forward. the sky turns bright white followed closely by a boom of thunder, and you squeak, picking up your pace. 

across a muddy patch of grass stands union concert hall. it’s likely to be locked on a saturday evening, but it’s worth a shot. you squelch through the mud and run the remaining hundred yards to old brick building. your hands, wet with rain, scrabble against the brass doorknob, which, to your surprise, turns with ease. muttering a prayer of thanks, you wrench the door open as a gust of wind turns the rain sideways. you slip inside, breathing heavy, and fall against the door as it shuts.

silence. blessed silence.

you heave a sigh of relief and run a hand through your drenched hair.

the concert hall is empty, but the lonesome rows of chairs and desolate stage come as no surprise. with fall break around the corner, imperal college is largely devoid of students on the weekends. there’s parties to be had, memories to be made; no one wants to be cooped up on campus. you, however, don’t have that luxury. there’s too much to be done in too tight a span of time.

as the rain pounds the roof and slides down the windows, you take a seat at the back of the hall. the plastic chair creaks underneath your weight, and each time you move a soggy squish echoes about the room. your textbook—creating exhibitions: collaborations in the planning, development, and design of innovative experiences—rests open on your lap. the laminated binding curls as it dampens, but you’re soaked to the bone. there’s no avoiding the damage. if you must, you’ll pay the thirty pounds at the end of the semester to turn your rental into a purchase.

if you think about it, it really is quite sad, the way you’re sitting on your own on a saturday night, highlighter clamped between your teeth, eyes scanning the pages of your textbook with far too much interest. if you think about it, you know you should be out with your friends. this morning rachel had tried to convince you to come out after your shift at the museum, but you’d said no—again. you’ve been given a full ride in the masters of science communication program, and you’ll do nothing to jeopardize the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. rachel insists that a simple evening at a local pub is harmless, and you know she’s right, but your answer is always the same: no. it’s easier that way.

you read for awhile, highlighting the text and annotating the margins of your textbook with the thoughts or questions that flit through your mind. as you dry, the legs of your jeans turn stiff, and your hair feels frizzy with humidity. not for the first time, you wish you’d remembered the pink umbrella leaning against the coatrack in your flat.

an hour passes, maybe two. with a heavy sigh, you shut your book and meander through the rows of chairs toward the bathroom. the washroom light flickers a muted yellow when you switch it on, an incessant electronic buzz filling the room. crossing to the counter, you stare at yourself in the mirror. you look atrocious: tired bags under your eyes, streaks of mascara on your cheeks, hair unruly, clothes sodden and weighed down on your body. you’d laugh if it wasn’t so damn depressing. you look like a madwoman, like some sort of victorian nightmare. in an effort to clean yourself up, you splash cold water on your face and scrub the makeup away until your cheeks hurt. you wet your hair, run your fingers through the tangles, and attempt to dry yourself under the hand dryer. 

it’s still raining outside. there’s a single skylight in the bathroom, and when you look up, it’s a funny sensation, watching the rain slam against the window but never hit your face. you smile faintly; there’s just something about being inside when it rains. it’s similar to a warm hug or a—

a crack of lightning breaks you from your reverie. the sound goes straight to your heart, stopping it with the force of its blow. with a gasp, you clamp your hands against your ears, eyes screwed shut, and you’re suddenly six years old again, scared of a simple thunderstorm. white light pours through the skylight, drowning the room in an almost heavenly glow. thunder trips over the heels of the lightning in an effort to make itself known. the thunder is more like a roar, and you swear you can feel the foundation of the building jostle.

then all is quiet. even the sound of the rain on the roof has stopped.

you pull your hands from your ears, breathing heavy, and look around the bathroom. maybe... maybe you should call a cab or an uber. you’d rather not be stuck in the concert hall overnight, and the storm feels eerily close. 

grabbing your bag from the counter, you fumble for your phone in its depths. you come away empty-handed, but you must have left it on your chair alongside your textbook. you pull open the bathroom door and step into a crush of bodies.

your heart stutters in your chest, confusion stealing the air from your lungs.

there’s a crowd of people in the concert hall. it’s hard to move, to breathe, to think. the room is dim, lit only by orange and white lights on the stage. there’s music pounding through the room, and it sounds vaguely familiar, but you’re too stunned and confused to place it. a haze of smoke filters over the heads of onlookers; the air smells like cigarettes and sweat. where had everyone come from? how long had you been in the bathroom? surely not long enough for a band and a crowd and—

a thought strikes you: this is not the union concert hall you were just sat in seeking shelter from a bad storm.

a hand circles your arm, and you startle, head twisting to the left. “you okay, love?” a voice asks. the man is short with warm-toned skin, his hair like a dark halo around his head. he stares at you in earnest, and you’re sure you’ve gone pale.

in lieu of answering, you stumble backwards, back into the bathroom. the subway-tiled walls of moments past have turned a dull green, and the hand dryer has been replaced with a paper-towel dispenser. the linoleum under your shoes is grimy, unwashed and stained. the air is heavy with cigarette smoke thanks to the women lounging around the open stalls, dripping ashes to the floor with a simple flick of the wrist. the scent clings to the inside of your nose, and you blame the tears pricking the corners of your eyes on the smell.

“excuse me,” you mutter, shouldering past a lithe woman with blown-out blonde hair. she gives you a once over, her brow furrowed, before leaving the bathroom.

at the sink, you brace your hands against the edge. the sink feels like cheap plastic, easy enough to rip from the wall. where the sturdy white countertop has gone, you aren’t sure. for the second time in one day, you splash water on your heated face.

“hey. are you okay?”

you look up and meet the doe eyes of a short girl standing behind you. her hair is bobbed at her neck, her eyes lined with a deep purple liner. her appearance is warped by the faded mirror, but you can see the way she’s looking at you, and you don’t blame her. you’re sure you look as crazy as you feel.

you straighten at the sink and shut the water off. “i’m just...” you flounder for a good excuse. your insides feel like mush, and your brain has paused, as if the loading symbol is looping over and over in place of producing any coherent thought. “do you have a phone i could borrow?”

“there’s a payphone around the corner,” she says, her words slow with apprehension. “did something happen out there? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

there’s a pounding in the back of your head, hard and steady, and you rub your temples. “i was studying and then i was here and i don’t really remember the rest.” you pause. “it’s been a long day.”

the girl’s face softens as she smiles. she moves to stand beside you and withdraws a thin tube of lipstick from her clutch. “i know what you mean. i can get pretty bogged down and feel like the time’s flown by and i’ve been asleep the at the wheel, but, god, it’s queen! they started here, you know, in this very concert hall. and now they’re back, just for us! how bloody exciting is that?” as she speaks, her irish accent grows stronger, in tandem with the excitement lighting her face.

you frown, unsure if you’ve heard her correctly. “queen? like... the band queen or queen elizabeth?”

she pauses in her lipstick application. “the band queen, silly. are you really that knackered?” with a grin, she puts the lipstick down and takes your shoulders in her hands. “you’re at a queen concert, love. it’s friday, september first, ninteen-seventy-eight. has been all day, ever since you woke up in your jammies.” she laughs, her blunt bob swaying as tilts her head to the side. “you gonna be fine?”

your first thought: no, absolutely not. 

the only answer you can give, punctuated by a weak smile: “yeah. yeah, i’m gonna be all right. thanks.”

the girl puts her makeup away and gives your shoulder a final squeeze. “i think they’ll be finishing soon, so i’m gonna pop back out so i don’t miss it. try and get some rest, yeah? you look like you could use it.”

she exits the bathroom, a song momentarily pouring through the door, and you find yourself alone in the empty room.

before you can stop yourself, you twist on your heel and lunge for the nearest toilet. you vomit, heaving what little remains in your stomach, until there is nothing left to unearth. dropping back against the stall, you duck your head between your knees. 

this is just a fever dream. maybe you got scared during the storm, hit your head, and passed out on the bathroom floor. there’s no way in hell—no way in hell—this is nineteen-seventy-eight. that’s preposterous. and sure, queen might have gotten their start at imperial college—everyone knows that—but that was eons ago. freddie mercury is dead, john deacon is retired, and brian may and roger taylor are well within their seventies. the girl must be mistaken or strung out or high or all of the above.

or maybe you are. you can’t be sure anymore.

your legs tremble beneath you as you stand. if any good has come of this, it’s that you’re dry now—suspiciously so. despite the pale sheen on your face and layer of sweat on your forehead, it’s as if you were never drenched to begin with. your cream pleated trousers have no wrinkles along the back after you spent all afternoon stuffing and unstuffing boxes on the floor. your navy top is void of the stubborn coffee stain you’d gotten this morning as you rushed into the museum ten minutes late. it’s almost as if the day never happened.

it’s almost as if the day—saturday, september fifth, twenty-twenty—is still forty-two years in the future instead of thirty minutes away from ending.

“all right, we’ve got one more for you lovelies tonight! this one’s new, so keep it a secret ‘till the record comes out, okay?”

you turn at the sound of a familiar voice amplified over a loudspeaker.

freddie mercury.

though you’ve never been a huge queen fan, you’re positive anyone with even a passing knowledge of classic rock could hear his voice and pick it out in a lineup.

heart in your throat, you sling your bag over your shoulder and squeeze out the door. the energy in the hall has heightened tenfold since you last stood in the bathroom doorway. perhaps it’s due to the fact that the concert is rapidly drawing to a close and everyone wants to drink in the last moments before it’s all over.

perhaps it’s simply because it’s queen.

as your eyes slide to the stage, you can’t help but feel a giddiness rise in your chest. your throat goes tight, eyes misty, as you weave through the crowd on auto-pilot. you’re drawn to them; who wouldn’t be? the floor shakes beneath your feet as the music surges around you. he’s magnificent—freddie. he commands the crowd with ease, and you feel at home, relaxed, like you’re watching a friend goof around. seeing him there—whole, well, happy—is nothing short of a miracle.

“aren’t they marvelous?” you turn to see the girl from the bathroom. she holds your bicep tight in her fingers. her smile is radiant, her face glowing with unbridled joy. “i’m glad you made it out for this!”

you nod dumbly, swiveling back to drink in the final moments. matthew at the coffee shop you frequent would kill for something like this. you want to text him, to rub it in his face with a good-natured wink, but he hasn’t been born yet, has he? seeing freddie mercury on stage confirms it.

you’re not in twenty-twenty anymore.

the song draws to a close, and you find yourself smiling despite the uncertainty of your current situation. you can’t help but applaud alongside the rest of the audience. someone shouts “encore” but freddie waves him off with a laugh.

“we just did a fucking encore!” he says.

they take their bows—all four of them—and then disappear backstage. a moment passes before the house lights flicker on, and the crowd begins to disperse. trash litters the floor, and the room doesn’t feel as magical as it did seconds before, but you find it hard to breathe nonetheless. try as you might, you can’t tear your eyes away from the stage.

“oh my god, wasn’t that brilliant?” bathroom-girl practically jumps up and down on her ballet-slippered feet. “i’m anna, in case you were wondering,” she says.

you hesitate. there’s too much going on around you, so many things you’ve only read about or seen in pictures: the fashion, the hair, the fucking band. you feel dizzy—dizzy with fear and excitement. it’s like you’re standing in line for a rollercoaster. you know what’s coming: the slow climb up the first hill, anticipation bubbling in your stomach before the first drop, then the madness of letting yourself plummet at incredible speeds. all you can do is laugh, just like you do on the rollercoaster.

“[y/n],” you say between fits of amusement. “sorry! i don’t know what’s gotten into me!” you press a hand to your mouth, shaking your head back and forth.

anna grins. “that was me when the concert first started.” she bends her head toward yours conspiratorially. “i nearly pissed myself when i saw john deacon walk out for the first time.”

your laughter turns to girlish giggles and holding her forearm is all you can do to keep from falling to the floor. you’re drunk, surely. drunk off what, you can’t say, but you’ve felt like this before.

“hey!” anna’s eyes go wide, and you can see the lightbulb turn on above her head. “i saw where they parked their vans. we could go have a look-see!”

your initial reaction is a resounding no. just the thought of standing mere meters away from queen makes you want to break out into hives. you’re sure to say something stupid and embarrassing or screw up some time-continuum-thing. you’ve seen enough doctor who to know not to mess about with time.

oh god, you must be really fucking crazy if this is what you’re life has come to, deciding what the right or wrong move is based on a children’s television show.

yet there’s still a sliver of your heart holding on to the hope that this is all a dream. you could wake up at any moment, still in the concert hall, yes, but where you belong and a soaked mess from the rainstorm. so, even though you know you shouldn’t, even though your heart of hearts tells you that you’re a girl out of place and far away from home, you nod and let anna drag you toward the a side-exit door.

outside, the air is chilly, but it soothes your hot skin. 

standing outside the concert hall is perhaps more strange than standing in it. you know this spot; you walk behind the building every day. if you follow the winding path toward the dormitories and then veer to the left, you’ll eventually reach your flat—or you would if this were some other time. it’s not a terribly long walk, and most of the time, you find it refreshing. but today, with the sun replaced by the moon and the evening air and anna’s nervous energy, you find yourself a mite too cold. the cold settles in your stomach, not on your body, and you catalog the area. the parking lot has been repaved, all the dips and cracks you know so well gone. the tree which overhangs a dumpster in the corner is but a small sapling, and the dumpster is nowhere to be seen. the cold in your belly spreads to your chest, and, for a moment, you forget what it is anna dragged you here for.

but then her fingers grip your wrist tightly, and you remember: queen.

“look,” she whispers. “there they are.”

you follow her eyeline to the gaggle of men descending a ramp propped beneath a set of double-doors. in the thin veil of darkness you inhabit, it’s hard to make out who is who. brian is unmistakable, what with his gangly arms and legs and tilted shoulders. freddie is easy to pick out, too; he walks with a swagger only he can pull off. everyone else is a jumble of faces obscured by the night and a cloud of cigarette smoke. they’re loud, but not rowdy, and it reminds you somewhat of a group of teenage boys out to make trouble.

“let’s go over.” anna steps forward, but you stop her with a hand on her elbow.

“no, we shouldn’t. i’m sure they’ve got security, and we really can’t just waltz up there. besides, what would we say?” you shake your head. “this is close enough, don’t you think?”

“fuck no!” her exclamation startles you, your eyebrows lifting, and she laughs. “this is likely the only time we’ll be able to meet true rockstar royalty. you can stay back if you want to, but i’m gonna go.”

“go where?”

in unison, you turn with anna on the ball of your foot. your movements are slow, hers hurried, but you both come face to face with roger taylor and you both inhale sharply. 

your first thought is foolish: he looks so young. but of course he does. he’s twenty-nine here, not seventy. half a cigarette hangs out of his mouth, and his blond hair brushes the collar of his jacket as he goes to remove the cigarette and puff a plume of smoke to the side. he wears sunglasses, despite the late hour, and if you weren’t so bloody unsettled, you’d find him attractive.

anna finds her voice first. she points her thumb over her shoulder. “well, we were gonna go and... that is, we thought we might...” she heaves a sigh, and her smile turns angelic. “you put on a great show tonight.”

roger grins, his eyes fixed on anna. “i thought i saw you in the crowd.” his voice is raspy and high and dripping with innuendo. you all know he did not see anna from behind his drum set, but that doesn’t stop her from pulling her lower lip between her teeth and batting her eyelashes. 

“oy, rog, can we get a move on, please?” 

roger frowns and slips between you and anna, his hand firm on her bicep. he shouts in the general direction of the disembodied voice. “don’t get your fucking knickers in a twist, crystal, jesus!” he rolls his eyes and looks back at anna. “sorry, he’s like a damn mother hen. i didn’t catch your name.”

“anna.” she’s breathless, ready to drip to the floor in a puddle of goo. it’s painfully obvious, and roger seems to like that. his hand rubs an untraceable pattern over her shoulder. 

“and your friend?” he doesn’t look at you when he speaks, just jerks his head in your direction.

you should be offended, but really you feel like crying. an overwhelming homesickness builds in your chest. everyone you know, every place you hold so dear, none of it is as it should be. those fleeting magical moments during the concert are quickly wearing off, and you feel yourself slipping back to the panic you’d fought in the bathroom.

“that’s [y/n].”

“would you gals like to join us for some drinks?” this time roger does look at you, his gaze soft but purposeful. he’s daring you to turn him down.

maybe it’s the homesickness. maybe it’s the idea that you can be anything, anyone, here with few personal repercussions. maybe it’s the haughty glint in roger’s eye. whatever it is, it finally gets you talking.

“lead the way,” you say, your eyebrow raised in silent challenge.

roger’s smirk widens, and he tugs anna against his side with an arm around the waist. “gladly.”

the inside of the tour bus is cramped. you suspected it might be so based on the outside, but you didn’t realize just how tight the quarters would truly be. you’re stiff, sat on a stool between two men with long brown hair and equally long faces. there’s a tremor in your leg, and you itch to steal the cigarette out of the man-on-your-left’s mouth and smoke your anxiety away. 

for anna’s part, she seems at ease, and you envy that. she’s wrapped around roger’s arm, pressed against him on the couch, and in that moment you feel a certain flare of hatred toward her. you’d always been jealous of the girls who could so effortlessly flirt and make a move and get what they want. you never had to the confidence to follow suit. sitting as you are near the back of the bus, crammed between two sullen and tired roadies, you’re reminded of secondary school lunches. a rush of discomfort heats the back of your neck, and you shift on the stool. your movement must disturb to the man next to you because he shifts, too. he leans away, twisting his neck to look at you.

“you good?” the smoke that leaves his parted lips circles around your head, stinging your eyes.

“i wish everyone would stop asking me that,” you mutter. it comes out before you can stop it, and when you realize what you’ve said, you sink down further on your stool. your hand comes to squeeze your forehead. “oh god.”

but the man just laughs. “here.” he hands you an unopened beer. it’s cold to the touch, dripping with sweat. “you look like you could use it.”

you lift it slightly in a sign of thanks before popping the tab and taking a swig. it’s cheap, and that surprises you considering it’s queen, but you drink it anyway. 

“so, who picked you up?”

your eyebrow arches, and you look at the man on your left with a mixture of shock and distain. “no one, thank you. i came on my own accord and i’ll leave in the same way.”

out of the corner of your eye, from his place on a low bench in front of you, you think you see brian turn slightly, his curls swaying with the movement. but he doesn’t face you after all, so it must have been your imagination.

“okay, okay!” the man holds his hands up in surrender, mirth etched along the lines in his face. “sorry!”

you resist the urge to huff, cross your arms, and pout like a child. you pull at your beer instead.

the man nudges you with his elbow. “chris taylor, by the way. crystal.” he points to the man on your right. “that’s ratty—pete.”

pete looks tired enough to fall out of his chair. all he can do is raise his eyebrows in greeting and drop his head back against the wall. 

“i’m [y/n].”

crystal mirrors ratty’s movements and stretches his legs out underneath the card-table. “well, i must admit that you might be one of the most level-headed lasses we’ve had in here—and we’ve had plenty of girls grace this bus.”

you aren’t sure if he’s bragging or simply making conversation, so you ignore the comment and say, “i’ve had a... strange day. it’s a lot to take in.” 

you’re not lying. really, it is a lot to take in. the tour bus is hot and sweaty, but conversation is quiet, like a background hum. it’s not what you thought it would be; nothing is.

“didn’t think you’d end up here?”

you shake your head. “absolutely not.”

crystal smiles, and you find yourself smiling back, the truth in your words humorous to you and you alone.

the bus door opens, and a flurry of sound enters the already-cramped space. crystal sits forward; ratty seems to wake up. at once, the energy is higher. you feel your heart begin to pound against your ribcage. 

freddie enters the bus in all his post-concert glory. you’d been a baby when he died, but now you sit at the back of his tour bus, watching as he laughs and jokes and lives. it makes you want to throw up all over again.

he stands in the center of the bus, hands on his hips, surveying the jumble of roadies and groupies and band members. “well?” the corner of your mouth quirks upward at the sound of his voice; you can’t help it. “have we decided where we’re crashing yet?”

“uh, yeah.” john deacon pipes up from his spot at the front of the bus. you hadn’t noticed him all night, but there he stands, leaning against the driver’s seat, a map in hand. “i think we’re gonna—”

“oh hell, we don’t need that!” roger slaps the map out of john’s hands. it crumples between his fingers, and he all but pulls anna onto his lap. she squeals in delight. “we’ve got our own personal tour guide right here. not to mention brian. he’s got to know his way about.”

“don’t forget [y/n], roger!” anna says, ever the good friend.

no, please. please, for the love of god, forget [y/n].

as one, the tour bus turns to look at you. this time bile does rise in the back of your throat. 

sitting in the back of the bus you can handle. crystal is nice, and simply being in the presence of music royalty is sure to be the peak of the rest of your life—whatever that may look like. but having them all look at you, expectantly, waiting for you to giggle or blush or say something, it’s that too much you told crystal about moments earlier. only this time, it’s so much you feel like your head might explode.

even though it feels like decades, only a few seconds have gone by since everyone began waiting for you to make a peep. so when you look at anna and say, “i’m sure you know better than me,” it doesn’t sound awkward. it sounds like a comment shared between friends. you’re thankful for that, at least.

“okay, fine.” anna claps her hands together. “what are you in the mood for, freddie?”

your eyebrow lifts at her familiarity, and beside you, crystal chuckles behind his hand. god, she’s good. you are... decidedly not.

“anything fabulous. we’ve just had a good show, if i do say so myself, and i want to have some fun before we really have to start working.”

“we are working, fred.” it’s the first thing you’ve heard brian say all evening. you can’t see his face from where you’re sitting, so his voice sounds far away. far away but ever so nice to the ears.

freddie waves his hands dismissively. “you know what i mean.”

“there’s a disco club a few blocks from here,” anna offers. “it’s not garishly disco, but it’s fun.”

there’s a pause before freddie says, “it’s late, so it’ll have to do.” he turns to brian with a grin. “do you think we should call ahead?”

twenty minutes and three phone calls later, you’re walking side-by-side with crystal and ratty, hands twitching at your sides, desperately wishing for the comfort of a pair of pockets. if you’d hazard a guess, you’d say there’s about twenty people headed for the club. you know you should feel happy, exuberant at the chance to party with queen in the 70s, but your head hurts. it really, really hurts, and you haven’t the faintest idea where you’ll spent the night. you have no money, no contacts—nothing but the clothes on your back and the half-empty purse thrown over your shoulder.

“[y/n], where are you from?” ratty asks. his questions is harmless enough, but it breaks your underarms out in an uncomfortable sweat. how can you explain that you’re from here, the very here you’re walking on, without also explaining why you have no idea where the disco club is or where the charming flower stand on the corner has gone? 

you settle on something vague, but passable. “not from around here.” the toe of your shoe kicks at a loose pebble, which skips forward, nearing the long strides of brian. 

“on holiday then?”

“something like that, yeah.” you smile to soften the blow of your unsubstantial answers, and it seems to appease.

you chat with the roadies about inconsequential things—roger’s horrible morning breath, the oil crisis and its impact on the upcoming tour, whether or not pigeons lay eggs. it’s small talk, and you ask more questions than give answers, but it relaxes the ache in your shoulders. you have to remind yourself breathe, drink in what you can while you can. you’ll be okay. 

you have to be.

the group rounds the corner like an amoeba, all uneven edges and uncertain direction. though the hour is rapidly closing in on one a.m., the road is filled. a few of the cars closest to the curb honk and frenzied arms reach out windows to wave as queen passes them by. a girl flashes her tits from the sunroof of her car; roger gives her a thumbs up.

“is it always like this?” you ask.

crystal laughs. “this is nothin’, dove. we’ve got this party planned for october in new orleans, and i am honestly a little bit afraid of what might happen.”

the club comes into view, music ebbing through the open front door. climax is written in bright yellow lightbulbs across the marquee, and someone squeezes anna’s shoulder with a laugh. the line waiting to enter is long, roped off in anticipation of your arrival. those in queue push forward as your party begins to enter. freddie signs a few autographs on the back of receipts. brain scrawls across the crest of someone’s hip with a shit-eating grin on his face.

the resounding thought that you shouldn’t be here flickers through your mind and not for the first time. you ignore it as crystal leads you into the club, a hand tucked in the small of your back. his touch is anything but sexual, and it’s a relief. he likely sees you as a lost puppy, out of her depth, and you might have to lean into that come closing time.

“do you want something to drink?” he shouts over the music and laughter and shouting. 

you nod eagerly. “yes, please!”

weaving through horde of dancers, you find a spot at a cocktail table tucked near a back corner. “boogie wonderland” plays over the louder speakers, and it grates against your headache. the disco ball in the center of the room spins and spins and spins, casting sprinkles of white light over the room. you can’t stop watching it, wondering what it would feel like to wrap yourself around the ball and stay there forever. it probably wouldn’t feel very different from how you feel right now, though your legs are planted firmly on the ground.

“lost in thought?”

you turn, expecting to see crystal with your drink, but you’re met with the incredibly tall form of brian may. you have to tip your head back to meet his eyes he’s standing so close. he must notice because he takes a fraction of a step backwards, his smile widening.

your mouth goes dry, but you manage a shaky nod. “yeah, i guess.” you blink and run your eyes over his face. like roger, he’s painfully young. his curls are dark and full, his skin smooth. he’s handsome, ridiculously so, and despite what some may believe, you think he knows it too.

“you’ve been awful quiet tonight.” he leans against the table with ease. the edge, which reaches your chest, seems to dig into his hip, and he adjusts himself to a more comfortable stance. “most girls are chatty.”

“that’s what crystal said.”

brian chuckles under his breath. “yeah, crystal would know.” he glances over his shoulder then looks back at you. “[y/n], right?”

you’re surprised he remembered or overheard or asked someone before walking over. it’s a simple thing, but just hearing your name grounds you. you don’t care who says it; it reminds you that you are, in fact, still human. and it doesn’t hurt that brian’s voice is like butter. it could put anyone at ease.

for the first time that evening, you feel a lightness in your chest as you smirk and meet his gaze. “brian, right?”

at this, he throws his head back to laugh. his reaction brings a blush to your face, and you duck your head, uncertain where your burst of flirty energy has come from. moments ago, you’d been yearning for the comfort of a good bed and solid night’s rest. now, you could stand in this dark corner and look at brian, hear him laugh, until you fall asleep standing.

when he’s calmed, brian looks at you again. there’s a shift in his stare, one you can’t quite place. “what do you do, [y/n]?”

this time, you decide to answer honestly. “i’m a student, most of the time,” you say. “but eventually i’ll be a curator for museums.”

his eyebrows lift. “a curator? that’s bloody brilliant.” 

you shrug. “i like history and photography and design. it’s kind of the perfect blend.” glancing at your empty hands, you fumble for your words then meet his eyes through the underside of your lashes. “a little birdie told me you’re pretty smart yourself.”

he tilts his head in a noncommittal manner, and you swear you can see a tinge of color rise along the top of his exposed chest. “i suppose.”

“what is your specialty again? besides the guitar, of course.”

“astrophysics with a concentration in interplanetary dust.” before you can make a quip about how much interplanetary dust is actually around to study, he leans close. he has to bend at the waist to lower his mouth to the shell of your ear, and when he speaks, it’s hardly above a whisper. “i’m good at other things, too, you know? besides space and the guitar.”

you draw back slightly, enough look into his eyes. his pupils are dark, overpowering the hazel tint of his irises. if you move an inch, your lips will brush his mouth; you stay still, your eyes darting back and forth between his.

you feel utterly ridiculous for a fraction of a second. he’s brian may, first of all, and you are decidedly not worthy of his attentions. but more than that, this isn’t your home, your time. the thought makes you cringe. 

fucking hell, you don’t belong here.

his long fingers skim your waist. the touch is feather-light, a mere whisper, but it pulls you from your thoughts.

“what are you thinking?” he breathes.

“not much.” it’s a half-truth; you can barely focus on your existential crisis with his fingertips working along your skin as they are. he’s brazen enough to dip underneath the hem of your shirt just enough to touch the skin of your hip. you bite your tongue. “wondering where you got the nerve to be so cheeky all of a sudden.”

he withdrawals his hand as if he’s been bitten by fire, cheeks gone red as flame. “sorry, sorry,” he stammers. “i just thought that—”

you know you shouldn’t, that it will only lead to trouble, but you do it anyway.

you grab his wrist and squeeze tight. “i’m only joking, brian.” your grip relaxes as you grin. “come dance with me.”

he huffs a sigh of relief, shaking his head. “damn, you really—”

you interrupt him again, your feet moving on their own accord toward the dance floor. there’s this strange desire in you—a desire to forget—and he seems willing enough to be the one to help you lose track of your troubles. “come dance with me.”

“i don’t really know how,” he admits, though his smile is wide, showing off his teeth.

“me neither! we can look like idiots together.”

somewhat reluctantly, brian follows you onto the dance floor. the music is louder here, the song changed to something you don’t recognize. you weren’t lying when you said dancing wasn’t your forte. in primary school, you’d stepped on the toes of every boy in your music class during the week of mandatory dance lessons. things haven’t changed much since then as you promptly land your foot on brian’s seconds into the song.

you gasp and clamp your hands over your mouth in an effort to obscure your laughter. “shit, i’m sorry!”

“it’s fine!” he yells, straining to make his voice heard over the thrumming of the music. “the clogs, they’re kinda like a protective shell.”

swaying to the beat, your hands slide along his forearms. “oh yeah? what do they protect you from?” 

“klutzy girls like you.”

looking back on the moment years later, you wonder if that’s when you fell in love with him first, on the dance floor, his gangly body unaccustomed to fluid movement. he makes you laugh with his two left feet, and you forget, like you’d hoped, that you do not belong in his arms. as the music ebbs and flows like the tide, you follow it, swinging, swaying, twirling in whatever way you can. you’re sweaty, and he’s sweaty, but you’re both smiling. at some point, you bump into anna who bumps into roger who bumps into freddie and then it’s some version of disco mosh pit, arms and elbows and feet tangled together. you’re laughing—truly laughing for what feels like the first time in ages—and, if you could, you’d stay in that moment forever.

the music slows. you breathe hard, nodding as anna whispers something in your ear about leaving with roger. you aren’t sure if you’ll see her again, aren’t sure if it matters, but you’re thankful for her nonetheless. hers was the first kind face you met, and for that, you can never repay her.

a pair of arms wrap around your middle, pulling you tight against a lean chest, dipping you side to side as the music trills in the background. he mumbles against the skin of your neck. “rog’s leaving with anna.”

you nod and curl your fingernails around his forearms. “i know.”

“is it too presumptuous of me to ask if you’ll do the same? not leave with him, i mean. leave with me.”

you could say something about his proposal being too forward after only a handful of hours together, but you don’t. you feel dizzy from dancing, dizzy with a sense of freedom. normally, you’d never follow a guy home after just meeting. it’s never been in your nature, despite the times you wished it were. tonight, though, you feel like you can do anything.

and if that means letting brian may take you back to his hotel where he’ll likely screw the daylights out of you, so be it.

you twist slightly in his arms, enough to look up at him. you repeat your words of earlier. there’s no hint of a challenge in your voice this time, only desire. “lead the way.” 

by the time you reach the door of brian’s hotel room, you’re fumbling with what buttons on his shirt are actually buttoned. his lips are pressed against yours, and you can feel his smile on your teeth as you struggle to both kick the door open with your heel and work the last two buttons.

“you know,” you mumble against his mouth. “you’d make it a lot easier for me if you just don’t button any of them. you’re halfway there, anyway.”

“so i’ve been told,” he replies, his own fingers pushing the three buttons of your blouse through the small holes.  

the comment gives you pause. your hands still on the warm skin of his shoulders, and you pull back. his eyelids are heavy, his lips parted and plump. you don’t know what it is about his words that make you stop. maybe it’s the idea of him in a similar situation with another girl. of course, you know you aren’t the first concert-goer he’s dragged home; you aren’t that much of an idiot. still, the thought niggles at the back of your brain.

his hands slide away from your shirt to cup your face, and he bends down to kiss you softly. this kiss is different from the ones he’d given you in the lift—hungry and demanding—and in the hallway—earnest and consuming. he’s gentle, painfully so, and tears spring to your eyes. you’ve never been kissed like this, not so tenderly. it makes your heart stop.

“just you and me, [y/n],” he whispers when he breaks the touch. “just you and me.”

you nod and finish pushing the white shirt off his shoulders. 

he doesn’t fuck you. he truly makes love to you, worshipping your body until you both are spent and sweaty, sheets tangled around your limbs. when he collapses beside you with a soft groan, you feel the overwhelming urge to cry. it’s embarrassing, really. but it’s been such a long day, and you’re tired—tired and happy and warm. you throw your arm over your eyes to keep from showing your emotion. you absolutely refuse to be the girl who cries after having sex with brian may.

you feel the bedsheets rustle as he props himself up on his elbow. his fingernail skims along your collarbone. “you’re so... divine.”

you drop your arm to stare at him, heart thumping in your chest. his eyes flick up to meet yours. he smiles and looks at you as if he’s known you his whole life, not seven hours. there’s nothing you can say that will capture how you feel in this moment, so you simply grab him by the neck and pull him down for a bruising kiss. 

later, when you’re drifting off to sleep, one of his sleep shirts swallowing you, his chest against your back, one leg pushed between both of yours, you wonder if you’ll wake up in the morning and find it was all a dream. it certainly would make for a good story once you make it home to your flat. even so, if it isn’t a dream, the part of you that so desperately yearned for home hours earlier is slipping away. 

you could stay here, like this, if he let you. 

shaking your head, you burrow against him. such silly thoughts. even if you have to stay here, out of place, for the rest of your life, this night was a one-time thing. you must know that. so, you’ll cherish his arms around you while you can and commit everything to memory. 

come morning, you find yourself still in nineteen-seventy-eight and deliciously sore. you’re embarrassed to say you smile at the revelation of both situations.

stretching your arms over your head as your eyes flutter open, you groan with your stretch. after your eyes have adjusted to the bright morning light streaming through the open curtains, you look around the room and find brian sitting at the small table in the middle of the kitchenette. he has the hotel phone cradled against his shoulder and ear and looks delightfully sleep-muddled. you slip from bed, uncertain how you should act.

will he send you away now that the night is gone? you wouldn’t blame him. your fingers twist the hem of his shirt as you sway from foot to foot at the base of the bed.

he looks up and waves you over. a good sign, at least.

bare feet padding against the carpet, you cross to his side, but don’t reach out to smooth the unruly curls on his head as you wish you could. the thought crosses your mind that you are painfully in love with him already, and it doesn’t even phase you. it just makes you laugh to yourself.

“what do you want for breakfast?”

you blink. “sorry?”

“breakfast? what do you want?”

“i don’t really care. anything,” you say with a shrug. at his pointed look, you concede with a roll of your eyes. “fine. a waffle.”

he adds a waffle to the order, thanks the person on the other end, then puts the phone down. he’s quick to grab your waist and pull you to his lap, his lips attaching to a sensitive spot on your neck. you giggle and swat his shoulder.

“i thought you wouldn’t be so keen about me come morning,” you admit, keeping your tone playful as you pull back to brush the hair from his face.

his forehead crinkles. “why wouldn’t i be?”

you shrug. “we barely know each other. plus, i’m [y/n] [y/l/n] and you’re brian may. not exactly an obvious match.”

he’s quiet a moment, eyes searching yours, before he says, “what do you think about plato’s allegory of the cave?”

you choke on a laugh. “i’m sorry?”

“you know, plato’s cave—what do you think about it?”

he’s being serious, something that absolutely stuns you into answering honestly. you settle on his knee, arms twisted around his neck, as you consider your response. “well, i mean, i think it’s a good metaphor.” you pause. “it makes me think of people and their cell phones.”

“cell phones?”

shaking your head, you backtrack. “i mean, just technology in general. when it comes to technology, we never really know what we’re getting, do we, usually until it’s too late. i know it wasn’t his intention, but the cave makes me think of that. the way technology can so easily take control and we’re powerless to stop it.”

your words hang in the air for a long while. then he dips forward and claims your mouth with his. you shuffle in his lap, surprised, a soft oh parting your lips. he kisses you with that same hunger you’d felt in the lift the previous evening. when he draws back, he presses his forehead to yours.

“come with me,” he breathes.

you still completely, hands dropping from his neck to his arms. the clock on the desk in the corner ticks, loud and annoying. “what?”

“come with me.” he draws back to run a hand over the hair framing your face. “on tour. we leave next month.”

“you’re insane, brian.”

he shakes his head. “no, i’m not.” his words are resolute, anything but unsure.

“we’ve only just met and i don’t think you know what—”

“i know what i’m saying, [y/n].” his hands move to hold your face. “come with me. i’m crazy about you. say what you will about the timing, but i don’t care. you’re smart and funny and beautiful and i want to get to know you more, but i’m leaving. i’d kill to have you by my side.”

“brian...”

your head is spinning, your throat gone dry. someone knocks on the door in the hall—room service—but he keeps talking.

“it’s north america first, then europe, then asia. it’s long, i know, but you don’t have to stay the whole time. i couldn’t ask you to leave your studies like that. you can leave any time you want.”

“brian,” you say again, this time more forcefully, yet he continues.

“i just think that... after last night... fuck, i really like you, [y/n], and i’d hate to see some other guy swoop in while i’m gone.”

he stops at last, breathing heavy, his wiry frame practically trembling with anxiety. you smooth your hands down his neck and across his shoulders, smiling softly. and maybe you’re just as crazy as he is because you lean in, kiss his lips, and say, “okay, i’ll come with you.”

you don’t think twice. don’t have to, really.

he grins, his fingers squeezing your thighs. “really?”

you nod. “really. but only so long as we can go to a disco every now and again. i think john would like that.”

he laughs and delves his fingers in your hair, kissing you hard. you forget about the breakfast waiting in the hall. it doesn’t matter.

a month and a half later, you’re stood outside the record company’s london office, thumbing through your hastily-acquired, perhaps-not-totally-legal passport. crystal had gotten it for you. there being no record of your birth, you aren’t sure how he managed it, but you don’t ask any questions.

the last month and a half have been a whirlwind, to say the least.

you’ve been, largely, happy. any chance you get is spent by brian’s side, and he seems just as eager to pass his free hours with you. you were able to snag a job at a corner diner to make some money for basic necessities—a change of clothes, for starters—and anna, also invited on the tour, gave you free reign of her pull-out sofa without asking for an explanation. 

but despite spending more time in brian’s hotel room than anna’s living room, and despite the blissed-out evenings and comfortable mornings and long chats and shared moments of quiet, despite everything that makes you happy here, you still know it’s not right. it’s not where you belong.

so as you’re standing outside the record company, heavy suitcases at your feet, roadies and groupies alike milling about, you can’t help but feel on edge. it’s that same feeling you had the first night you arrived: your heart is in your throat, your chest tight. 

maybe it’s the clothes: the tight, flared jeans, white prairie blouse, chunky tan heels. it’s cute, but it’s not you. not yet, anyway.

maybe it’s the hair: you’d had to get it cut earlier in the month, anna dragging you to a salon after claiming your hair was too dowdy. when you look in the mirror now, you feel like farrah fawcett, and that’s not totally bad, but it’s taken some getting used to.

maybe it’s the lack of technology: you’re so used to your phone being attached to your palm, or your car keys jingling in your purse, or your earbuds falling out of said purse at inopportune times. now, you just have a bag with a book in it and a few pieces of really uncomfortable makeup. 

all of it serves as a reminder that this is not home.

“ready to go?”

you look up from your passport and squint as the sun hits your eyes. brian stands in front of you, and he moves to block the sunlight. you laugh. “you’re like my own personal sunblocker.” 

“it’s a gift and a curse.” dropping a duffle bag, he bends to unzip it and pull out a box wrapped in plain brown paper. “here, i got you something.”

you frown. “brian, that’s not necessary.”

he pushes the box toward you. “just hush and take it.”

with a sigh, you take the box from his hands. over your shoulder, gerry stickells, tour manager, calls for everyone to load the bus with their belongings. the flight to dallas doesn’t leave for several hours, but he likes to be punctual, and the band plus thirty-odd crew and three or four extra girls makes for a hard group to wrangle at once. you don’t envy him his job.

brian leans a little closer, dropping his voice as he watches gerry herd stragglers toward the bus doors. “open it before he comes to shout at us.”

“fine, but you still shouldn’t have gotten me anything.” 

you rip the paper from the box then slide your nail under the edge. pushing back the cardboard folds, you find a camera nestled amongst sleeves of tissue paper. it’s a small camera, the name canon etched along the silver rim. a thin leather strap is curled around the black casing. 

“brian,” you breathe. you meet his eyes, which shine and sparkle and send a thrill to your chest. “this is too much.”

“when we met you said you liked photography. i figured there might be things you’d like to take pictures of while we’re gone.”

cradling the box against your chest, you rise to your toes to press a firm kiss to his mouth. your fingers wind in the hair at the back of his neck, and his hands come to rest on your sides. as has become custom, you feel his smile on your mouth.

“does that mean you like it?” he murmurs. 

drawing back, you nod. your cheeks hurt your smile is so wide. “yes, of course! thank you!”

gerry’s voice interrupts brian’s response, and you turn to see him, red in the face, pointing to the running vehicle. “hey, you can do that on the bus! get a move on!”

by the time you find your seat on the bus, the tour is already running behind schedule. gerry blames brian, who only shrugs in apology. there’s a brief speech of general safety and schedule from gerry then one of excitement and giddiness from freddie. then the bus rolls out of the parking lot.

you’re nestled on brian’s lap, his arms around your stomach, a game of scrabble on the table in front of you. to your right, john pulls at a cigarette.

“fred, we haven’t even left the country. i don’t want to be sick of this game before tomorrow.”

freddie sticks his tongue out. he places a letter square down and rubs his hands together. “ha! that’s... sixteen points. deaky, write it down!”

brian shifts to glance over your shoulder. “no, that’s not a word, fred.”

“of course it is!” he points to you. “[y/n], please tell him it’s a word.”

instead, you smile and take a picture of him, consternation on his face, finger pointed in the direction of the camera. he groans and rolls his eyes, dropping back against his chair. brian snuggles you close, his breath ghosting over your neck. 

as the bus heads for the airport and the game of scrabble continues, crystal leaning over your seat to add his two-cents, you lean back and sigh. there’s a warmth in your chest, in your heart, that you haven’t felt in a long time. you intertwine your fingers with brian’s and squeeze his knuckles.

maybe... maybe this where you belong after all.

~*~*~*

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