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rouiyan · 4 years ago

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𝘐𝘛'𝘚 (𝘜𝘕)𝘊𝘖𝘕𝘋𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘈𝘓. [ 𝘭.𝘥𝘩 ]

⧏ hyuck’s installment of the undone at twenty-one collective ⧐

synopsis: where you and donghyuck realize that falling in love is not just a matter of time but of circumstances, impulsive decisions, and reckless emotions. well, mostly just reckless emotions. or in short, the two times you dumped him and the one time you didn't.

✧ lee donghyuck x (fem.) reader + bestfriend!lee jeno ✧ college au, slight enemies to loverz, fake dating au

✧ genres : angst, fluff, pining ✧ word count : 18.3k ✧ disclaimers : swearing

✧ author’s note — months in the making and it's finally here. please make yourself a cup of tea and get toasty in the sheets because this bitch is huge.

it was a valentine's dance, a stupid valentine's day dance, where lovers would go if they truly had nothing else to do. it was where elderly couples would boast of how long they'd been together, clichéd stories and all. you'd only gone because your best friend, jeno, had been in charge of the whole event to begin with. it made no sense to you, jeno was always a sucker for parties but not the sappy, cookies and streamers, no-alcoholic-beverages ones. he had said it was because he needed community service hours, something about how it would look like he genuinely cared for the community on paper, but sometime during the night while watching him excitedly put up the red and pink balloons, you realized that he actually enjoyed this. he enjoyed watching over the dance once it was in full swing and you saw how he'd let the smallest of smiles adorn his face as he refilled an empty pitcher of fruit punch.

but you knew the exact reason he held the dance in such high regards when he slipped from your presence as some slow song started to hum from the speakers and the fluorescent pink lights dimmed. you’ve been friends with jeno’s girlfriend for long enough to know that she was such a sweetheart. jaein was the type of girl that sent her grade reports back home to her parents and always had her location on. she was the type of girl that slept at eleven and declined frat party invites. she was just the girl that'd come to these types of parties and just the girl jeno deserved and loved. to nobody’s shock including your own, the two had started dating a few months back after being so obviously head over heels in love with each other for years.

while jeno had spent most of his time with you, he now spent an equal half with jaein and you weren’t all too sure what to do with the allotted free time. sure, busying yourself with studies was a good idea, not a very fun one though, so you resorted to attending the valentine’s dance jeno had set up, to support him as well as not to miss out on free food. jeno had tried, really, to get any one of his single (as in, ready to mingle) friends to come and try to woo you, but none had shown up, opting to go to more bustling parties than to babysit his lone best friend. none had shown up, except a specific brown-haired boy, with a shy smile and a lame excuse as to why he would choose to spend such a day here, of all places.

donghyuck. lee donghyuck. your polar opposite. to be fair though, you wouldn’t actually know all too well because you’d never particularly ventured to get to know him. every bit about him struck you as obnoxious and entirely unnecessary. he was this loud, boisterous enigma at your college, always sunshine and smiles and making people laugh at jokes that bordered between funny and offensive. you felt, no, you knew that he was no good. he was never committed in serious relationships, gaining labels such as being a ‘playboy,' and you doubted he ever had a serious conversation with anyone, much less himself. lee donghyuck was the moodmaker of your friend group and while that may rest peachy with others, you found it exhausting to have to always be in the mood to laugh at his jokes or else be deemed undeserving of his attention. truth be told, you thought he felt the exact same way towards you, seeing as how he never attempted to make conversation with you and how he simply acted like you didn't exist when in big groups. how wrong you were.

lee donghyuck was the last person on your mind when jeno had said to you absentmindedly that one of his friends could accompany you that night. jeno was clearly proud of this, with the knowledge of donghyuck's blatant crush on you, the matter being a secret to no one but yourself. donghyuck had really debated coming, not wanting to enforce one-on-one confrontations with you since he knew you disliked him a certain amount. but he also thought of all the things he could say to you, all the questions he'd been dying to ask since day one (all the questions that jeno hadn't begrudgingly answered already). for him, the whole day had been spent staring at jeno's simple text (hey, u should come keep y/n company at the dance) and tossing himself through his sheets, wondering if he should dare be bold and actually show up.

turns out, even after deciding to go, showing up had been an astonishing feat in itself for donghyuck, having spent the last hour and a half brushing and re-brushing his teeth, styling and restyling his hair, and choosing and rechoosing his outfit. he'd settled for simple black jeans, torn at the knees, a white tee topped with a black denim jacket and white sneakers, his hair split in the middle and almost stabbing at his eyes. he felt his heart speed up while reversing out of the driveway of his house, he felt his heart speed up as he thought of you while driving, and he felt his heart almost stop when he entered the venue, his eyes narrowing in on you and almost doubling over at how gorgeous you looked. leaning on the drinks table, you were donned in a simple satin blue slipdress with chunky sneakers to dress it down, one side of your hair was clipped back with some pearly accessories and your equally pearly bag sat atop the table behind you.

he took careful, calculated steps, stopping at the candy table to grab a lollipop, so as to seem like he wasn't beelining right towards you. stopping a few feet away from you and gaining your attention, he held out the heart-shaped lollipop, a shy "hi," slipping from his lips. you took the candy with a small thanks before fixating your gaze back on him and questioning his presence, "what brings you here?" though you knew the answer, you really doubted that jeno could convince donghyuck here without any willpower of his own. he bit down on his lower lip before giving out a shrug and untruthfully admitting that he, "had nothing else to do," and, "thought it would be a nice change, considering i really only attend frat parties."

taking the excuse as his word, you nodded slowly before telling him you didn't know if this was a good idea and that maybe you should just go because you didn't see much of a point in staying, completely missing the way his eyes rounded ever so slightly and how his lips twitched into a frown before he quickly fixed his expression. you were just about to turn away from him when his hands found themselves barely grazing your forearm, stopping you in your tracks so that he could voice out his inner worries, "i'm sorry if i'm making you uncomfortable but…i really would like to spend the night with you."

in his mind, he felt as if time slowed as he watched your hair rustle as you turned back around to face him, as your eyes flashed for a brief moment of consideration, and as you brought your hand up to his, effectively removing it from your arm before looking him straight in the eye to say, "okay."

donghyuck went through all the possible scenarios he'd thought up to come to a conclusion on what to say. he noted the way most people at the event were on the dance floor, slow dancing with a loved one, and thought it was a good place to start. meanwhile, you had traced his line of vision and interpreted his ideas, quickly saying, "no, we're not dancing," and effectively trashing his one and only plan rather abruptly. donghyuck's eyes nearly bulged out of his head and he made a mental note to not be so damn obvious in front of you. he took a quick glance at your lips and decisively tossed out the first thing that came to mind, "then, have you eaten yet?"

you shook your head lightly and he took from this to offer, "then how 'bout we go grab something to eat? my treat." you barely considered the situation upon hearing the last two syllables, replying with a "sounds good," quickly grabbing your bag. exiting the venue, you looked for jeno and saw that he was still busying around his girlfriend. you took it upon yourself to text him whilst on the way to dinner.

donghyuck felt light on his feet as he walked through the parking lot with you by his side. the cold air felt liberating on his skin but he noticed how you'd caged yourself within your arms, in attempts to ward off the wind. without thinking, he'd already shrugged off his jacket and propped it lightly over your shoulders. his confidence skyrocketed as you clutched the article of clothing tighter to your frame and muttered a small thanks. surprising even himself, he even replied with a, "no problem, you look good in it," his cheeks now flushing a bright red, the same color spreading to his ears.

not much else was said as he opened up the car door for you, gently pushing it shut after you were seated. you mentally cursed yourself for being so easily persuaded but moreover, the thoughts that filled your head were akin with 'since when was he such a gentleman?' and 'what's with him all of a sudden?' the air in the car smelled like fast food takeout and the cupholders held everything but a cup, miscellaneous items ranging from candy wrappers to spare change occupying the space instead. donghyuck entered beside you and noted your gazes, feeling slightly embarrassed. he put the car in reverse and placed an arm behind the head of your seat, his own head tilting as he backed out of the spot. without meaning to, you glanced over, only to be met with his side profile, jawline and all. it was no question that he was handsome, and though you never thought you would be actively thinking about it, you found yourself at the foot of his beauty, with many other girls by your side.

the whole ride there, you were texting jeno (even though he wasn’t texting back), making small jokes about how you've been kidnapped by the man he hired to accompany you and how he didn't even bother to tell you where the two of you were headed. it's odd because to this day, you still don't know what it was that compelled you to come along with him. perhaps it was really just the food, or maybe his sudden boyish charm, or mayhaps it was even the lollipop he held out to you, a shy smile lighting his face.

fifteen minutes later, the eerily quiet drive came to an end when he pulled into a spot on the side of an empty road, expertly parallel parking in the small space between two moderately sized trucks. before you could process his movements, his hand was on your arm again and he let out a small, "wait here," before he slid out the car and briskly walked to your side, opening up the door for you once again. stepping out, you took a look at the building before you that hosted a fancy restaurant, seemingly halfway empty. you found that odd, especially since it was valentine’s day, but you put into consideration that it was located on the side of town that no one really frequents.

“wow, when you said we were going to grab something to eat, i didn’t think it’d be fancy.” donghyuck felt a sense of pride in his chest as he opened yet another set of doors for you, replying back with sincerity. “i didn’t want to half-ass this… sorta date.” it felt weird coming out of his mouth, the word ‘date,’ even more so that the date was with you, but he caught the little quirk of your lips and he wondered if he really had to joke around all that much to get you to smile. on any other day where you’d hang out with the rest of the group, he’d never been able to get your still face to lift, no matter how many idiotic jokes he had to crack.

meandering in, the waiter sat the two of you at the table against the front window and you felt subconscious of the people walking by, peering in at the pair of you like they were window shopping. donghyuck saw the way you shifted, eyes glancing out the window every few seconds and he raised his hand to catch the waiter’s attention. “can we get another table, please?” after moving to a more secluded spot, you eyed donghyuck suspiciously before he bluntly said, “what? i didn’t wanna sit by the window.” the lie slipped easily past his lips and the almost overt hope that lined your irises diminished to a pointed look and eye roll.

the restaurant was dimly lit, with the only source of light being the candles lining the wall and atop each table, accompanied by a small rose in a clear vase. you’ve never been on a date somewhere this fancy, the boys you’ve dated in the past being utterly incompetent, for lack of a better word. and it’s not like a fancy dinner was what you’d epitomize as a ‘good’ date, you’ve just never been pampered in a way that made it seem like you were of importance. somehow though, the way donghyuck laid his eyes on you, with care and genuine curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel… important to him, for whatever reason he hadn’t graced you with yet.

you didn’t question him as he ordered a pasta and a steak, getting the feeling that this wasn’t the first time he’s been here. “so this is where you take all the girls, i’m assuming?” donghyuck’s eyebrows shot into this hairline, clearly not expecting such a question from you. he cleared his throat before voicing, “only the ones i like a lil' more.” you scrunched your nose in distaste at his dating habits but you didn’t say anything else. he seemed to catch up on this as he fervently picked up the exchange once again, “not that you’re one of them.” this caught you off guard, pursing your lips slightly before disregarding the thought from your mind. donghyuck thought he’d said too much but it looked as if you were already past the topic, moving your hands to unfurl the provided cloth and laying it upon your lap. he did the same as he searched your expression in attempts to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable within his presence.

donghyuck didn’t think much of the girls he dated. they were fleeting, he knew that much. and he also knew that they simply paled in comparison to you, mere pastimes while he waited out for his chance with his actual love interest. he’d never thought that you’d express dislike towards the way he chose to date around instead of committing but now that his mind was on the matter, he felt ashamed that he didn’t even seem remotely your type. donghyuck saw this in the way you always stuck to jeno, even in a platonic sense, and how your eyes always seemed to gravitate to guys that were more or less just…better than him. he knew relatively little about your love life, though he knew for a fact that you were currently single, and (from jeno) that you had dumped all the guys you’d dated before. even just liking you, he felt immense pressure and the impotent need to impress you whenever and wherever. with that in mind, he took a second to breathe before trying, at the very least, to show you his potential.

donghyuck initiated casual conversation while the two of you waited on the food to arrive, doing his best not to seem overly enthusiastic or like he was trying to make you laugh. he kept the usual over-the-top jokes out of the air and focused solely on getting closer to you, asking questions like, “how are your classes?” or “when’s your birthday?” and giving minimum effort to reply when you’d ask the same question back. he spent most of his brain power memorizing your answers, subconsciously scheming when he could put the information to use, before popping the question he’d been wanting to ask all night, “then, what’s your type?”

“mm, like looks-wise or personality-wise?��

“hmm, how ‘bout...both?”

“then, looks-wise, well first off someone that dresses well. i think things like facial features and body build don’t matter all that much but the way someone dresses or like, presents themselves, shows a lot about them.”

“so like, any particular style?”

“nothing particular, but nothing over the top. i think they just have to look put together and just…feel confident in what they wear. if that makes sense.”

donghyuck’s pleased with your answer, and by the way he was nodding at you, you continued your thoughts.

“personality-wise, just someone who knows what they want and someone that’s willing to put in effort to get what they want, i think that’s important.”

his eyes were just about sparkling when you finished and you wanted to ask him if he felt okay but instead shot back the same question he had asked you, not wanting to come off as fussy. “what about you? what’s your type?”

donghyuck didn’t miss a beat when he blurted out, “you.”

the waiter interrupted the moment by placing two plates (or rather platters) of food onto the table, but donghyuck could see, between the waiter’s arms, the way you bit back a smile. you snuck a glance at him, unsure of how to feel at this revelation. his eyes were unwavering on yours and you’d never felt more enticed by just the way someone was looking at you. oh, how confused you had become in such a short period of time. the boy in front of you was your type, a shy but self-assured boy that was smooth, no doubt, but more importantly he made you feel something.

dinner went as fast as it came and donghyuck paid, true to his word, leading you out the restaurant and back to his car. once in, he didn’t take off immediately. sitting in silence, the two of you exchanged a couple of looks before he said with a smirk, “let’s date.”

you were barely caught off guard, nodding minutely, and looking him in the eye. “yeah, let’s date." it was a blessed day for donghyuck, one that would always replay in his mind from that day onward. he thanked whatever higher entity graced him with just the perfect words, just the perfect actions, and just the perfect scenarios to get you from hating him to looking at him with such adoration in your eyes. all in one night.

it was a miracle day, a shared thought by the two of you.

it had been a wild forty-six hours since donghyuck had dropped you off at your apartment. the sunlit sky was just about to tip into the depths of night and donghyuck had come to pick you up to hang out with the rest of your friends. the only one of the boys who knew of the progression with donghyuck at the moment was jeno, the one boy you could never keep anything from, and he still thought that you were simply playing out a giant prank on him. you felt giddy, with the rush of newfound feelings for a handsome boy you could call your own.

approaching his and his friend’s house, an unsettling feeling began to gather in the pit of donghyuck’s stomach. around you, he found it rather comfortable to just lay back and speak his thoughts. the last couple days spent with you had shown him that you liked donghyuck the way he was, and even though his fun side was appreciated, it wasn’t needed. but coming up to the front door and bringing out his keys, he thought of how he would act with the boys and you in the same room.

“wow, who would’ve thought these two would come together?” it was jaemin that spoke, his eyes narrowing at you, coming in tow behind donghyuck. “imagine how awkward the drive must’ve been. y/n hates his guts.” this time, it was renjun that spoke, his lips curling into a smile as he conjured the thought of a silent, glare-filled drive. “actually,” donghyuck began countering, “we’re dating now.”

the room fell silent as they watched donghyuck wrap his arm around your waist, your head finding a place on his shoulder. suddenly, after seven whole seconds, the room burst into a cacophony of commotion, jeno dragging you to the side to question if you were sane, jaemin and renjun laughing at the absurdity but taking time to spout a few incoherent sentences, and jisung and chenle openly gawking at the unfolding situation.

it was a whole twenty minutes before everyone started to notice how quiet donghyuck was, only talking when he was talked to and even then, replying with straight and not sarcastic answers. all the boys seemed to find it strange and renjun finally voiced, “the hell happened to you, did y/n threaten you or something?”

the world seemed to shrink around him as donghyuck felt his throat constrict, looking between you and the boys as if any of you could give him a clue as to what to say. your eyes were just as curious as the rest but he knew they held some sort of expectation. you’d grown to like the real donghyuck, not the funny, boisterous one. but the boys were all expecting him to burst into giggles and crack jokes like they were all he was made of. his head whirled, not wanting to choose between you or his friends and feeling like the entire situation was unfair. it was unfair that he couldn't rest easy just being himself. that he had to be a certain someone in front of his friends so that he could feel like a friend. but despite the inner rumbling of thoughts, he ended up plastering a wide grin onto his face, quipping back at renjun with a, “‘course she did, she hates my guts.”

the boys all glanced at you expectedly, seeing if you would laugh at what your boyfriend had said. now it was you that felt uncomfortable. squirming under all the stares of your friends, you could only give a small smile, feigning a chuckle, before the boys deemed that enough to move on. it's right then and there that you realized exactly what the fuck you'd gotten yourself into. you felt the teeniest bit disappointed, in him and in yourself. him for having all that damned pride and you, for forgetting that he had all that damned pride.

it was at the forty-eighth hour of your relationship when you finally had the chance to drag the boy into the silent laundry room off the hall and confront him, dumping him for the first time because what the hell were you thinking? the usual, careful (not carefree) y/n that you'd known all your life had been replaced with this foreign and terribly impulsive persona in the face of a pretty boy. somehow, you’d let feeling of infatuation and desire revert all your cumulative dating experience and deem your rationality useless. all for a boy. a boy who could go on for days about how you weren’t ‘one of them’ when he really meant that he just thought you were prettier than the others. you felt like you were really just another one of his date-and-ditch girls. like he was slapping his dick in your face, and not even in a sexual way.

the last day of your weekend elapsed quickly and you had already found yourself cornered by donghyuck before your first class. you would have blatantly ignored him, had he not been screaming your name at the top of his lungs, alerting everyone within a mile radius. his face was drawn into a playful grin and you felt yourself cringe internally because you couldn’t piece together how you could’ve possibly dated a boy that would yell at you to get your attention with a goddamned smirk on his face the day after you had dumped him.

dragging him by the elbow to the nearest bench, you forcibly sat him in the seat, looking down at him like a mother giving her child a scalding glare for misbehaving. his face now donned something you hoped was guilt but edged the line of being shameful. “why are you embarrassing me? it’s nine in the morning.”

indeed, his voice was small and he seemed upset that you used such a reprimanding tone on him. “sorry, i just wanted to get your attention.”

“and now you have it,” you huffed, “what do you want?”

once again, without missing a beat, he blurted out, “to get back together.”

your mind longed to reminisce the feeling of his eyes, sincere, on yours but even then, you felt like a joke to him. “no.”

“but y/n-“

“no, hyuck. i don’t want to be another one of your girls that you think are 'pretty enough' to take to that fancy little restaurant you frequent.”

“you’re not.”

“oh, so all of a sudden i mean so much to you.”

“not all of a sudden, i- i’ve-“

donghyuck’s throat closed up before he could let you divulge in his little secret. he knew he would’ve probably been better off telling you the truth, as embarrassing as it would be for him, but it was too early, he told himself. he wanted to be sure about your feelings for him. he wanted to build a relationship with you, not pressure you with words he knew you weren’t ready for.

“you’ve what? lost your ability to speak?”

oh, how he would’ve loved that snappy attitude of yours had it not been directed at his poor self. he gulped visibly before settling for a half truth that wouldn’t make you freak out and avoid him like the plague, “i’ve started to like you, y/n. and not the way i like the others. you’re different, i swear.”

you bit down harshly at your lip, wondering if you were destined a shitty love with a disloyal boy. shaking your head, you pulled your phone from your tote, more than ever wanting class to start as soon as possible. to donghyuck’s dismay, it was. slipping your phone back, you raised your head to be met with wide eyes and you cursed yourself for almost wanting to ruffle his hair or tug at his cheeks or pull him into a hug… anything to get that little pout off his face. but you digressed, giving him a placid smile and a, “i have class, see you later,” before turning on your heel, thankful that you hadn’t succumbed to such silly urges.

class had been uneventful, a flurry of taking notes that you would later go back to and realize didn’t even make sense. your friend and usual seat partner, dayoung, had decided that today was the day to ditch. you supposed she’d either blacked out from drinking or had an incurable hangover, the cost of her monstrous drinking habits. it was a shame, you thought while packing up, that you would have to go to the cafeteria alone and eat alone.

exiting the lecture hall, you’re met with donghyuck once again, eyes burrowed into his phone. his brows are drawn together in concentration before he hears the shuffling of feet, courtesy of your fellow classmates, and you saw how he immediately searched the crowd for you, or you're assuming. you wanted to screech at him, what in the name of god was he thinking? picking you up after class? but you turned on your heel, almost getting ready to sprint to the back door of the building. before you could even get two steps in, donghyuck’s fingers were gently tugging at your elbow, forcing you into a spin to face the culprit of your classroom daydreams. his grip tightened as if afraid you’ll shrug him off and you saw the way he nervously shoved his phone into his back jean pocket, fumbling around for a bit until it finally slotted in. he let go of you rather abruptly, seemingly suddenly aware that his hand was there in the first place, and cleared his throat a little louder than he had aimed to.

“do you want to go get lunch with me?” his voice was shy, and it caught you off guard in the slightest because of how collected he seemed. nevertheless, you’re persistent if nothing.

“no, i’m eating with dayoung.” the lie fell past your lips like honey and you’re about to give yourself a mental pat on the back when a small, knowing smile eased onto the boy's face.

“dayoung’s at jaemin’s. she’s got a bad hangover from yesterday’s party.” damn, you would’ve been celebrating two victories, one for successfully lying and another for being right about dayoung’s tendencies, if you hadn’t forgotten that the girl was jaemin’s girlfriend and that jaemin was one of donghyuck's best friends. your lips flattened into a thin line as you grasped at nonexistent excuses to toss at him. his smile had widened, the light in his eyes shining, before he, again, took you by the elbow and led you to his car, admittedly not giving a fuck as to whether you were okay with it or not.

“come on, i didn’t wait a whole hour and a half outside to just let you go off on your own.” his little comment had you stopping in your tracks. he looked back at you, confused, the little frown on your face igniting unease in his mind. “you waited?”

“of course i did, baby.”

“don’t call me that.”

“okay fine, y/n.”

“why would you wait?”

“because i like you,” another smirk, “i said what i said and i meant what i said.”

(it’s not everyday that flustered!y/n enters the chat but when she does, god, hyuck swears he’s never been more in love with just the way someone blushes. he loves it, he lives for it.)

you escaped the gaze of his star struck eyes by stalking to the passenger side of the car, standing by the door and waiting for him to unlock the vehicle. willing himself out of his fanboy trance, he thumbs the key in a hurry and gets into the drivers’ seat with even more enthusiasm. with each progressing second he spends with you, he can't help but want more and more to get to know you. his actions were eager, putting the car in reverse, easing out of the parking spot, fingers nimble on the gear stick. as usual, the drive was dead silent off to a place that donghyuck didn’t bother to mention. you figured out soon enough though, as he parked the car in front of a local thai restaurant. as you gathered your belongings, he took the opportunity to quicken his exit to open the door for yours. “you don’t have to do that, you know. i’m perfectly capable.”

donghyuck didn’t let your statements derail him as he also opened the door to the restaurant for you. you gave him a disapproving frown, even considering to just not go in, before begrudgingly entering. the place had a cozy feel to it, somewhat akin to a rainforest cafe except without the fake exotic animals and random trees. donghyuck rushed, as if it were his life’s duty, to pull out a seat for you, and you willingly let him see your eye roll. “i know you’re capable, y/n, i just want to do it for you, really.”

you scrunched your nose in distaste and ignored his late reply, opting to skim through the thickly binded menus the waitress had set upon the table. you take it upon yourself to order this time, despite having never been to the place, but you figured a pad thai and khao pad were the way to go. his eyes were on you the whole time, watching the way you articulated yourself to the waitress. you knew this but pretended, for the sake of your heart, to be oblivious to his antics.

unsurprisingly, donghyuck slipped back into his usual persona that he seemed to portray whenever he was around you. being in his immediate presence seemed to make your heart quake these days, reminding you of his charming smiles and smooth lines. maybe it was because of this that made you think it was a bit too selfish to assume that dating him would mean that he would willingly change his entire reputation, you doubted he liked you that much.

by the end of the meal the two of you were sporting matching shy smiles, feet fiddling with each other under the table and silent snickers with flirty cocked eyebrows. the air felt different when you were around him, the him that you adored. he made the worries on your shoulders lift and lightened the tight hold that life had on your heart. donghyuck was good to you, in all the ways that mattered and in all the ways that did not. it was a shame that you didn't let yourself fall for him sooner.

he took the initiative to end the mini date there, briefly informing you that he would be dropping you off at your apartment before the car ride blanched out into an airy silence. it would have been outright ignorant for you to dismiss the way your heart pressed against your chest and how it beat quicker than whatever pop song that was tuning in the background of your worries. thinking, you felt it was something that you should take upon yourself to right the situation. whatever you were feeling, whatever he had told you about how he was feeling, was something you just couldn't ignore. staring listlessly into the abyss of the creamy satin that laid against your lap, you took deep breaths that shuddered the nerves on your spine. donghyuck was an ex, but you also dated and broke up with him in such a flurry of emotions that there was no way to tell if it was justified or not.

pulling into a spot outside your building you rushed your mind to do anything, say anything. "hyuck," you began, not even in full comprehension of what you were about to say. his ears perked and his heart lurched at your usage of his nickname, the feeling of closeness boosting his confidence and affection for you. "yes?"

"what if we- no, i-," grappling at your hair you felt the words come short as they neared being voiced aloud. donghyuck could sense the tension that you incited with your stuttering but he felt drawn to the way your eyes flitted to everything except his own. he wanted them on his own. letting his weight shift onto the middle console of the front seat, you allowed his careful fingers to caress your chin and lift your sights to him. donghyuck's eyes were warm and inviting and instead of feeling a chorus of nerves, your voice found strength in the expression that graced his features.

"yesterday... i think i made a mistake," his eyes narrowed and his fingers moved to cup your cheeks in his hand. "what do you mean by that?"

"i mean, i want to get back together. i'm sorry if it seemed like i was expecting something from you."

donghyuck openly stared at you, wanting to memorize the way your face fell shy and conserved. he wanted to be the one to open up your heart and to be the one to treasure it. he wanted it all. so while you busied yourself with rapid blinking, your mouth opening and closing in attempts to cover up what you thought might have been yet another mistake on your part, he closed the distance between your lips and his, in a fateful crash. there was a certain passion with which he kissed you with that told a tale of longing and thoughtfulness. he was as warm as he looked, his lips showing you more than he had said in words. from a small but heartfelt kiss, you saw him in so many ways you hadn't before. his sincerity leaked through the simple but profound way he subtly sucked on your bottom lip and in your state of realization, you tried your best to form words from the emotions that had dawned upon you. with a hand on his neck, light but rubbing deep circles you leaned back into his space so that your breath would tickle with his, "i don't know how much i like you, hyuck. i can't even give you an estimate but i know that i like you. that, i know for sure."

"and that's all i need to know, baby." donghyuck slid the hand on your cheek to take purchase of the crown of your head and brought your figure into his. your arms fell down to his back, encasing him, as your temple hit the skin above his collarbones. he felt like home more than anything else. years of knowing of him and only days of actually getting to know him were all you needed for your heart to calm with his gaze, goosebumps to smooth over with his touch. donghyuck, you believed, was a good man, a beautiful, sunkissed man with a hearty laugh that would ring in your ears even in the moments after.

hyuck's presence, in so many ways, was already mounting to more than you thought it ever would and it was something that nagged in the back of your mind, ever so slightly, between the waves of adoration that swept through you with every interaction you held with him. it was dangerous territory, you thought, to be left alone without his persona by your side because then you would be utterly alone. alone to all your thoughts that kept you up at night because rationally, none of this made sense. rationally, he should not have been able to penetrate through your defenses, to break down your façade, to see the real you. it was a matter of days, not weeks, not even months, much less years. rationally, liking him was a no go. and being with him in any serious context was out of the question.

"woah. dragging me into the laundry room. well that can only mean two things, honeybee." his little remark would normally incite a small eye roll but you're too far in your head to really process the lightness of his joke, the lightness of his tone. two deep breaths, keep your hands away from him.

"hyuck, let's call this off." a serious tone.

"wait what?" it's been like barely a day." his gleaming eyes seemed to take it in anything but seriousness.

"i don't think i really thought this through. i just- it's all a little quick don't you think?."

"but babe look-"

"i'm sorry, again, but i really am not looking for something serious with you. that's what you want and i don't want to be the one who drags this on and makes it harder for me and you. whatever this was. let's just preten-"

"y/n, i'm not going to pretend this never happened, okay?" a pause, "because i know something happened. maybe you can't get serious with me but i know, for a fact, that you felt something at one point or another in this… this relationship." donghyuck's eyes are glossed over now with fresh tears. the very eyes that were filled with glee not two minutes ago. despite how wretched he looks, he continues without a hitch.

"you wanna break up? fine. i respect that but don't fucking say that this never happened. don't deny that what you felt, what i saw, never happened. it happened, baby. we happened."

taken aback in humiliation, you blinked back the oncoming wave of tears that were threatening to fall. he was right, you were impulsive, and indecisive, and though it was nowhere in your intentions to be selfish, that's what you were. two times now, that you've fucked yourself over.

and with your leave, donghyuck found himself at square one. or even negative one. he dated you, he dated you and he still found a way to ward you off, again. not even four days in total had he dated you and he felt the knots in his stomach tighten and curl up against his internal organs. he fucked it up, no matter if it was you that broke it off. he couldn't help but think that he was the one that scared you away. that he was the one that pushed you to fall for him so quickly and carelessly with flirty smiles and stupid chivalrous actions. donghyuck felt the tension build in his insides because he was so enamoured with being yours, for catching your eye, you heart, that he forgot to build a relationship with you, to build trust and reliability with you.

now, if you were to even look back on your relationship with him, or to even look at him in any sort of romantic way, you would only see the boy who could win smiles and little flutters of hearts but never any more than that. he found himself in the pits of regret and utter annoyance at his past self because he couldn't take a step back, for even one second, and show you more of how much of a partner he could be. he drowned in the possibility that he would only ever mark as pretty sex appeal and quick playboy fling in your charts. peak devastation.

but you, you will never admit the twist in your heart as you slipped out of the laundry room that day. not to hyuck, not to jeno, not to yourself. whatever games you believed hyuck to be playing on you, whatever games your own mind was playing on yourself, you were through with it. there was no way around that.

a headache, in bed. maybe a bedache. uncomfortable no matter how you positioned yourself. the sheets were crisp but cold to the touch and you found yourself drawing your limbs nearer to your torso, your arms encircling them to ensure a warmth. perhaps this bedache had been brought on by how you hadn't left the bed since early last night, how the sun had been up for awhile now, or even by the phone pressed between your left ear and those crisp sheets. radioactive stuff, you figured. jeno was drawling on and on, about what you couldn't put a finger on. if your best friend was any one thing in the world, he was a rambler. never knew when to stop and could never comprehend the general mood of the room. especially when it was just the two of you, you couldn't help but have your mind wander off onto other topics because frankly, you weren't sure if he himself knew what he was saying at this point. maybe if he could pick up on the fact that you were tired, or so so out of it then he would stop. maybe if he was a little more adept in noticing things about you, maybe if he was a little more like… like hyuck.

hell, you would've totally crushed on jeno if he had just a bit more common sense in social interactions (it's a total wonder how he has such an attentive girlfriend). but no, if anything hyuck was more your type than any of the guys in the group. huh, hyuck. how did he even end up in your train of thought?

sprawling your back flat upon the mattress, the cold curling up your tendons and rippling a small shiver down your spine, you thought about the events of yesterday morning. breaking up with hyuck--a good choice decidedly--suddenly seemed like a dick move on your part. surely you could've just worked through it right? you liked him, undoubtedly, why was it so hard to stay with him? the possibility of being hurt was relatively low, despite who he was, you figured because of how he acted around you, gentlemanly. the possibility of it ending up more than just a frenzied fling was also very high, with how much you had liked him in consideration. your mind was going on, still to this moment, about how quick it had been, about your secret fears of it being no more than a joke, about how you had seriously fallen for such a joking person. but then again, you couldn't just call him up and tell him, "hi, it's y/n. let's date. again. because i suddenly feel okay with it. again." (though in all honesty, donghyuck would still say yes).

the best course of action, you decided, was to wait it out. maybe school could keep your mind off of him and before you know it, the sight of him wouldn't make you suddenly self-conscious. and the sound of his voice wouldn't make the hairs stand straight at the nape of your neck. the aftereffects of his boisterous smile would stop, for once, from making your heart disentangle itself from the hold of your ribcage and the butterflies would stop flying all together. to your dismay, monday morning was comparably awful, just godawful.

your eyes are still wide and you're only slightly panicking when you say with a flat voice, “repeat.” donghyuck heaves another exasperated sigh. “i said,” he gives you a look that either means he thinks you’re annoying or he thinks you’re stupid (or both), “renjun thinks we’re still dating so he made a bet with me that if we stay together for a whole month, he owes me a hundred bucks.” his sneakers are tapping in such a rhythmic fashion that your eyes feel like they’ve been tranced but they’re pulled to his face when you finally process his words. “wha-“

you’re attempted response is cut short when he says, eyes rolling back, “i’ll split it if you fake it with me.” gosh, you wanted to smack him. you weren’t tight on money at the moment but an extra fifty dollars for a new dress, or the pair of heels you’ve been eyeing, or maybe even that one overpriced lipstick…your mouth seemed to work faster than your mind. “fine, a month,” his face lit up at your words, “but nothing extra, like no weird stuff when we’re alone.”

he nodded, a smirk slowly forming alongside his retort, “that is, if you can resist my pretty face.” it was your turn to roll your eyes and shove his frame farther away from yours as you were reminded of every reason you hated this kid. he was annoying, no way around that. you checked your phone and it lit up with a 9:57. you were going to be late for class.

you took brisk steps away from the boy towards your class across campus, not even bothering to bid him a farewell. "hey, wait up," he jogged to your left, trying to match your pace, "where you going? i thought we should drop by my place, renjun should be there with the rest of the boys." you quickened your steps, making sure that donghyuck couldn't distract you further before answering curtly, "i have class in like, less than three minutes." instead of backing off like he should've he only sidled up to you more saying, "oh okay, what class?" you huffed, clearly distressed that he couldn't take the hint and just go. "organic chem."

at that, his face seemed to grow even more excited, for god knows what reason, and he caught up with your fast-moving frame with a few skips, "at the kinley building? 'cause i could drive you." this time, you stopped in your tracks, weighing your options. if you declined and walked the whole way, there was the possibility you'd be late and donghyuck would probably tag along as well. if you went with him, there was no doubt you'd make it in time. you figured you would have to suffer being in his presence either way so might as well make it to class on time. "sure,” you muttered under your breath, upset that you had agreed to all his inquiries today.

his left hand clasped around your wrist, as if to lead you to his car, but you promptly unhooked it, not even chancing a glance at his face as you followed behind him. skinship had been prominent while you and him were dating, despite the time being short, and you didn't hate it but it freaked you out nonetheless how he could be so touchy without knowing you all that well.

approaching the parking lot, you could already spot his beat up 1998 honda civic, sporting the signature scratched navy blue paint. sliding into his car, you could recall the very first night he'd taken you to dinner. how his cheeks had been pink the entire drive there, anxious that you would notice the remnant smell of the fried chicken he had the night before. you could remember, with striking detail, how clouded your mind had been and how you'd let donghyuck's childish antics keep you from realizing what exactly you'd done.

shaking your head from the memories, you kept your gaze straight and mouth shut for the rest of the ride; donghyuck seemed to notice this and followed suit. you were struggling to think about anything except the boy next to you but you persisted to fight it because the complications were too much for you, donghyuck was too much for you.

class? uneventful. your mind? bustling. with what? donghyuck, donghyuck, donghyuck, and fucking donghyuck. the end of class signals an expectation you were pondering in class and upon exiting, you find it to be true. donghyuck is leaning up against the wall adjacent to the door to the lecture hall you were just in and he's already smiling at you, kind and sweet. the drive to the boys' house is strikingly quiet in the most uncomfortable way possible but it's immediately the least of your worries when you pull up upon the driveway of the cornflower blue painted house. donghyuck pulls the keys from the car and you don't allow him to open the door up for you, stepping out just as he reaches for the handle. his hand, hovering midair, swoops back to the curls at the foot of his neck, twirling them as if he was originally to make a dramatic gesture out of a simple act.

before donghyuck can turn the key into the keyhole, he sets an arm around your shoulders, without looking you in the eye and clears his throat. "we might wanna at least seem, you know…" his comment is received with your head on his shoulder, the same position the two of you were in while walking into this very house less than a week ago. he chances a glance down at you but regrets because his face is quite literally all up in your space. he can see the little ridges of your eyelids and the individual hairs of your eyebrows, all the miniscule details of the light makeup you adorned and the blush on your cheeks that's far too pink to be solely composed of any powder or swash. he briefly wonders if the causation is of his sudden proximity but is interrupted when the door in front of you splits open, the keys departing from donghyuck's clutches and jangling against the wood.

his face is still mere centimeters from yours and renjun is looking, delighted and sickened at the same time so you take the liberty to peck a quick kiss upon the bridge of donghyuck's nose before shooting a shy smile at renjun and brushing past him into the house, leading hyuck by the hand. the boy himself is halfway zoned out because of the fact that you had initiated pda first. snapping from his momentary daze, he feels a sudden courage surge through his chest, his flirty sweet attitude fully consuming the doubt and insecurities that were once peeking through his composure.

"so how you guys holding up this time around?" renjun questions as he perches himself at the edge of a one person couch, already occupied by jisung. the younger boy pushes him off playfully and is, in turn, shot a death glare and a muttered curse. jisung merely shrugs which makes the aforementioned boy even more riled up, the whole situation giving you and donghyuck a few moments to give each other looks confirming who's to be answering. his little nudge gets you spitting whatever tumbles out first.

"better than ever actually, we're kinda just ignoring the fact that that first breakup happened. you know, it was just a small fight." donghyuck's eyes nearly bulge out at your slip up but he's already wracking his brain for a backup reason in case renjun catches the mistake.

"first? what do you mean first?" you can already see the smirk growing on renjun's face, preparing for his hundred bucks. thankfully donghyuck, quick-witted as ever, is right on his tail, "yeah we got broke up a few hours after we got back together, a sick joke on y/n's part."

silently, praising hyuck for how skillfully he handled the near-debacle, you follow up with a realistic, "you thought it was funny too though, don't act like you didn't enjoy my acting!" at this, renjun's quirked eyebrow returns to its rightful place and he retrieves his phone from his jacket pocket to get everyone's pizza preferences for delivery. jaemin enters at this moment. his eyes are sparkling with mirth and he's walking backwards, both hands interlaced with a noticeably tipsy dayoung.

"shit, dayoung. already? it's three in the afternoon," you voice while ambling in her direction. you see the way she barely acknowledges you while burying her face into jaemin's chest, mumbling incoherent sentences but jaemin supplies your question by telling you that, "she had a shit day, forgot to write a whole essay and a half." blinking in somewhat understanding, you then cross the room to where donghyuck is now sitting on the couch and while he pats his lap, you take the spot on the floor in front of him so that his knees peer at the sides of your head. immediately, you feel him sit up to accomodate you by softly raking his fingers through your hair.

dayoung, currently sitting smack in front of the tv and successfully obstructing everyone's viewing experience, now speaks with a slightly more sober tone, "ya, y/n, i can't believe you didn't tell me that you and donghyuck are dating. i had to figure out through jaemin. imagine how shocked i was to hear that! i thought you absolutely despised him…" the room is awfully silent and you hear the beginnings of words come from donghyuck behind you when dayoung finishes up her little spiel, "... i always thought you liked him though, or at least thought you two looked good together."

the rest of the boys beside donghyuck are absolutely loosing their shit because y/n liked hyuck for how long?! donghyuck is equally loosing his shit though he tries his best to suppress the blush that's sure to be washing over his features. his heart is pumping at a haphazard pace and his fingers have slid down from your hair to your neck, then shoulders. he hopes you can't feel the shakiness and lack of confidence that seeps through his demeanor, making his pupils shake and ever so conscious of how you are stilled in this moment. donghyuck wants to see the look on your face.

your face, unbeknownst to the boy behind you, holds no surprise. dayoung had said that same line to you over and over again, claiming that your dislike towards the boy was all part of a covert operation to mask your true feelings for him. in all honesty, the topic of this had replayed in your head for quite some time as well because although in the forefront of your mind you knew that you genuinely did not like donghyuck's character, you couldn't help but ponder the specifics of why exactly you always sought to be upset with him when really you could have minded your own business. and with that thought, you seldom admitted to yourself that donghyuck did draw some sort of your attention to him, attraction or just wonder in general.

you almost want to rush and clap a hand over her mouth as another of her drunken speeches comes into play but she beats you to the chase. "let's go on a double date! or triple, yes, triple! i wanna see this 'relationship' up close, y'all are suspiciously cute."

donghyuck's heart speeds and yours drops.

turns out, drunk dayoung and sober dayoung are pretty alike when thinking, proven by how sober dayoung had no recollection of her drunken triple date proposal but had also suggested the same exact thing in a sober state. the mirrored version of you that you are so carefully inspecting at the moment looks slightly fucked up, you think. sure, your outfit and makeup are on point as usual but it's the way your stomach churns and eyes shift uneasily that give way to how you're really feeling. nervous.

walking over to where your small array of handbags are perched upon the windowsill above your fair selection of shoes, you slip on a simple pair of square-toed picnic heels to go with your blue and white 'modern-day belle from beauty in the beast' look. your doorbell sounds throughout the apartment just as you're about to pick out a bag and you scuffle over, still trying to get your toes lined up, to the front door so as to not keep donghyuck waiting. upon opening, you give the boy a quick once-over before deciding that his simple outfit of washed blue loose fit jeans and a semi-fitting white shirt matched perfectly to your own.

"am i approved?"

a small smile graces your features before you nod lightly, turning your back to him but leaving the door open at his leisure. "you most certainly are." stepping within the confines of your space, donghyuck's face breaks into a childlike grin when he notes, "look at us, we're even matching."

you give him an absentminded chuckle in agreement, much too focused on whether a wickered crossbody or the pearled mini tote would do your coordination justice. shaking your head in a frenzy you snatch up the pearled item, astounded that you even thought of introducing a whole new color and texture into an already perfect ensemble. donghyuck watches with an amused grin but paid more attention to your actual apartment than the girl that lived in it. suddenly, you're aware that this is his first time being allowed up into the premises and how awkward this would play out in your mind now that you're aware but you do your best to shake the thought and return to loading your bag with your assigned lipstick, keys, and phone before ushering the boy out altogether.

the two of you are the last to arrive of the three couples, unsurprising to him only. donghyuck will never leave this out for discussion but he purposely drives slowly, so as to give himself as much time with you as possible, even if you end up hissing scornfully at his delayed turn and the way the space between the car you're in and the car in front always seems to increase.

with the drive in consideration, you are slightly annoyed as you exit the car without the assistance of donghyuck and is slightly relieved to see jeno and jaein walking from the parking lot as well. catching up to them, again without donghyuck, you make small talk with jaein while jeno eyes you will curiosity. before you can jump head first into a heated debate about your shared nutrition professor with jaein, donghyuck's arms slots behind your back and you're startled for a split second. noticing the glare you give hyuck, jeno asks good-naturedly, "something happen on the drive here?"

huffing exasperatedly but relieved you get the opportunity to complain, you reply in the most sincere manner given the topic of discussion. "hyuck here, drives so unbelievably slow, i don't know how we got here even remotely on time." said boy is chuckling with an amused face but removes his arm from the small of your back and instead intertwines your fingers. he adores it when you get riled up with insignificant actions. shaking your head, you let donghyuck lead you to the end of the clearing where jaemin and dayoung are at looking across the landscape.

it certainly is the most picturesque spot for a date, the lavender fields sprawling lazily between the two hills. along the view there are several, maybe five or six, couples that seem to have gotten the same idea in coming here but you're pleased that today would be a fairly undisturbed date. your group of six quickens the pace along the trodden dirt path and you're all too aware that wearing heels, albeit low, with a stick heel was a nightmare on soft terrain. you found yourself sinking into the ground with each step of the way and it's only natural that hyuck picks up on this, being only steps behind you, hands still interlocked and now sweaty.

he switches the hand in which he holds yours and connects his other with your adjacent. taking a large step, you feel his front press against your back as his voice pulses softly into your ears, "want me to carry you, babe?" a chortle crossed with a scoff passes your lips but before you could quip back a line on just how capable you were, the heel of your left shoe caught particularly deep in the soil and upon trying to retrieve it, your balance was replaced with incoordination. hyuck steadies you by moving his left hand around your waist and rights your stance but then slides his other arm beneath the alcove of your inner knees and swiftly removes your weight off the floor. you're not left breathless or starstruck by his smooth actions but his eyes, now matching your gaze, are enough to stop you from retorting to his kind gestures. surely, he meant nothing more of it than a simple solution to a friend's problem and a token of performative pda.

arriving at a particular grassy clearing about half a quarter mile into the field, you see that jaemin and dayoung who were at the head of the group had already spread wide the picnic blanket they had brought, the large wicker basket that jaemin had looped around his arm on the way here was seated atop. donghyuck only lets you down only when he's right at the foot of the blanket and dayoung gives you a playful grin, which you return with a shit-eating one of your own, followed by a giggle that erupts from jaein as a spectator of the scene. the weather is warm but not hot, the rays of the sun light on the skin and far from blinding, and the grass is dewy but dry enough for it to stop from clamping through the thin fabric of the pink blanket. sure, you admit, a triple date on a day like this, with a view like this, was definitely a good idea.

hyuck makes sure to grab a few napkins as soon as the basket is opened and he trods back over to where he had set you down, crouching and lifting your left shoe off your foot so he could clean the soiled heel. he does the same for the other, all whilst you're looking up at him with such sincere and loving eyes. it is far from intentional but donghyuck knows that the easiest way to your heart is found in simple but profoundly touching actions.

an hour into the brunch, you seem to have grown accustomed to donghyuck feeding you food, refilling your drink, and just being the most attentive you have ever seen him be. you chalk it up to the fact that he's just closer to the platters of food set in the center of the blanket as well as the fact that he needs to make as much of a show as he can out of this. chatter is pleasant, the other two couples equally as enamoured with one another over the whole group in itself, giving perfect leeway for donghyuck to squeeze in some one-on-one time.

"y/n," his voice causes your head to snap in his direction, eyes wide. "what?"

hyuck licks his lips, eyes glancing down to your own before realizing that now was definitely not the time. you felt like you could see the gears turning in his head when he answered, "let's go take pictures." nodding, you let him help you up and lead you to the nearest path, his hand guiding you slowly so as to not cause another inbalance. the path he chose ended up circling down further into the valley and he walks you down until the terrain flattened and treads back up the slope to get a picture of the flowers fanning out around you on all sides. his breath catches, keeps catching, with each second he stands there, focusing more on the little you on the screen than the picture he was taking of you. a few shots later and jaemin and dayoung had rounded upon the spot as well, jaemin offering to take some photos of the two of you together.

a light smile forms on donghyuck's features as he nears you, eyes glistening at contact with yours. perhaps it’s the way love simply works but he swears that even mother nature kneels before you, outlining your skin with a glow that could only be achieved with true happiness, the rays of light reflecting in your eyes gleam like pools of honey, and the way the flowers fan around you that made your figure seem even more sublime. hyuck blinks his running thoughts away as he makes haste to set an arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him. he can quite literally feel your head turn to look at his side profile, your nose barely dusting the heights of his cheekbones. he sucks in a breath and turns face-to-face with you as well, momentarily slowing time and the whole 'posing for a picture' scheme escaping his mind.

"okay, i got it. you guys looks so good together, who knew!" jaemin squeals, effectively drawing your attention away from his stare. you pick up on the small, "i knew," that dayoung lets out in a distaste full tone and exchange a funny glance with her. bringing hyuck's arm from behind you and lacing fingers with him instead, you beam up at the other couple as you offered to take a few shots of them as well.

the six of you only spend an hour longer at that destination, being full-time college students didn't exactly allow full-fledged dates but with the time considered, you had fun. slipping back into the passenger seat of hyuck's car, with the boy closing the door shut behind you, you rummage through your handbag to find the packet of blotting paper you are sure you put in there. just as you see it, your eyes catch onto a bright red, packaged candy lodged in the far corner. donghyuck returns to his side of the car just as you withdraw the stick from the bag, eyes gleaming as you held it out for him to see.

"that's-"

"the lollipop you gave me, that day, at the valentine's dance." you give a small childlike chuckle before unwrapping the candy. he looks almost distressed, "and you're eating it now?"

"yeah, why the heck not."

"i mean, i thought that you'd save it for, you know, sentimental value." your eyebrows raise with his comment.

"huh, i never pegged you as one who cared about that kinda stuff."

"i- well, i guess there's never a better time to learn."donghyuck took a deep breath.

"how 'bout this then?" you position the lollipop up and slightly to the left of his face as your other hand busies around the bag for your phone. swiping to the camera, you take a few shots of donghyuck's confused, enlightened, and then smiling face before withdrawing, "how's that for sentimental value?"

his eyes are in full acknowledgement of your cheeky attitude but he's thrown off guard just a few seconds later when your phone is thrust in his face, your lockscreen the same picture you'd taken moments ago. "cute, right?"

donghyuck's hands are shaking as he reverses the car from the parked spot with feigned ease. "yeah, real cute," he mutters under his breath but just at the right pitch for you to hear. the small smile that graces your snickering expression just shoves it further into his face that any way he tries to rationally run from you, he'd end up right back in your presence, drawn to you in ways even he cannot yet comprehend. he knows that no matter if he tries to avoid the fact that every moment spent with you further solidifies his daydreams into reality or tries to delude himself into thinking that he's in this solely for the fifty bucks, either way, he's fucked.

donghyuck's beyond stressed and more than ever wishing that time could work in his favor for once and pick up pace past the worrisome week ahead. he has an inkling that the library is already packed to the brim but he's convinced that if he wishes hard enough for a spot, one will magically clear itself for his studies. with no time to waste, he power walks past the information desk, past several rows of rich literature, and into the open field of desks. his suspicions, as they turned out, were right. each and every seat was occupied by one of many equally stressed out college students, cramming for the first day of finals that marked just under eight hours from now. donghyuck takes a roundabout the whole floor, just to make sure that he wasn't missing out on one of the coveted cushioned seats by the walls if any happened to be free. he's about to exit the premises, regret lining his already deteriorating mindset at the thought of having to memorize two months of information with chenle's music blasting from above, all three of jeno's cats taking purchase of his lap, and jisung entering every four minutes for entertainment purposes.

he really is about to exit, that is, until he sees you at the far corner of the establishment, earbuds tucked in securely, a sprawl of two computers, a tablet, three open books, and a whole ass stationary store displayed in front of you. in between two tall shelves and peering through a few books, he knows that if anyone were to comb their eyes about the room, they'd think him to be stalking. weighing his options, he decides to let you study in peace, not wanting to interrupt whatever was going on in that organized mess of yours.

donghyuck contemplates though, with the consideration that you had to have been at the library for a fairly decent amount of time to have secured such a good spot. the second the idea is brought to mind, he rushes out the building, almost sprinting and earning a few dirty looks thrown in his direction.

he really wishes he had driven his car instead of biking here, something jeno had convinced him was a good idea, but he makes do with what he has and pedals furiously to the convenience store on campus, a good nine minutes away. there, he buys a few bottles of energy drinks, other extremely caffeinated stuff, candy bars, and decides after a good minute, that chips were not the way to go, the loud packaging would give away to the strict eating policies all too easily. a stupid bright smile is plastered across his face, even as he finds himself paying an extra dollar for a bag to hold all the items. again, pedaling back furiously, he manages to make it to the library in only eight minutes this time but it's for naught since he spends the next fifteen with one knee propped on the seat of the bike, using it as a makeshift table to write and rewrite a little note to accompany the goods.

stuffing the paper bag into his backpack and switching it so that it's strapped on his chest rather than his back, he hurries into the vicinity to find that you're still there. donghyuck waits. he picks up a book on graduate level psychology and attempts to read it with one eye on the text and the other on you, not that that's how it works, both his eyes are really on you. he does this for a total of forty minutes until you finally get up for the restroom and on cue, donghyuck makes sure to be discreet when sliding from between two bookshelves and placing the paper bag upon your seat. he leaves promptly.

donghyuck arrives home with his heart thumping loudly, reminiscent of the feeling after running a whole marathon. his phone dings and his first thought is of you. instead, it's a reminder: religious studies final, 8:00 AM. the time above it reads 1:09 A.M., so much for 'no time to waste,' he thinks.

you're relieved that your quick restroom break was quick enough that your stuff wasn't cleared out by the snappy librarian or any other crazed undergrad. but to your confusion, your spot has now been replaced with a brown paper bag, medium in size and clandestine in contents. with careful hands, you slit open the bag, keeping your distance in the unlikely case that it was a motion-activated bomb (a valid fear, may i add). surprise lights your face as you see a few of your favorite candies, as well as a bundle of energy drinks that you so desperately need. a post-it is tacked to one of them and you pluck it up with two fingers and bring it to sight. 'hope this helps, don't get in trouble for eating tho. -ldh.'

you pause, your breath halts. a small hand accompanies your gaping mouth that regresses into a soft smile. this boy, he was really something else. your dedicated studies continued, but were futile given the fact that all you could think about was lee donghyuck, a sweet, sweet boy who waited god knows how long for you to take a restroom break so he didn't interfere with your concentration. lee fucking donghyuck. dissolving your emotions so you could dutifully return to your misery, you let your shoulders sag, letting out a sigh, what a mess you were in.

with finals out of the way, you're now facing the second big event of the month. a heavily anticipated move. the apartment you're currently occupying is quaint, but small, cozy, but inconvenient. unfortunately, jeno had already headed back to his hometown, having one less class and therefore one less final than you. none of your other friends were equipped with the abilities to be hauling heavy furniture to and fro so you were left to either pay someone or find someone. much of your conscious had already decided who that someone would be but you lacked the courage to carry the proposition through.

you pondered the situation while driving to your new place that was closer to campus, larger in size, and with thicker walls so you wouldn't have to hear your neighbor pounding her boyfriend in 8D audio with only a cardboard wall to separate your eyes from the scene. pulling into a parking space you steeled your resolve and dialed the number.

he picked up in one and a half rings, "y/n? hey, what's up?" donghyuck's voice comes out raspy on your end.

"shoot did i wake you up?"

the boy clears his throat, lying he replies, "no i was just packing, do you need anything?"

"uhh, yeah. a favor. if you could, i just need someone to go to ikea with me to help carry furniture and stuff. and since jeno's out of town, i just thought i'd ask you."

"oh," he sits up straight in his bed, "yeah, yeah i can go with you. when?"

"maybe like...now? sorry, this is so last minute.”

donghyuck is already on the move, unearthing your favorite sweatshirt of his from his already packed suitcase, "no, not at all. i'm basically done here anyways."

"right, cool. i'll text you the address. when will you be here?"

"ten minutes," he blurts out, "i- is that good?"

"okay, see you." you hang up, heart hammering in your chest.

you wish the mirror in your new bathroom was full-length because you are currently stood atop the rim of the bathtub adjacent to it, the crown of your head unceremoniously shoved against the rail of the shower curtain, trying to get a good look at whether your ensemble is fit for the occasion. a baby blue mini crop top with a pair of loose sweats drapes your figure and you wonder if furniture shopping with the boy you like requires something a little more cohesive. sighing, you figure that all your worrying was in vain, since the moving van you ordered with all your packed up clothes in it isn’t scheduled to arrive until 6 in the evening.

just as you finish reapplying your gloss, the doorbell sounds, the unfamiliar ring causing you to yelp in surprise. you answer the door, donghyuck's face lit with humor, "i heard that." your cheeks flame a tad bit before you realize with a pout, "oh, guess the walls aren't as thick as i thought then." donghyuck smirks, an expression that you miss but you go on to list to him the things you were planning to buy that you didn't already have moved in yet. a couch, two lamps, a nightstand, and four very specific potted plants. he watches you with sparkles in his eyes, as if they were reflecting your own.

"right let's go, then," nodding, he snatches his keys.

"your car or mine?"

"mine, the trunk's bigger," he reasons and you nod.

minutes later, you stand dumbfounded as you stare at his 'bigger trunk.'

"so you're saying, that you're gonna shove a whole ass couch in here."

"that's right, sweetie." not even thinking to correct his term of endearment, you slam the trunk door shut, nearly decking him in the head. "if it doesn't fit, i'm having you ride the bus back with the couch."

"sure thing, babe." he answers nonchalantly, seeing as you haven't caught on.

"and alone too, i'm not bouta be seen in public with a man carrying a couch on a bus."

"got it, honey." he’s beginning to enjoy this.

"shit, maybe i'll even have you pay for it if that happens."

"fine by me, love." his smile is on the verge of splitting his ears.

shutting the car door of the passenger seat closed, "gosh, what if i just send you to get the stuff by yoursel- wait, what did you just say?"

donghyuck's face shines golden in the afternoon light, "nothing, dear."

"hyuck, you gotta be kidding me."

"kidding about what, babygirl?" he looks as if he is to burst of happiness.

"lee donghyuck, i'm being serious." but the little smile that edges on your face gives it all away so he goes on.

"as am i, lovebug."

shaking your head, you turn to look out the window in embarrassment as donghyuck pulls out of the parking spot with the stupidest grin on his face. it isn't until you guys are halfway there that he returns to a normal calm but fails to guard his mouth from saying anymore. "you good, sweetpea?"

"hyuck…"

"c'mon, say it back, princess, i know you want to." he gives a few quick glances in your direction, eyebrows jutting up playfully.

the smallest of smiles adorn your face as you let out a, "geez, baby," muttered under your breath. the same old stupid smile is back on his face now, his ears are perked, but you can tell he’s nowhere near satisfied yet.

"what'd you say? i couldn't quite hear you."

silence.

"y/n, c’mon, what'd you say?"

"... i said...geez, my lil’ bitch."

he breaks out into ripples of harmonious laughter that ring in your ears like the first few chords of your favorite song. you follow him, peals of laughter emitting at just the sight of his joyous face. this marks the first car ride you share with the boy that isn’t bathed in complete silence but instead, smiles and comfort and bouts of flirty tension hanging in the air despite no one spectating.

the trip to ikea is straightforward in its purpose, you point and donghyuck carries. he masks the fact that he really isn't the one for heavy lifting jobs pretty well by wiping the sweat off his forehead when you're not looking and taking gargantuous swigs of water when you're too busy measuring dimensions and surveying durability. he also makes sure he has a say in the pieces you decide on, wanting something for you to remember him by whenever you look at the extra flower print pillow cases he convinced you to buy. while you're paying at the checkout, he makes it his job to buy two vanilla ice cream cones for you to commemorate hard work. the smile and shy thank you that you give him makes him feel a good deal important.

donghyuck ends up exerting a lot more energy than he thought he would on this little venture, shoving the gigantic box of unassembled couch half into the trunk and half into the backseat, the rest of your purchases having little to no space to themselves. you notice his fatigued state and offer to drive home in his place. he's hesitant to agree but feels the weight of his arms and complies. as soon as the car doors are shut and the overhead light goes out, the two of you take a few minutes to collect yourselves.

"thanks for today, hyuck."

he closes his eyes, head leaning back on the headrest, "my pleasure, sweetheart." you start up the car.

halfway into the drive you notice that donghyuck has started to nod off. feeling a little more courageous at the thought of him being unaware, you slip a hand into his, one still securely on the wheel. you smile to yourself, nodding along to the upbeat song playing on the radio, the volume turned down to the lowest dial. you pride yourself for being able to get away with the action but you only think you do. donghyuck knows the feeling of your skin on his. he knows the unmistakable sparks that ignite in his little belly of butterflies, and even if he is half asleep, he feels you more than anything. he loves you more than anything.

you convince hyuck to take the guest bedroom for the night, laying newly washed sheets on the bed just seconds before he passes out on top of them. oddly though, you yourself are woken up the following day by a string of curse words that come from the living room. groggy and barely awake, you trudge into the open space to see donghyuck with an instruction manual inches away from his face, his eyebrows drawn in. parts of the couch are sprawled all around him and you wonder when and how he woke up in the first place.

"hyuck, what're you doing?" your voice is still heavily-laden with sleep and you cross the room to the kitchen, reaching for the first water bottle you see. "woke up a bit early and thought i'd do this for you since i have to leave at 10 for my flight and i didn't want you to be doing this alone."

you crouch on the floor beside him and offer him the water which he takes. "that's...very thoughtful of you." he doesn't answer but continues assembling the pieces with a proud smile on his face. meanwhile, you busy yourself by making a small breakfast with what you have in the fridge, a simple egg, cheese, ham english muffin sandwich. he eats it gratefully by shoveling it down hurriedly so he can get back to work, giving you a few feel-good laughs. he's done in about an hour and, not without your help, the couch is up and running (or sitting) and the two of you are reclined upon it, the new-couch smell overwhelming your senses. donghyuck checks the time and mumbles a quiet, "oh shoot," before he stands up abruptly, turning to tell you with sullen eyes that he has a flight to catch. you nod and walk him to the door, standing just across the threshold from him, dolefulness apparent in your expression as well.

"i guess i'll see you in a few weeks then," he voices as he looks up at you, tying his shoelaces.

"yeah, i guess so," your eyes never leave his, "make sure to tell your little siblings that y/n says hi okay?"

"psh, you've never even met them," donghyuck stands up straight now and you're craning your neck a little at his height.

"oh, so that one time over facetime doesn't count now?"

donghyuck gives a breathy laugh, he goes in for a hug that you reciprocate warmly. reluctance lies in his countenance as he draws back, not wanting to leave you so soon. you notice his lingering stare on you and instead of teasing him, or pointing it out, you urge him on with a hand on either side of him, "just go hyuck, i promise i'll call you later this week."

his stomach does little flips, "oh, okay," he says with a small voice, "i'll get going now then."

"okay, be safe."

"i will, babe." he just stands there looking at you with eyes full of mirth.

"oh my, hyuck, just go!" a small pout begins to form on his lips and you get the sudden urge to kiss it away.

"right, i'll be on my way." he turns away from you to walk to his car, but it's this time that you spin him back around to place a quick kiss to the lips, the smile on your face never leaving. feeling the blush beginning to seep into the skin of your cheeks, you rush back into the confines of your new apartment, leaving donghyuck to his own, flustered, devices. his feels lightheaded the whole flight back and it isn't until he is greeted at the door of his childhood home with the face of his mom, that he is brought back down from the heavens.

"donghyuck oppa has a girlfriend," his youngest sibling drawls out the last syllable as if to prolong the shock the simple statement has already inflicted upon him. his eyes are rounded and searching for any sign of disapproval in his parents’ demeanors but more so because he never intended for his family to know of your existence, seeing as it would be imminently irrelevant in just a few weeks. not only was it to dodge otherwise unimportant questions but his resolution was also linked to the fact that making you known to his immediate family felt like solidifying the ever-so-fake bond that persisted between you and him. surely, even though your relationship with him was anything but real, though was portrayed in the most real fashion, he couldn't admit to himself that the idea of you as his girlfriend in the eyes of his family brought him joy.

he watches as his mother claps her hands together in glee, exclaiming with full vindication, "how could you not tell me, hyuck!" she asks for a picture of you, your name, last name, major, how he had come to know you, when did this happen, (did you guys do it yet), and most importantly, if he loved you. he answers a quiet yes to his mother's last question but she seems to have moved on to intently stare into his phone screen that's displaying a picture you posted on your instagram a few weeks prior at the flower field. the first being a solo shot, your hair billowing lightly in the winds that seemed to blow solely for you, the gaze of your eyes fell heavy and serious, a stark contrast to the picture a swipe away, of you and donghyuck gleaming with matching smiles that rivaled the brightness of the sun, the caption reading 'my pooh bear <3.' looking back at the picture now even, he really does understand his mothers coos and 'aws.' you did indeed look ethereal.

he blushes at the thought of you and spends the rest of dinner steering conversation away from you and you-related topics, not wanting to delude himself any further from the truths that were itching in the back of his mind, that no matter how much his mother loved you, or even how much he loved you, it'd be hard for him to say that you held the same intense emotions for him as well. donghyuck retires into the confines of his childhood room as the general buzz of his family lowers into the night and he finds himself staring at pictures of him in high school, before he had met you. he wonders, for the first time, if he liked life better back then. chubby cheeks and a terrible smile, he still remembers looking in the mirror and thinking, handsome, but it's only been a few years in college and he can't remember the last time he looked in the mirror with his first thought being something other than will she think i look okay? donghyuck's string of consciousness derails further into the depths of despair, looking back on the lengths he'd gone to get a girl to getting the girl and loosing her, getting her again and loosing her again, and having to sever his true feelings from his façade just so that he could still claim you as his.

but then he's reminded of you, and how you're so dedicated in your studies but somehow still making time for friends and family. how when you care for people you care and especially of how he feels when he is the subject of your attention. donghyuck brings his little emotional escapade into a full circle when he realizes that he would still do anything to claim you as his because he simply cannot have it any other way. that despite the consistent feeling that he might never be enough for you, he would try to prove himself wrong, time and time again. that despite being dumped twice and a soon-to-be third time, he would still stick by your side, persistent if anything. he didn't just have feelings for you, a part of who he is today is built up by the successes you seemingly made him chase to become a better person in the name of you and for that, he could never see you in a different light and his heart will never fail to fail him at the sight of you.

but tonight, it's the contact name, my love, that lights his phone screen that makes his heart stutter. it's the way that your scratchy voice cracks through the speaker that makes his heart whimper. he gets up in fluid motions to shut the door of his bedroom closed, to allow himself to revel in your attention, undisturbed.

"hey there, i told you i'd call so i called," your think your voice sounds dumb, having rehearsed that same line a few times prior to actually following through with it. donghyuck loves it though, doesn't even acknowledge the rehearsed tone as he takes this as a chance to dive into a piled up vent on how his damned little sister, who shouldn't even know what girlfriends and boyfriends are, had outed his relationship with you in front of his whole family. he's nervous, but for only a split second because your hearty laughter fill his ears and suddenly sets the whole world still and at peace. he sighs in comfort as he listens to how your older brother brought his own boyfriend home and had been received just as warmly. he talks of how his mother's roast duck was slightly undercooked and how right in the middle of dinner he snuck it into the kitchen for an extra minute in the microwave. the two of you laugh at how chenle's proposition for a movie night gets widely left on read by everyone else in the group chat, though you end up feeling bad for the boy (and for laughing) and end up replying and setting up a time for when everyone returns to campus.

you feel a warm squirm in your heart and for once, you know what caused it. the boy on the other end of the line is so very endearing that you have no space for second guessing anymore. perhaps, perhaps.

talk dwindles down as you both get ready to go to bed at a starking 2:17 a.m. but it seems that sleepy you has more than enough to say. your eyes are on the brightly lit moon that's hanging out your window frame adjacent to your bed. you'd like to think that donghyuck is looking at the same moon, thinking the same things. it's a new but welcomed feeling that enters your heart, blooming into your lungs so that at the occurrence of every breath you take, you are reminded of the warmth he brings you. it's a sappy and deeply rooted feeling that you only now realize has been with you for ages on end and with this realization comes the courage to voice it aloud.

"i love you, hyuck. i fucking love you to bits and pieces."

you think he's already fallen asleep, the quiet that he's offering not doing any good to ease your wavering thoughts. not that you regretted saying what you said, it was truly what you felt for him, whether the relationship was real or not. but you weren't sure if he felt even remotely the same so staying under the umbrella of a fake relationship gave you the opportunity, should the times ever call, to recant your words in the name of performative indication.

the seconds were whizzing by quickly and your anxious mind counted to four minutes. four minutes of dead silence on his part. it's fine, you think as you hang up at the fifth minute, he probably just fell asleep. a weird feeling settles in the pits of your stomach that night. lee donghyuck likes you, that's for sure, but maybe you were the one that was rushing into it this time around. maybe hyuck expected you to bring up the fact that the two of you were still unofficially dating. or maybe he just liked to play around with your feelings while he could during this month. it was a mind boggling mess but you refused to let the boy get the best of you as you drifted off into sleep.

only god and lee donghyuck himself know that he heard you loud and clear that night. the three words he'd been yearning to hear finally and in actuality formed from your lips, for him and him only. but fate tells him it was only a figment of his half-asleep imagination, and only god knows that what he heard wasn't a dream.

huang renjun beckons lee donghyuck into the kitchen before the movie marathon begins. today marks one month. donghyuck pulls his phone out to see the hundred dollars even that renjun had transferred, he then transfers fifty of that to you. "so you guys still going strong?"

hyuck feels guilt and worry trickle between his grasps on confidence, "better than ever."

"she actually likes you back, huh, i can't believe i thought y'all would break up." renjun is pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, his gaze is turned towards the living room where everyone is gathered when donghyuck sees his eyebrows furrow. "shit, i forgot chenle invited mark." donghyuck turns to see his 'girlfriend' being hit on by one of his close upperclassmen. you seem to be oblivious but it's horridly obvious whenever mark attempts to flirt. seeing you smiling at his corny pickup lines, not quite laughing but not quite rejecting him either, donghyuck feels tendrils of unwelcome jealousy and hopeless distress as he traverses on light feet to where you're at, placing a hand on your lower back.

"hi, mark. it's been awhile, how're you these days?" he watches and, in what he knows is sick relief, mark blinks in surprise at the placement of his friend's hand that is plainly indicative of a relationship. "i've been pretty good, you?"

"great actually," donghyuck might've said that a little too enthusiastically, "i saw you were talking to y/n here. i don't think i've introduced you guys yet. mark, this is y/n, my girlfriend, y/n this is mark, a good friend of mine." he sees the pointed look you give him and is suddenly overcome with embarrassment. mark takes a few more minutes of your time before moving on to talk to renjun, the latter noting the tension between you and donghyuck and willing the boy away.

"donghyuck, what the fuck was that?" you're upset.

"what? he was being weird with you, i couldn't just sit here and pretend he wasn't." hyuck's attitude is snappy right off the bat and you can't help but seethe at how immature he's proving to be.

you retort, with equal force, "yeah, so what if he was flirting with me? what does that have to do with you?"

donghyuck starts to realize that there might be more to the reason you were so defensive in the first place, something having to do with the fact that in the most technical terms, he isn't exactly your boyfriend anymore. "y/n, why are you being like this?"

"like what? i think i'm being pretty rational."

"no. no, y/n, but he was outright flirting with you and you didn't even tell him you had a boyfriend." he knows he's grasping at loose strings but he needs to pry this out of you. to see how you really feel.

"hyuck, we need to talk about it. it's been a month."

as if you had laid it out straight for him, donghyuck feels the desperation crawl beneath his skin, "y/n, please." his tone is all of a sudden soft and you lock your eyes onto his. "let's not talk about it right now, please, not now." he watches as you bite your lower lip in contemplation and then as you nod lightly. "okay."

donghyuck isn't sure if his impulsive decisions have made him feel more relieved or afflicted with current circumstances. as the lights dim and the movie begins to run, he settles into the corner of the sectional that he claimed earlier that evening with his arms open wide. you don't hesitate to curl up on top of him, the warmth of his skin, all too familiar. both of you are ever so aware that this might as well be the last time your bodies are pressed against one another. and both of you are equally tormented by how true that may come to be.

the clock reads 3:37 a.m. when the movie ends and donghyuck is glad to see that the rest of the boys are quiet in exiting the room to their respective bedrooms. he can still feel the rise and fall of your chest on his and he's oh so careful not to move too abruptly, in the case that you might wake up and realize just where you had fallen asleep. he wishes that he could've spent a few more minutes, at least, admiring the curves of your face in the limited color the dim lights allow to reflect but it all passes too soon as someone (chenle) hits something (a doorframe) with some part of his body (his pinky toe) and wails out in pain (loud shrills), alerting you awake and anyone else that had the pleasure of falling straight asleep. he curses under his breath without realizing that you were right there and awake now, only feeling the embarrassment wash over him as your soft chuckle fills his ears.

"sorry, 'bout that. go back to sleep." his voice is low and you're so close to slipping back into unconsciousness but you will yourself to prop your chin up on his chest, directly above his quaking heart. "i'm hungry, hyuck."

he almost laughs at the absurdity of your statement. he guesses it's not completely unwarranted though since you have been asleep for the past nearly five hours but he still feels a small part of his subconscious mind tug at just how cute you are. so very cute.

"okay, princess. let's get you something to eat," he says as he dips his hands that were loosely looped around your back underneath your thighs and hoists both your combined weight up. your eyes are gleeful as he pulls you even closer to him, your own arms settling upon his shoulders. crossing the length of the room, he sets you down upon the kitchen counter. allowing himself to bask in your unadulterated attention for a few moments, he realizes the eerie silence that envelops the two of you. he slips his phone out from his sweatpants pocket and thumbs around until he lands upon a random playlist of his on spotify. hitting play, he sets the phone on the counter next to you, lowering the volume just a bit so that it wouldn't disturb the others in the house.

as donghyuck rummages through the fridge for some food, you fiddle with the zipper of the hooded jacket you're wearing. you're hit with the realization that the jacket isn't even yours to begin with and that it's hyuck's, the garment having been such a staple in your closet for the past month that it barely smells of him anymore, that it really is all yours at this point. looking around the dark room, you find yourself identifying everything you see in relation to hyuck. before you knew it, this little fake dating stunt had become so real that it was hard for you to swallow the feelings.

attempting to push past the oncoming wave of emotions, you focus your attention on other things. donghyuck's now throwing what looks like a years old hotpocket into the microwave without a plate. his back is turned to you but instead of getting lost in his messy bed hair and broad shoulders you notice the new song that replaces the previous one. it's mellow and soft and it takes you four seconds to realize just what song it is. slow dancing in the dark (by joji). maybe it really is about time to come clean with your feelings, no matter if they could be rejected or reciprocated. it isn't fair to be dragging this on, when it was fated to be ending right now, a reason to which you had broken up with him before anyways. for all you know, donghyuck might even be waiting for you to call it all off, in annoyance since the fifty dollars had already been done deal. looking around, you figure it's now or never as you slide off the counter, landing carefully on sock-clad feet. padding over, you wrap donghyuck in a snug back hug, hoping that he catches on to the situation.

he does, eventually, after you spin him about and lace your hands around his neck, swinging him around in exaggerated and silly motions. he responds with a hushed, "oh!" and continues prancing around with you before finally settling against the steady beat. the song does its job so well in calming your heart that you almost forget the reason you were a jittery mess in the first place. you prep your sappy, truth-laden speech with gruesome effort, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. little do you know, donghyuck is planning the same monologue, equally as gruesome.

the beep of the microwave resounds in the background, alerting you of how you came to this situation in the first place. but with this, his head dips into the crook of your neck as the song comes to a slow and you move your hand from his back to cradle his head. "what's wrong?" the kitchen is now silent, save for the occasional chirp of crickets and your feet shuffling around the tiled floor. donghyuck is silent himself, an inner debate ensuing your question. his chest feels heavy, the burden of a thousand lies resting upon it whilst he can only hold back his tears. he has everything he's ever wanted from you. to rest in your arms, to land a smile upon your lips, to hear an 'i love you' escape those very lips. he feels his emotions bubble up within him, threatening to spill before they really do, in the form of a soft, "i love you, y/n. that's what's wrong, i love you."

he raises his head causing your hands drop down to his back and he instantly misses the way they caressed the locks beneath his ears. he meets your eyes, through the thick haze of blackness that shrouded the room. "and i love you too," you say, voice equally soft but treading carefully; you're still unaware of the problem he's presenting, "what so wrong about that?" you tiptoe so that your foreheads meet and he has to suppress the urge to kiss you right then and there, to evade the hurt he knows will come, and so he simply hugs your body flush against his, as a substitute to his desires. your breaths tickles his nose and he closes his eyes, relishing in the moment before inevitably breaking it by saying, "because i mean it… and you- you don't. not in the way i do." your eyes penetrate his and your mouth parts to voice a response but he cuts you to it. "y/n, my love for you is real. it's always been. and i knew what i was getting into asking you do this with me but, i really wanted a second chance. i wanted it so bad and when renjun brought up the bet, even if it was fake, i just knew i had to take it. and i know this is shitty of me to just drop this on you while we're having this- this moment but i can't keep lying and pretending that my love for you is just- that it's conditional."

donghyuck lets out a breathy sigh as your hands fall from his back, his heart falling with them too. he can't see the expression on your face anymore, his eyes are glossed over with tears that are at the cusp of falling, but he isn't sure that he wants to. he's mad at himself for ruining the most perfect moment, for ruining such a calm night. the tension in the air is almost palpable but it's ripped to shreds as your hands return to cup his cheeks. tilting your head a little, you lean in for a sweet kiss, a small smile lifting the corners of your mouth as you withdraw. "who says i don't love you for real?"

it takes more than two minutes for donghyuck to collect himself, still in doubt of whether he's dreamt up the whole situation or if you are, in fact, being real. you're standing in his arms to remind him that you really are, sneaking small kisses on his cheeks every time he thinks he's finally calmed down. it's a lover's dream to be lee donghyuck, and y/l/n y/n can only fall deeper in love with every blossom of a blush rosing the tips of his ears.

you thank god, or whoever blessed this boy upon your life, that donghyuck was there that night at that stupid, stupid valentine's dance. and above all, you are endlessly indebted to renjun for his stupid, stupid bet. but mostly, you can't contain the utter awe you hold for donghyuck for simply being the perfect man he is. contrary to everyone's belief (and even your own, up until recently), donghyuck isn't an insufferable person. what they see is just a shell of a man who's too afraid to be the center of attention in any way other than 'the funny guy.' and realistically, it's only with the girl who's stolen his heart that he knows it's more than okay to be vulnerable and that maybe, just maybe, it's the only way to steal her heart back.

y/n and donghyuck share a love story they know they're lucky to be able to tell their kids and maybe even their grandkids. and if they have anything to learn from it, it's that falling in love is not just a matter of time but of circumstances, impulsive decisions, and reckless emotions. well, mostly just reckless emotions.

✧ end note — i got my first few likes on this blog a few days back and while i can say with full confidence that i do not write for follows and likes, it made me happy in the small yet extremely gratifying ways that simply writing and posting cannot. so for those few people who interacted with the teaser for this fic as well as anyone else who read up till here, guys, gals, and non-binary pals, i hope each and every one of you enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing this. with love, rouiyan.

#nct #nct fics #dreamwritersnet #nct-writers #nct haechan #haechanxreader #haechan imagine #haechan scenario #haechan fluff #haechan angst #haechan fic #i fucking did it #a whole 2k over projected amount #pain in the ass to proofread #tempted to write a spinoff for jeno and jaein #neck hurts #rouiyan fics #rouiyan writes

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lambden · 3 years ago

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Here’s some belated Geraskier fic that I finally get to post, as last week’s flash fic challenge has wrapped up! This was originally published anonymously; kudos to those of you who guessed that I was the author. Head to the collection to see the picture prompt that inspired this, as well as view the other works. I've been having a great time participating in fandom events like this; I promise there's more on the way!!! (Read on AO3)

Up To Date

prompt: "You were so hot that when you asked if I was the blind date you were looking for, I lied and said yes. But then your actual date comes up to introduce themselves and I'm so embarrassed."

G, 2.3K words, modern AU, Geralt/Jaskier

It shouldn’t be this difficult to find inspiration. He never used to struggle like this in high school, finding his muse in everyone and everything. Even his mundane trip on the city bus to and from school would give Jaskier hundreds of ideas, for poems too personal to publish or lyrics too deep for his band to use. Back then he had thought he lacked discipline and experience, so the clear choice had been to take his interest in poetry one step further and go to university.

The problem, as he’s now discovering halfway through his second year, is that he maybe hates university. He loves it, of course; he loves the praise from his professors and peers, he loves learning about the history of literature and art. He even loves the academic rivalries that wax and wane every term, and the competitions that ignite a mean streak in him he didn’t know he had.

But his assignments are of worse quality than anything he’s ever written before, and try as he might, they aren’t getting any better. Putting words on the page just to meet a count is impossible for a poet, not when the space and thoughts and images are all supposed to be cohesive. Poems used to flow from him so freely he hadn’t been able to keep track and now his well of motivation has just about run dry.

That’s what led him here, for the third time this week. His creative dysfunction has forced him into the day-to-day habits of an elderly man who spends his days reading in public gardens. It hasn’t helped so far, but maybe this third time will be the charm. Jaskier finds his favorite place: right by the koi pond, next to a strange art installation with ivy crawling along it. He sits at the base of the giant question mark, dropping his backpack onto the bench beside him.

“This better fucking work,” mutters Jaskier to himself and the koi, opening today’s book to a random poem. He refuses to let his mind wander at first, gluing his eyes to the page and reading with intense intent. The first poem he sees is about love.

Groaning, Jaskier flips the page. The next poem is also about love.

The third poem is about war, and Jaskier thinks that might be alright, until he realizes what this long-dead poet is trying to tell him, which is that war is also about love. Because it is, of course, but also of course it is. Jaskier scowls deeply and flips through the book to a random page, hoping to find something to spark inspiration that won’t just make him feel hopeless and single and hopelessly single.

Before Jaskier can get through the title, someone speaks to him, startling him so badly he jumps. “Are you Yennefer’s friend?”

Jaskier scrambles to catch the book by its cover and nearly drops it. He hadn’t even heard anyone approach. “Sorry?”

The stranger audibly sighs, as if Jaskier has inconvenienced him terribly. With all the force of someone announcing their presence at their own death row, he grits out, “I’m here for a blind date she set up. With you.” Jaskier looks up at the man and sees him wearing a blank expression, pointing at the question mark in front of the bench. “By the thing.”

“Oh,” Jaskier says, still looking at the man. It takes a second for the words to sink in because the stranger is perhaps the most handsome person Jaskier has ever seen. He could write a thousand poems and still fail to capture his beauty. He has golden eyes, for one, and a sharply chiseled face. Even grimacing like this, his jaw is set in the loveliest way, and his stern brow is framed by platinum white hair, half-tied up. He’s wearing a fairly gloomy outfit for a blind date, but maybe he told whoever Yennefer is that he would be dressed in black. Regardless, he’s making it work.

The gorgeous stranger is still waiting for an answer, scowl worsening as Jaskier tries to make his decision about how the fuck to handle this. Really, there’s no decision at all— he just impulsively takes the leap. All his best ideas come when he’s stumbling forward blind anyway. “Yes,” he finally says, jumping to his feet. “Yes, um, I’m sorry, you caught me off-guard. I’m Jaskier.”

“Geralt.” They’re of a similar height, but Geralt is so much wider. Jaskier wants to climb him like ivy on a question mark. “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

“It’s fine! I got here a while ago. You know, can’t be too early!” Jaskier has never been early for anything in his life. He sits down again and shoves his books into his bag as quickly as he can. Geralt shifts his weight back and forth between his feet before awkwardly sitting on the bench next to Jaskier, looking out at the garden. “I’ve never done this kind of thing before,” he admits, which is true. His usual lies and schemes are much less chaotic.

Geralt doesn’t reply to that, leaving Jaskier to privately wonder about his dating life. He stares at the plants, giving the impression that he might be hideously nervous. Jaskier has no idea why someone like Geralt would be nervous about anything but it’s an awkward situation, to say the least. Right as Jaskier’s about to suggest they get out of here before Geralt’s real date shows up, the man asks, “What were you reading?”

“I was studying, sort of,” Jaskier says. “I’m a student.” Then abruptly he wonders how much Geralt knows about who he’s supposed to be, and he swallows, pulse racing.

Glancing over, Geralt’s yellow eyes meet his. There’s no obvious doubt there, just a curiosity. “What’s your major?”

“Poetry,” Jaskier grins as their conversation starts to pick up something resembling a rhythm. “What about you, are you in school?”

“No,” says Geralt, cutting his dreams of a normal date conversation short. “Are you any good? At writing poetry?”

What a weirdo. Jaskier’s heart thrums. “I’d like to think so!” This, at least, is something he knows how to talk about. Except, of course, it isn’t really the truth. “Well… recently, I’ve been in a bit of a creative rut. Just waiting for the right burst of inspiration to come along.” Perhaps this blind date that he’s stolen will suffice, but he doesn’t say that. “This place is great for that, actually. I mean, it hasn’t worked yet, but I’m sure any day those fish will sing for me.”

Geralt blinks. Jaskier feels a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck. He tries a different tactic, crossing his ankles and asking politely, “Are you a reader? What kind of things do you enjoy?”

“Nonfiction,” Geralt answers, slightly stilted. His gaze drifts over to the plants once more. “Not biographies, more like… encyclopedias and field journals. I like field journals.”

“Alright,” Jaskier says, shrinking into himself. This is going terribly. “I’ll have to go bribe some scientists for their field journals, then.” The corner of Geralt’s lip twitches, and Jaskier’s stomach flips. Gorgeous and weird and maybe, although he’s trying his best to hide it behind seven layers of nerves, maybe a little amused by Jaskier. Jaskier is going to fuck him right here in the garden. “Do you take journals of your own for work?”

A rather roundabout way of asking ‘what the fuck is it that you do’ but somehow, it lands. “I’m a… researcher,” Geralt mumbles. How very vague. “But I don’t publish my findings very often.”

Jaskier raises an eyebrow. “Do you work… for a company?”

“No.”

“Right. So you’re just keeping all your findings to yourself for no good reason at all.”

“No.”

“Then it sounds like you’re a pretty terrible researcher, actually.”

Geralt’s eyes flash as he turns to glare at Jaskier. “What?”

“Well, if you don’t share what you’ve found with anyone—”

“My… colleagues—”

“Aha! So you have colleagues!” Jaskier pokes Geralt’s side. “You aren’t just holed up in some depressing storage unit with months and months of research just for you.”

Once more, Geralt half-smirks. Not even half— more like a one-fifth smirk. “Years,” he admits.

“Years…” Jaskier tilts his head to the side thoughtfully. “Why do I have the feeling that you’re perhaps a significant number of years older than me?”

“I had the same thought when I saw you sitting here,” Geralt mumbles.

Jaskier snorts. “Seems like something Yennefer should have warned us about, perhaps. I would ask you directly how old you are, but I’m fairly certain that the only response I will get is a very gruff no.”

“No,” says Geralt, nearly smiling.

Making a show of pouting, Jaskier folds his arms over his chest. “Is that your favorite word?”

“No.” Geralt breaks into laughter as he repeats himself, and his whole face lights up with it. Jaskier laughs too, delighted by how joyous Geralt looks. He’s even more beautiful when he’s happy like this, and Jaskier wants very badly for this not to be their last date. “If I tell you my favorite word, you’re bound to judge me for it, as a poet.”

“As a poet, I swear not to mock you,” Jaskier raises his hand to cover his heart, barely restraining himself from grinning.

But before Geralt can share whatever it is, someone else approaches their bench. A second stranger— a woman about his height with short brown hair, wearing a pretty blouse. Jaskier notices her much more quickly than he’d noticed Geralt, and he makes the connection instantly. This can’t possibly end well.

“Oh, Yen wasn’t kidding,” says the stranger, eyeing Geralt. “You are very distinctive!”

Geralt stares back at her, slack-jawed for a moment. “What?”

“I’m Renfri,” Geralt’s date introduces herself. Jaskier wishes the earth would open up and swallow him whole, especially when she glances over at him. Her gaze slides back to Geralt, as does Jaskier’s, and yeah, he is very fucking distinctive with that white hair and those yellow eyes. Damn. “My friend Yennefer set us up for a blind date…?”

As Jaskier contemplates throwing himself into the koi pond, Geralt twists to stare at him. Jaskier can only imagine how mortified he must look right now; his face burns as both Renfri and Geralt look his way. Perhaps Renfri will figure it out before Geralt says anything; she looks like a smart woman.

But Geralt just gets up, dusting himself off and shaking his head. “No,” he tells Renfri, which would almost be funny if it weren’t the weirdest thing Jaskier has ever seen anyone do. Then Geralt leaves, turning to walk away from both of them, leaving Jaskier and Renfri alone together in the garden. Renfri frowns, watching him go with obvious increasing confusion. Jaskier also jumps to his feet, equally confused but determined not to lose sight of Geralt.

He chases the man— and it does feel like a chase, Geralt must be fucking speed-walking away— and finally tracks him down well outside the garden. Geralt is thundering down a set of stairs leading to a parking lot and he doesn’t stop at the sound of Jaskier careening towards him. Only when Jaskier desperately calls his name does he finally stop, slowing until he reaches the bottom landing and then standing there, still.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier calls down the stairs, breathless. He begins to descend them but Geralt doesn’t turn around. “Fuck, you’re fast! Shit. I’m sorry, Geralt.”

Without looking his way, Geralt complains, so quietly that Jaskier nearly misses it, ��Yennefer is going to kill me.”

“I would have fucked off,” Jaskier says quickly, hurrying down the rest of the steps until he gets to the bottom. Geralt still doesn’t look at him so Jaskier slides none-too-gracefully into his space, demanding his attention. He’s hardly red in the face or anything, but he looks embarrassed. Jaskier crumbles. “I’m sorry. I— seriously, I don’t care, I would have fucked off. I should’ve left, I should’ve— You should go back there, she’s beautiful!”

Geralt’s nostrils flare but he doesn’t look away. “Why did you lie,” he demands, flat.

“Well,” Jaskier deflates. “Um. You’re beautiful.”

“Hmm.”

“I really am sorry,” he offers.

Geralt, still watching him closely, says, “You don’t sound sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” Jaskier throws his hands in the air, breaking away from Geralt’s stare— in the greenhouse, surrounded by bright lights and open, manmade nature, it had been easy to sit under the weight of Geralt’s eyes on him. Down here, at the end of a staircase and the entrance to a dark garage, chest still heaving, it feels too intimate. He puts some distance between them, sighing. “You want me to go back there and explain the whole situation to poor Renfri?”

When Jaskier finally turns around again, Geralt’s gaze hasn’t left him. “I want you to come have dinner with me instead,” he says, slowly but purposefully.

“Oh,” breathes Jaskier. “That’s— well, if you want that.”

“I already made a reservation for two. My name’s on the list.” Geralt is fidgeting with the end of his sleeve at first but when he approaches Jaskier he drops it, striding forward without hesitating. “Table for Geralt and one young brunet friend of Yennefer’s.”

Jaskier chokes on his own surprised laugh. “I don’t actually know Yennefer,” he needlessly explains.

“She’s going to hate you,” says Geralt, half-smirking, and then he adds, “Well, she’ll hate both of us now.”

They get to the restaurant twenty minutes late, Geralt’s hair mussed up and lips a bitten red and Jaskier wearing his backpack and a shit-eating grin. The host sees them and immediately tells them their table has been cancelled, and they end up getting terrible two-dollar slices from a hole-in-the-wall pizza place. They eat on the way back to Geralt’s car and then he drives Jaskier back to campus, kissing him soundly in the door to his apartment until Priscilla comes home and yells at Jaskier to get a room. As they squabble Geralt apologizes, polite and nervous, and kisses Jaskier’s cheek and tells him it was nice to meet him.

Jaskier goes inside and spends the next thirteen hours writing the best poetry he will ever write.

#my writing #geraskier fic #geraskier #flash fic challenge #events

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lustbile-archive · 4 years ago

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Want To Request a Song?

JohnnyxReader

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary/Warning: the third installment of the club x series. Full on public sex and exhibitionism, knife/blood play, and can border on being degrading so read at your own risk. This is also the one best at explaining what tf is going on in club x

Apart of my Club X series: Masterlist

You knew what Club X was way before you even walked through its doors.

A friend of a friend let the details of the gritty part of town spill from her lips when you had gotten together to have drinks and trade gossip in the safety of her apartment. You were equally as guilty of letting your lips loosen from the alcohol swimming in your veins, and you let this girl you knew very little about in on your secret that it had been a while since you had last gotten any. An even longer time since anyone had made you properly come. Why you let her in on such intimate details about your sex life was a mystery, but the advice she shared in response didn’t hurt in the slightest.

“There’s this club you know,” she had said, in a tone that was meant to be a whisper but fell a little short. Her nails that were decorated in chipping polish brushed comfortingly across your shoulder as she wiggled her eyebrows at you, “i’ve only been a few times, but it’s where you need to go if you’re in a desperate need for a fucking.”

You giggled at her choice words, your eyes rolling in disbelief, “so a sex club hm? I don’t know about that.”

“No, no, no,” her words slurred as she returned your laughter, clearly pleased with your doubt, “it’s better than just a sex club. See, you go and it’s like the universe creates the exact person you need right when you walk in.”

“The universe hm?”

“Yeaaaahh. The universe…” her eyes squint as her thoughts drift off momentarily, “like you walk in and they just find you. They find you and it’s like they put this spell on you. It makes you so hot like instantly, and then you’re down to business right then and there.”

“Right then and there?!” you have to admit that you’re humoring her at this point, but you’re still a little scandalized at her words, “like in front of everyone?”

“No! No, no, no,” her hands wave in front of her face like she’s swatting at an invisible bug, “I mean yeah, but it’s like they can’t even see you.”

“What they just ignore the two people just having full on sex in the middle of a club?”

“Yeah, I mean unless you want to be seen,” she explains, her face screwing up in confusion when you don’t seem to understand what she’s saying, “Listen, I can’t explain it the way they do. There’s just something that these people can do that just takes away every worry you have. You’re just there and in the moment. It’s so great you’ll just have to go or you’ll never understand.”

You humor her and let her write the address down in your phone, smiling fondly when she keeps your phone a little longer to add vulgar emojis along side the information.

And for a while that was it. The address remained in your phone, forgotten as it got buried underneath grocery lists and reminders that made little to no sense out of context. All it took for you to finally pay the club a visit was one night.

You found yourself bored out of your mind and far too horny for your own good. You were too frustrated and pissed off at the world to give yourself the satisfaction of masturbating, so instead you just sat on your phone, cleaning out your photos and notepad when you stumbled on the address paired with its mess of emojis.

Without any further thought you were up, getting ready, and calling an uber to take you to the address provided by the bubbly drunk girl. You tried to ignore the wary and judgmental glare from the driver as you pulled up on an old warehouse that was decorated with blaring red neon lights that only read “Club X: Enter at Your Own Risk.”

To say that night was a fluke was an understatement. People approached you of course, but there was no magical hypnosis that you were promised, not that you were really expecting it to actually happen. There were cute people, but no one that cut at your core enough to dull your irritation at the world. Instead you sipped at a drink someone else had graciously paid for, ogled at the pretty man working the DJ booth surrounded by his friends, and then caught another uber home with the personal promise that that would be your first, and last visit to Club X.

Well you told yourself that at least.

It was only about a week later that you found yourself pulling out an outfit and opening your uber app. You chalked it up to needing a good drink, but there was a confused nagging in the back of your mind that told you that you had no good reason for actually returning.

With a different uber driver, but a similar glare, you found yourself back at the dingy club. You sat in the same seat as before, had a new pretty face order you the same drink, as you found your glance being pulled back to the same cute DJ.

You felt some shame finding him so cute. He seemed out of place in the club. Most people here were dressed in party clothes, while he wore neutral toned hoodies, and this time a hat turned backwards. His headphone only left his ears a handful of times so he could laugh and jeer with the men that surrounded him almost like permanent ornaments. Truthfully he was handsome as hell, but other than that what was there to stare at?

You left that night with that thought pulling at your mind, and you returned multiple times after with the same thought nagging you every time.

You were becoming a regular at the club, as embarrassing as it was. Even though you had yet to experience any wild sexual magic like you had been drunkenly promised, it was like the first night your drink was spiked with a magnet that pulled you towards the building almost every weekend at this point. You hadn’t told the girl that had given you the address, and you definitely didn’t tell any of your friends. You just didn’t want them to believe that you were developing an unhealthy dependency on alcohol, even though you would never even finish one glass. And maybe if you were getting shit faced, you would understand why you kept returning, but every time you’d leave so sober that you could convince someone you hadn’t drank at all.

The first few times, you scrambled for an explanation for why you couldn’t stay away, but you always feel short. It was as if your own body was keeping a secret from your mind. It was beginning to be muscle memory they way you’d get dressed and call for an uber every time.

And you’d think with how much time you’d spent at the crowded club, watching random strangers create masses of sexual energy, you’d had seen everything, but you stiffen in confusion when you see it.

A pretty girl hopped up to the dj booth, her wild hair bouncing along with her, as the girl she was making out with only moments before giggled and squirmed in her seat. The look the DJ wears is disinterested, but aware when she leans her hands down on his table to start spilling hiccuped words in his face.

You can only see her mouth moving at a rapid pace, the music and the distance between you making her words impossible to hear. Whatever she asked prompts a gentle nod from the man, and as she prances away he moves his fingers across the knobs and switches until a new song starts to spill out of the speakers tucked into various corners of the room.

Did she request a song change? The questions runs through your mind as your eyes trace her form, your eyes only darting away when she tackles the other girl and shoves her tongue into the space of her mouth.

You had never seen someone request a song from the man, the closest thing maybe being a jab to the back from one of his friends that was a consistent character as he casually suggested something. Realistically, requesting a certain song isn’t incredibly weird, but something about the knowledge that the tall broad man standing on the platform that placed him so highly above the other bodies in the room is actually approachable was frying the nerves in your brain.

A few songs come and go by the time you’re standing up, your legs feeling as if they’re moving on their own. You’re not sure at what point between learning that you were allowed to walk up to him and you actually starting to walk towards him that you decided that you needed to get close, but the time you’re regaining your consciousness, you’re climbing the small set of stairs leading up the stage.

He seems to notice your presence before you reach him, as while you're still a bit away, his head lifts to lock his eyes onto yours. The way he smiles at you makes you stop momentarily and hesitate, one corner of his lips rises higher than the other gives his face a less than good intentioned aura. Instead of making you falter and turn back to return to the drink you had abandoned at the bar, you feel your stomach warm and turn as you pick up your steps.

Your hips bump into the edge of the table as you lean your palms flat on the top, your nails gently digging into the material as you try to form a sentence in your head. Your tongue rolls against your teeth and your lips part before he’s looking down again, but interrupting you with his own words.

“It’s about time you came up here,” he adds a dry laugh when he hears the confused noise that jumps from your chest. He ignores the quiet ‘hm?’ you offer in response before he continues, “I mean I would have made a move first but I can’t really leave my station y’know?”

He shrugs as he returns his eyes to you, clearly entertained by your confusion. Your eyes dart around his face, momentarily moving to glance at the boys that are scattered behind him either holding their own conversations or watching you two in amusement. When you look at him, he looks expectant.

One of the boys jeers at him saying, ‘fuck off John, you know they don’t know what you’re talking about.’ And even though the comment only adds to your confusion, you can’t stop the way your body warms at the spike of embarrassment it puts in you, the man in front of you only responding to the remark by digging his tongue into the inside of his cheek in irritation.

“You came here looking for trouble didn’t you?” it takes you a beat to realize he’s asking you, another moment to realize the question is meant to be suggestive, and one last one to form a response.

“I think I might be,” you feel yourself dumbly nod, as your chest gets fuzzy. Maybe this is when you finally get to experience what that girl had promised so many weeks ago. Could the dj have been your person this whole time?

“Ah ah,” he shakes his head almost disappointedly, “I need a solid yes before I can give you what you need baby. You should know that much at least.”

“I- I mean, okay,” consent you understood, but the way he says it makes your brain swim in confusion. Why wouldn’t you say yes?

“Yes. I’m looking for trouble,” you say, your own confidence finally finding its way into your words, “I’m looking to cause trouble with you.”

The smile he wears is evil, and absolutely giddy with your return of energy. He takes a few steps back from the table and gestures to his side saying, “then please, enter my office.”

You feel a jolt of energy hit you, before you’re rounding the corner of the table. You only have a second to register the sharp pain of where your hip bumped into the corner, before he’s wrapping his large hand around the back of your neck and pulling you to press his mouth against yours.

His warm breath could have been considered an aphrodisiac in the way it fills your mouth and warms your core. His other hand wraps around your waist as he backs you into the table, his hands and lips so suddenly on you is overwhelming, but not enough to distract you from the way his friends begin to start oohing at the spectacle you two put on.

What had that girl said? No one can see you unless you want them to? With the handful of boys surrounding you, you can’t help but to doubt that you can just make yourself vanish from their prying eyes, but even if you could, would you want to? You feel warm in shame, as while his tongue dips behind your teeth and explore the space of your mouth, you start to feel excited at the idea of all his friends watching you get the relief you had been craving for so long.

The moment your subconscious decided you want the boys to see you in such a vulnerable state, one of them lets out a scandalized and excited yelp, before turning to another and exclaiming, “oh shit they want us to see them. Look at that.”

The boys attached to your mouth smiles as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, a warm laugh filling the air between you, “hmm so bad aren’t you? You like to be watched?”

You whine in response, as your hands move to claw at his soft t-shirt. Your hips jump and knock into his when his fingers start to grope and squeeze at your flesh. You’re acutely aware at the way he presses his leg between yours and uses his hand to make you start grinding on his thigh.

“How ‘bout you give them a real show and bend over nice a pretty for us,” it’s not a question, but a demand as he lifts you slightly away from the table, and turns you to push your torso down flat. You try to take deep breaths, as his hands run up and down your sides until the tips of his fingers pinch the hem of your skirt.

“There we go,” he sounds overtly proud, when he flips the fabric up to lay against your back, his friends responding to the newly exposed flesh of your ass with appreciative whistles.

He steps to the side of you, his hands slipping between your hips and the table to lift them up. He uses his grip to move you side to side, shamelessly encouraging you to tauntingly move your hips for the many sets of eyes. If it wasn’t for the way your walls softly clench around nothing, you would be ashamed of the way being watched like this makes you drip.

He begins to drag the thin fabric of your underwear down, to tease not only you, but your engaged viewers. Once the fabric hits the floor, there’s a chorus of hisses and groans at the sight of you wet and excited.

You whimper at the feeling of so many eyes tracing your body, even louder when the man grabs onto the flesh of your ass to spread you for them all to see. You don’t know what comes over you when you petulantly kick the floor and let out a demanding ‘please.’

The only response you get in return is his hand running against you to check the severity of your arousal and the jeers from the boys of how, ‘Johnny got a bratty one.’

If it weren’t for the blaring music, you’d hear the metallic sound of his zipper being pulled down, the only thing you get as a warning that he had pulled himself from the restraints of his underwear, is when the leaking tip of his cock begins to dip into you.

You feel the tense strain on your muscles melt away as he presses into you. The size of him stretching you out makes you feel delirious as you’re thankful for the amount he’s managed to make you wet in such a short amount of time, as if he hadn’t you’re not sure he’d be able to fit so easily.

When his hips finally press tightly against you, he lets out a rumbled groan. His hands hold tightly to your hips as he pauses to give you both time to adjust, and you can only somewhat hear the shuffling of the others as they move in an attempt to get a better angle to watch.

His thrusts are lazy and deep as he moves against you, one hand leaves your skin and the fabric of his shirt moves away telling you he’s lifting it in his own attempt to get a better look at where he fucks into you.

Your legs part farther as you begin to desperately shake, the way he digs into every nerve inside you makes you keen, but you want nothing more than to have him move harder.

“Please John,” you beg, trying to see how his name would taste in your mouth, your own hand moving back to wrap tightly around his wrist.

“Shut the fuck up,” you barely register the pain that burns through your skin from where his open palm meets the sensitive skin of you ass. His tone was harsh, but the satisfied chuckle that not only leaves him, but also his friends, makes a dopey grin fill your face as a moan rolls off your tongue.

“Fuck look at how bad they want it,” the voice from your side tells you it’s someone else, the tone excited and bubbly as if they’re watching something a lot more innocent than a stranger get fucked in the middle of a club.

“So bad huh?” Johnny sounds almost proud at the way you and everyone reacts to the pleasure he’s giving you, “such a good little whore, taking everything I’ll give.”

Pleads and begs roll off your tongue as his harsh words fry your brain. His hips only quicken slightly before he’s grabbing your side to pull you up against him. It feels like a flash of time, when he grabs the hem of your shirt, and pulls it over your head. Once you're bare to the stuffy air of the club and your shirt is thrown carelessly over his shoulder, you're just as quickly shoved back onto the table and he’s pistoning fast and harshly into you.

His hand harshly meets you burning skin again and you squeak in response. His voice is rough as he puts all his strength into fucking you deep and he commands to no one in particular, “someone get it for me.”

His words mean nothing as the way he pulls against you starts pushing to the edge of your orgasm. You can only gasp and claw at the table when one of his friends leans closer and taps at your spine right between your shoulder blades and whatever he holds against you begins to cut into your skin.

Once his friend is moved away, he suddenly pulls out making you clench harshly and whine. You feel the trickle of blood that travels down your skin, but the sting of his warm tongue collecting the dripping red and digging into the new wound on your back. The sting is almost unbearable and makes you squirm against him, but the pain is muffled when he reaches down and begins to roll tight circles onto your neglected clit.

His fingers are unrelenting as he rushes you to your finish. The pleasure between your thighs mixing with the sharp pain against your back makes your vision begin to go fuzzy. You can only somewhat register the boyish laughs of excitement that surround you as you finally start to come.

It feels like there’s a monster inside you that claws at you nerves. Every inch of your body set on fire is so distracting, you can only yell into the air when he moves to push back into you. He thrusts only a few times before he stills against you, the warmth of him filling you making your overstimulated nerves scream.

You can only lie there as he starts to fix your clothes, harsh demands of ‘the show is over, go away’ begin thrown over his shoulder as he drags you away and back to the bar.

You sleepily lean against him as he nods at the stoic man handing out drinks. He brings you a glass of water, that Johnny presses against your chapped lips.

“You can come relax behind the booth while I work once you finish the glass,” he reassures as he pets at your damp skin, “the boys are a lot nicer than what you just witnessed I swear.”

You’re too dopey to truly register what he says as you only nod in response before babbling, “so you’re my person?”

The laugh he lets out is soft, a lot sweeter and warming that any he’d offered before, “yeah I’m your person, and you’re wild ass is mine.”

#nct smut #johnny smut #nct #johnny #nct imagines #johnny imagines #nct oneshot #johnny oneshot #johnny suh #club x

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rococospade · 3 years ago

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Regarding my characterisation of Laurence, the First Vicar

Okay so anyone who’s had to talk with me for more than five minutes knows I have *a lot of feelings* on the First Vicar and while I’m going to try and keep this to stuff I can support via lore, that will almost certainly bleed over in here and I apologise in advance. I’ll try to stick to things I can support from canon.

Other notes: I will be referencing deleted content for this, and it is a long post because I have a lot of thoughts. So post under the cut, beware of spoilers, so on.

(As an aside, if you read my fics, dear god does this post have spoilers for those too, since a lot of my fic world building is me trying to piece lore together!)

@fishbowlcarnage thanks for getting me to write this. It’s incomplete and unfinished, and I’ll definitely want to add to it as I play through DS3 and the Fishing Hamlet in BB, but I hope it’s enjoyable as it is. Also thanks to Marie for gently pushing back on my assertions so I have to find a basis for them, and to every lovely person who’s chatted with me about lore and this strange and beloved game.

General notes:

Most of this is predicated on a handful of things:

Laurence was probably a Choir member. He stole the Choir from Byrgenwerth, and it’s noted that the church uniforms are based on Byrgenwerth’s. And if you look at it, what does it most closely resemble? Willem’s clothes. So either Willem had disciples’ outfits designed to look like less fancy versions of his, or else Laurence chose an outfit that visually conveyed “I’m taking your job” for himself and his own minions.

Laurence was not from Yharnum: it comes up in deleted lines that the person who founded the Healing Church was a foreigner. While that line was cut, we do still hear the huntsmen blaming foreigners for their plight, and while I will admit that nationalism and xenophobia are a big part of Bloodborne it would make an… interesting sort of sense if the Healing Church was actually headed by one. Also, Laurence and Willem have different accents to the rest of Yharnum, at least to my ear. I’m also a filthy American, so feedback on this point is very welcome.

Laurence was probably a combatant: this is probably my hardest argument to make because it relies on the most abstract points. Laurence is found with the Gentle Beast’s Embrace rune. That’s a combat rune. Even if he’s trying to heal the scourge, if we operate on the presumption that he did want to help people, and he found a rune that seemed to safely turn him into a stronger bestial form, don’t you think he’d take up arms if he hadn’t already? Aside from that, the clerics use a lot of blood. Now, @msoftserved has pointed out to me that that was probably a religious thing as much as a functional one, but I’m still fascinated at the idea that the clerics could somehow take enough blood to over a long enough period to become giant beasts without also being hunters (since hunters are noted for their extreme willpower, and being able to do things like force themselves to stay awake under the effects of blue elixir). I also suspect the clerics fought, since it’s noted that the Hunters of the Healing Church made the Hunter’s Workshop redundant, and the hunters we see from the Church are dressed like… clergy. I may add to this section later, as my brain is currently refusing to articulate my thoughts in any sort of useful manner.

Actually! Coming back to this, with something a little less tenuous: the Vicar’s Pendant has a blood gem inside for hunting beasts. Why would they have that if they weren’t actively hunting beasts themselves? It’s not on display, you have to break the amulet to get at it. So… if it were purely decorative, you’d expect it to be visible. And if it weren’t, one would expect them to have something support based. But no, it’s an attack up specific to beasts. Which to me implies two things: the amulet could be used for offensive casting/spells, and the owner of the amulet was expected (at least some of the time) to fight.

In addition to this, Gehrman also refers to the Clerics of the Healing Church as “the guardians” of Hunters, and cries out for Laurence to help him in his sleep. Even if Laurence was not a combatant, I found that to be a really interesting detail; it speaks to Gehrman’s belief in Laurence’s competence. Especially once you finish the game. He’s not crying out for a god to save him. He’s crying out for Laurence, and Willem.

About Laurence’s personality:

I think it’s fair to argue he was probably charismatic. He managed to repeatedly amass a following; first at Byrgenwerth, where he stole Willem’s best students from under his nose (including Micolash, someone who seems to fundamentally disagree with Laurence on how to ascend humanity? Which is pretty wild in and of itself) but also convinced several major characters to help him, including Gehrman (who seems to have had heroic intentions, though he’s of course Not Okay because this is a Soulsborne game) and freakin’ Ludwig (first Church Hunter! First man to organise the hunts instead of having everyone do whatever with 0 coordination! And canonically stated to be from a long line of knights, which implies Ludwig was probably a noble or at least a member of the gentry, but signed on to work with this foreigner.

Laurence was likely either ostentatious, or found the appearance of being so valuable: dude has a weird skull elevator and I’ve never been able to forget it. I thought it was weird when I found it but wrote it off as typical Bloodborne… until I read “fool me”, which pointed out that the elevator was probably, in fact, something Laurence either designed or commissioned. It was definitely way more expensive than just installing a ladder or stairs… But organisations thrive on symbols. And the Healing Church is rife with symbolic imagery, from the architecture to the decorations to the uniforms. There’s really no functional reason to have the members dress like they do, which means it was likely a case of needing to present a certain image or be immediately recognisable to the public. (On a loosely related note, the Church Giants wearing items from the Black Church Set is… kind of cute in a weird way. Who made the clothes? Who dressed them up? These questions haunt me.)

Laurence may have been capable of miracles or pyromancy: this one is a big stretch, but I’m going to bring it up anyway. Laurence’s attacks in his Cleric Beast form (specifically the ones that leave lava in their wake) resemble a pyromancy from the Dark Souls series. We also see patients from the Research Hall that cast miracles in the Hunter’s Nightmare. Seems like a jump to attribute miracles to Laurence from there, right? Well… the Vicar’s Pendant that Amelia uses to heal herself is noted to have been passed down amongst the Vicars of the Healing Church. Presuming she’s using the ‘heal’ miracle, then the pendant is apparently her talisman. She had to have learned the technique somewhere, and talismans in the Souls series aren’t unique to one caster — anyone with sufficient faith can utilise a talisman to cast miracles. So it stands to reason that if Laurence had the necessary faith, he could have wielded the amulet in the same way.

Misc notes:

Willem was doing some horrifying stuff at Byrgenwerth. I’m kind of surprised more people don’t seem to address that? Byrgenwerth is the only area with the garden of eyes enemy in the main game. Those things are wearing patient gowns. “What we need… is more eyes” seems rather chilling in the light of that particular enemy, and its official name.

In addition to that, at least two of his prized students turned out to be… you know… insanely charismatic cult leaders. I’m talking about Micolash and Laurence, of course. What are the chances he collected two dangerous twinks that would betray him entirely on accident? Oh, but two’s a coincidence, right? Except… Gehrman. You know, the First Hunter. He was apparently rather attached to Willem too, since he calls him ‘Master’… so that’s… three students of Willem’s that decided, actually, let’s do this extremely morally dubious thing in pursuit of knowledge/power/good of mankind? Oh! And Gehrman amassed a following too, actually. The original Hunter’s Workshop. That’s… That’s definitely a pattern by now.

The Gentle Beast’s Embrace rune grants reduced fall damage. I ran with the idea from there that cleric beasts (probably beasts in general) have an instinct common to both canines and felines — get the high ground. Now. This is also supported (as much as anything is supported) by where you find Cleric Beasts — the first one is sitting atop a roof over the great bridge, essentially the highest suitable platform in central Yharnum, while Laurence the first Vicar is sprawled dramatically in the arms of a statue over his altar in the Hunter’s Nightmare. So I tend to depict him perching in high places when left on his own, especially once he’s begun falling to beasthood.

#bloodborne lore #bloodborne lore discussion #laurence the first vicar #long post #note to self #character discussion #character headcanons

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lizzy-williams · 4 years ago

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𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐬

👽 Warnings: SMUT, language, etc.

👽 Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWsOp1-1b2w

Middy Titty by Paulie Leparik

masterlist

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃 to be on the set of Colson’s music video. Being an actress, you were no stranger to film sets, but you had never been to a set for a music video, which excited you. You wouldn’t be in it, but you would be there with him, and you couldn’t ask for more.

When you and Colson walked in, (with masks of course), you were greeted by a cluster of crew, saying hello and even giving Colson a cold-brew coffee, which you knew he appreciated.

Colson was then rushed off to a dressing room to start shooting, and you took a seat in one of the chairs, which happened to be right next to your friend, Mod Sun.

“Hey, [ y / n ], how you doin’?” he asked you, leaning on the side of his chair to get closer to you.

“Hey Mod, not to bad,” you smiled, looking around at the bright pink set in front of you, “So, Mr. Big Shot director, huh?” you teased.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I would be in charge of something like this.” he chuckled.

“Best of luck to you, sir.” you rested your hand under your face, “And if you need any help from me, don’t hesitate to ask,”

“Will do, [ y / n ].”

You sat in the chair for a good 30 minutes, scrolling through your Twitter and Instagram, droning off as you waited for filming to start.

“How do I look?” Colson’s voice rang out behind you, making you turn to him.

You started laughing loudly as you looked at what your boyfriend was wearing. There he stood, a cheesy navy sailor looking outfit covering his body. You had to say he looked really dorky.

“You look...” you stood up, strutting towards him with a smirk on your face, “Like my perfect, handsome, amazing dork,” you stood on your tip-toes as you planted a kiss on his nose, making him smirk.

“Yo! Kells, on set!” Mod yelled from across the set, Colson’s head perking up.

“Duty calls,” he jeered, kissing you quickly on the lips before jogging over, and you watched in admiration.

You had been watching your boyfriend work all day, seeing him in and out of different characters, loving every single one of them. You had to hand it to Mod, he had some good ideas, and watching them happen before you was mesmerizing, despite the fact that you had been on sets before.

Your personal favorite was the mustache man. When Colson first stepped out with that certain costume on, you laughed. He would wiggle his eyebrows in a cheesy way.

You had to admit, this was the happiest you had seen Colson when recording a music video, and you were happy to see it. He was enjoying making the things he wanted to make; music that he personally enjoyed.

But there was one specific costume that made you feel... strangely attracted to him. It was the last costume of the shoot, and at first when you looked at him, it didn’t seem like anything too extreme. It was just a hospital gown. But once he started shooting, and you caught a glimpse of his... area, you couldn’t pull yourself to look away.

You suddenly felt a tingle sensation in your core. What the fuck, why are you getting so turned on by this? And this was the worst time to get in the mood. You didn’t want to ruin the fun, energetic vibe that everyone had created, just because you couldn’t control your hormones.

So there you sat, in the chair, squeezing your thighs together tightly as you tried to release the tension in your core. You were getting needy, and without you knowing it, Colson had picked up on it, locking eyes with you giving a suggestive stare.

Soon, (thank god), the shoot was over, and everyone was saying their goodbyes, congratulating Kells on his new song, hugging goodbye and closing up shop.

You walked out to the car with Colson, getting in as you sat shotgun, somewhat impatient, with wasn’t like you, especially with this. Something about that fucking hospital gown was so compelling to you, and you were so confused.

You and Colson drove home in silence, the radio playing softly in the background as the agonizing sexual tension between the two of you began to grow slowly. You wanted to jump his bones right then and there, but you didn’t want to have him crash, that would be the worst case.

You smiled to yourself thinking of the titles the tabloids would come up with.

Pop Punk Star Machine Gun Kelly Crashes Car Because Girlfriend Couldn’t Keep It In Her Pants!

As soon as you got home, you immediately went to the bedroom, Colson hot on your trail, racing up the stairs. As you got in, you locked lips with your lover in a quick and needful kiss as he kissed back immediately. You both knew where this was going.

“I saw you watching me today,” Colson groaned, pulling back for air, “You looked so hot squirming in your seat... so needy for me, huh, princess,”

His words turned you on even more as you gave a nod. You weren’t feeling guilty about the hospital gown, in fact you were almost proud, happy that there was a chain reaction to your new-found attraction to the piece of clothing.

“Strip,” he commanded, his tone sending chills down your spine.

You did as he said, almost too eagerly, taking everything off, exposing your most recent surprise.

“Oh, Fuck-,”

There, newly installed, were a pair of nipple piercings. When Colson brought up that he found the piercings in that spot particularly attractive, you thought why not? and got them done. And now Colson’s eyes were completely hazy with lust and want.

“When did you get those done, baby,” he muttered, pulling you in by your waist, licking up the side of your neck and up to your ear lobe.

“A couple days ago,” you smiled devilishly, “I thought they would be a good addition to our bedroom escapades.”

“You really do think of everything, don’t you,” he chuckled, picking you up as you let out a squeal, your legs wrapping around him tightly.

He kissed you deeply as he carried you both to the bed, plopping you down on the bed, making you laugh, because now he was the eager one.

He leaned down, kissing down your body, starting at your collarbone and going down to your breasts, groping them. He licked his lips as he looked up as you, then down to your nipples, the metallic pieces making them all the more alluring.

He gently glided his tongue across the skin of the pebbled buds, making your breath hitch and a gentle gasp emit from your lips.

“Fuck, so hot baby, you always know exactly what to do to turn me on princess,” he grunted, his fingers running over each piercing with care. After all, he knew how tender piercings like that are.

“Kells, please,” you whined, your hands running over his hair, soothing it, as his glossed over eyes met your gaze.

“Please what, princess, use your words,” he spoke cunningly, knowing just the right buttons to push to get him where he wanted you; needy and craving his touch.

“Please, baby, I need you to touch me,” you took one of his hands with yours as you guided it down to your throbbing clit.

“Whatever you want baby,” he smiled, stripping down completely, coming back over and getting on his knees, pulling you to the edge of the bed, his warm breath hitting your clit making you gasp.

He suddenly attacked your clit, biting, licking and sucking as you writhed in ecstasy. Your hands tangled themselves into his hair as he continued his assault on your core.

You let out loud mewls as he devoured you, your head thrown back. Colson looked up at you, watching your body. He wanted nothing more to brand this image into his brain. Your hair messy, mouth open almost drooling, and body almost glowing.

“Kells, I’m gonna cum-” you gasped out, wanting release that you were so desperately craving since the afternoon.

He suddenly pulled away and you wanted to scream. The loss of contact was almost painful, wanting nothing more than to feel the rush of rapture. You whined pathetically, Kells licking your arousal off his lips.

“Patience, princess, I’ll give you what you want,” he paused, “or maybe I could put a 9 volt battery up to your new friends and see how you react,” he paused again, “Or do you just wanna cum?”

“Please Kells, let me cum, I want you to taste me,” you begged, and you knew your words would persuade him.

“As you wish.”

He got on top of you as you both shifted towards the headboard. He went immediately to your neck, sucking at all the right spots.

He then lined himself up with you, but before he could, you rolled the two of you over, your core now grinding up against his shaft that was flat on his torso as he let out a low groan.

“Fuck baby, you wanna ride me, huh?” he asked, smirking.

You nodded as you lifted yourself up, positioning your core with his throbbing cock. You slowly started to sink down, both of you gasping as you slid down. Once he was all the way inside you, you took a minute before you started moving.

You felt his hands reach up and grasp your breasts, his thumb rubbing over your nipples, your hips moving up and down, picking up pace quickly.

“Fuck, baby, you look so good riding me like this, you know that?” he groaned out, “You look so perfect, I love you so much, my special girl,”

Praise fell from his lips, your core now slamming down on his shaft, desperate to make the both of you cum. You wanted to feel him cum inside you so bad it was almost painful.

“God, I can feel you clenching, are your about to cum baby?” he moaned out.

All you could do was nod your head, and he could see you were getting tired. He put his hand on the small of your back, pushing you down so your chest met his, his feet now planted flat across the bed, his hips slamming up into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you tightened around him.

“Cum when I say, okay baby??” he frantically made your hips meet yours and you moaned in confirmation.

You were so close, so close to reaching rapture that you almost couldn’t take it.

“Now you may cum!” he commanded.

You felt yourself fall apart in his grasp. Your legs shook, your body tensing and relaxing as you felt his cum cover your walls.

You finally found the strength to lift your head up to look at him, a smile on his face as he looked down at you with nothing but love.

Without talking, you pulled yourself up. And off of him. You collapsed next to him as he pulled you close.

“Still thinking about the battery idea?” you joked, your eyelids getting heavy.

“Next time, baby,” he soothed, “Right now you need to get some sleep, okay?” he slid his hands up and down your arms.

You nodded sheepishly, letting your eyes finally close.

Before you fell asleep, you heard him mutter, “I love you.” and you fell asleep in total and utter bliss.

You were exactly where you were supposed to be.

#machine gun kelly smut #mgk smut #tickets to my downfall #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #concert for aliens #bloody valentine #est #hotel diablo #lace up #rookxx #slimxx #Dubxx #bazexx

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years ago

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The Hitchhiker - Chapter 1/4

Picking up a hitchhiker isn't exactly the dumbest thing Kurt has ever done, but it's not exactly the smartest either. When he comes across Blaine Anderson caught in a sudden downpour, he can't just leave him on the corner to drown... can he? (1756 words)

Read on AO3.

“Excuse me? Sir? Do you need a ride?”

Kurt flashes as confident and honest a smile as he can to the man standing on the side of the road. But the second those words leave his mouth, he hears his father’s voice in his head yelling: “Kurt Hummel! What the hell are you doing? Picking up a hitchhiker? Are you out of your mind!?”

And Kurt has to admit, the voice is right.

There is a fifty-fifty chance that this man, standing alone in the dark by the side of the road, is a violent serial killer. His outfit alone perpetuates the stereotype - indigo jeans, white t-shirt, leather jacket. He has an olive-green duffel slung over one shoulder and he's carrying a guitar case, for God’s sake! What are the odds that there’s actually a guitar in there!? If Kurt picks this man up, he has a greater chance of becoming a statistic than of that man being a musician! Kurt should drive away now without an inch of guilt, floor it without looking back.

And he probably would have deferred to his better judgment and stepped on the gas had it not been for a few things.

It's pitch dark out for a start. Only a handful of street lights line the curb, installed twenty or so feet apart, which creates long expanses of shadow in between. The road they're on is in the middle of nowhere, with trees towering on both sides of them. This doesn’t help Kurt’s argument any since it seems like just the place a killer would lie in wait for a potential victim. But, in that same vein, someone or something could be stalking him, waiting for Kurt to drive away so they can pounce on him from the trees. Then it would be up to the reach of this man's legs and his athletic ability to save him.

This leads directly to reason two: the man is a klutz. In the five minutes Kurt has been stuck at this red light, he’s seen him smack himself in the face with his own bag, drop his sunglasses (pink rimmed Wayfarers, no less), catch them, then fumble them again, and step in the same puddle twice. If this man is a serial killer, he may not be the most competent one on the planet.

Three, just as Kurt’s light turned green, it started raining. And not the light drizzle he has come to expect during his infrequent forays to San Diego, but an honest-to-God downpour. Kurt saw the man turn his face up to the sky, his shoulders slumped, wholly defeated by this new development. He put the butt of his guitar case on the toes of his shoes to keep it out of the mud, then attempted to wrap his jacket around it.

And Kurt’s heart melted.

Kurt is a musician himself. Singer more than musician but he has friends who play the guitar. His stepbrother Finn owns a Fender that he sold plasma to afford. Puck's Gibson is the only thing he has never hawked when he needed money. And Sam, in this man's position, would take off every stitch of clothing to protect his Blueridge if it came down to it. Kurt can imagine this man’s whole life wrapped up in that case, which he is now convinced does hold a guitar.

Kurt isn't a gun enthusiast by any means, but he thinks a semi-automatic should be able to withstand some weather. He may want to Google that one later on… provided he’s still alive.

And about that guitar case: it isn’t a plain, generic, black guitar case. The thing is covered in travel stickers and bling. It has a personality all its own. An easily identifiable personality. If this man is a killer, Kurt is pretty certain every human on the West Coast would know about it. He’d be nicknamed the Kitsch Case Killer or something along those lines. That case sticks out like a sore thumb. There’s no way a man carrying a guitar case decorated like an old-school Lisa Frank binder is getting away with swiping a pack of gum, not to mention murder.

To a lesser degree (Kurt tells himself so he doesn't have to admit how idiotic this idea is), this is the most a-dork-able man Kurt has ever seen. He looks more like a puppy than a predator (weak reasoning, he knows). But Kurt has instincts about people that are usually on the money. He has to give himself credit for making it this far in life. Kurt is tougher than he looks. He has taken his fair share of licks, and he’s still ticking.

Plus, he has bear repellent in the pocket of his jacket the size of a can of Aquanet. He feels he has his bases covered.

The man walks slowly towards Kurt's car, the curls piled atop his head hanging heavily down his cheeks the wetter he gets.

No, Kurt can’t leave him out here.

“Um. Thanks. Thanks a lot,” the man says, cautiously eyeing Kurt up and down as if he may be asking himself Kurt’s same string of questions in his head. “But I… ” The fact that he isn’t jumping at Kurt’s offer, that he’s glancing anxiously down the road, mulling his options even as rain pours down his back, puts Kurt at ease. The man looks like he’s trying to gauge if Kurt might have a weapon hiding somewhere on his person, contemplating if he’ll come out of this alive if he accepts this ride.

Ironic, but that proves that there are two sides to every situation.

The man looks about to step away and decline until a fork of lightning turns night into day for five seconds, a boom so loud following it shakes Kurt’s rental car.

“Sure. Okay. Why not?” He pulls open the rear door in a rush but still wary as he puts his belongings into the backseat and joins Kurt in the front. “Thank you so much. I didn’t expect it to rain this hard, or I might have stayed in my hotel room one more night.” He runs a hand through his hair, cringing at the water that sprays the headrest.

“Not a problem.” Kurt reaches behind the seat and grabs the towel he’d fished out of his luggage earlier when he’d done the same thing. But the rain was only a sprinkle then – angel spittle, his mom would have called it. “I couldn’t just drive by and leave you out here to drown.”

The man chuckles. It, much like the rest of him, is too cute for words. “My name’s Blaine.”

“Kurt.” Kurt extends a hand for Blaine to shake. Blaine looks at it, hesitates a second before taking it, still questioning Kurt and his intentions, Kurt assumes. Despite being stuck in the rain, Blaine’s hand is warm, comforting in a way Kurt speculates a serial killer’s hands would not. “Well, Blaine, where you headed?”

“Oh, uh… I’m trying to make my way to L.A. But you can drop me off anywhere between here and there.”

“Ooo. Actor? Producer?”

“Unemployed schlub, unfortunately. Currently riding my brother’s couch. He’s the actor. I’m the… the failure.”

Kurt pulls onto the road again and heads for the highway. “That’s a really unkind thing to say about yourself.”

“It’s what… well, it’s what my father would say.” He wrings his hands uncomfortably. “He’d also say I’m a disappointment, a waste of a Harvard education, a bum… ” He shivers. Kurt raises the temperature of the heater. Blaine glances at Kurt in embarrassment, and Kurt gets the hint that it’s not the cold that has him trembling.

“I know it’s not my place to say, but I’d stop listening to your father if I were you. It doesn’t seem like he has anything worthwhile to say.”

“How can you say that? You don’t even know me,” Blaine says under his breath, with an edge like a growl, the kind wild animals give when you stumble into their territory unaware. It sets the hairs on the back of Kurt’s neck on end, and he starts second-guessing this decision.

Relax, Kurt. The man’s just beat down. Exhausted. You understand what that’s like.

Blaine sighs, sinking into the passenger seat and leaning his head against the window. "I'm sorry. I know you're trying to be nice. It's been a long day."

“I understand. And I may not know you, but I know fathers," Kurt continues. "A father’s job is to be supportive of their children, no matter what they do in life. Succeed or fail, win or lose, they should always be in your corner. And if he’s not, screw him! Surround yourself with people who want to lift you up, not tear you down.”

Blaine winds his arms around his torso, hugging himself tight. “I---is that the way your father treats you?”

“Yup,” Kurt answers with a subconscious smile at the mention of his dad. “He supports me in everything, even the stuff he doesn’t entirely agree with. And when things don’t work out, he’s the first person there, helping me to my feet and encouraging me to try again.”

“Sounds like a great guy. You’re lucky.”

“He is," Kurt says proudly. "And I am.”

Blaine fixes his gaze to the road ahead as Kurt merges onto the highway. He chews the inside of his cheek, stares too hard at the rain-slick asphalt, not shifting focus. It's as if he can't bring himself to look at Kurt when he asks, “So, you think you’re a good judge of character?”

Kurt nods. “Yes, I do."

"How do you know?"

"Experience. I have a decent track record.”

"Surround yourself with a lot of questionable people, do you?"

"I guess you can say that," Kurt agrees with a laugh, thinking of the people who have come into his life that he has adopted as his own: Rachel, Dave, Santana, Puck, all of them rivals or bullies. Or both. But now, a cherished part of his found family.

People he hopes will miss him if SDPD finds him by the side of the road tomorrow with his throat cut.

Stop it, Kurt! Relax! You're in no danger! Everything is going to be fine!

Blaine shrugs, examining his wet hands as if he’s reading something etched on his skin. “Someday you’ll be wrong.”

“Probably." Kurt meets Blaine's eyes in the reflection of the windshield, flashes his confident smile again. "But I don’t think that day is today.”

#klaine #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction

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tendiyu · 4 years ago

Text

A Show

giyu tomioka x fem!reader

CEO AU

warnings: daddy kink, overstim, edging, degradation, slight public scene, penetration, pwp, smut!

The way the two of you had met was odd, you worked part-time at a maid cafe in Tokyo, and Giyu was the CEO of a famous company. You noticed the quiet man had taken quite the interest in you. He always requested that you would be his waitress, and when he came to the little cafe, they would close down due to his request. You honestly don’t know what ended up leading him to be attracted to you as the class difference between the both of you was insane. You were a college student currently majoring in business, while he was a CEO. You had memorized his favorite order, which is what he usually ordered anyways. What you didn’t know was that today was going to be different from the rest. You went over to his booth, always showing him your best smile, as he tipped well. On certain days you’d walk away with over $400 in tips from him alone.

“Don’t you ever get bored of working here?” He asked while sipping on his drink.

“Well, Master Tomioka I wouldn’t be able to see you if I got sick of working here,” You said unconsciously, blushing when you realized what you said.

You quickly smiled before excusing yourself to the kitchen. You took in a deep breath, regaining your composure before heading back out and sitting across from him, as per his request. You chatted with him, keeping it light and formal. Once he was done you got up, bringing his plates into the kitchen. When you came back he motioned for you to sit back down.

“I have an offer for you, hopefully, one you’d say yes to, would you like to be my sugar baby?” He asked and your eyes widened.

You had never expected him to come to you with such an interesting offer, as that’s the first word that came to mind. You had to think it over and ask questions about it as you couldn’t say yes without knowing what you had to give to him as well.

“Could we talk about this more in-depth after my shift, here I’ll give you my number,” You said and he nodded.

You wrote down your number on a piece of paper handing it to him, and then you got up bowing slightly. You said goodbye and escorted him out of the small maid cafe. The cafe soon opened up normally for business and customers flowed in at an insane rate. You were busy but your mind kept wandering to the offer, on your break you checked your phone to see that Giyuu had messaged you, telling you that it was him. You texted back asking him to explain the deal you two would be making in more detail. He sent you a long text explaining that they would move at a rate that was comfortable for you, which you genuinely appreciated. You told him that you’d agree to it as long as he allowed you to set the pace, you honestly didn’t mind the CEO was an attractive man. Fast forward a few weeks, the agreement worked without a hitch, you’d go on dates with him and he would spoil you immensely. Giyuu had taken you lingerie shopping as you told him you were in desperate need of new pieces, which he quickly agreed to do so. He didn’t need to ask for pictures as he knew you’d send them to him. He bought you such beautiful and intricate pieces although you insisted on simple ones that were cheaper. Today was your day off and you knew he had an important meeting so you decided to take pictures with his favorite set from the day. Over it, you slipped on the oversized sweatshirt that he had left from your movie date night. You took a picture of you in it, the garter belt poking out which held up your stockings. You told him to have a good meeting and that more surprises would come soon, and for him to text you when the meeting was done. Giyuu had bought you a wall-length mirror and paid for the workers to install it as well, as he wanted you to be able to take cute outfit pictures for him. You brought over your pink gaming chair, slipping on the bunny ears he liked, which matched the color of your set which was royal blue. You sat on it and did different poses. You then pushed the chair back to your desk, going on your knees in front of the mirror, and held onto the bow the tied your bra together. You took a few more pictures that you were sure he’d like and then went over to your game doing some of the work you were given today at university. You then opted to play a few rounds of your favorite game, as Giyuu had recently bought you a new set up, it was probably the best one you’ve had to date. Your phone went off and you saw the Giyuu had texted you, he told you that he was now out of his meeting. You selected the pictures you’d knew he like the best and sent them to him. You put your phone down and went to the bathroom. Honestly, you began to notice how much your life had changed when you became his sugar baby, you were living in a better apartment, struggling less and happier. You heard your phone go off and you quickly made your way to your phone. You grabbed it seeing that Giyuu was facetime you. You picked it up smiling and waving, he greeted you but you could see how tired he was which made you sad.

“You look stunning in that set, I’m glad you let me get it for you,” He said softly and you nodded.

“Thank you, are you okay you seem tired? Is there anything I could do for you?” You ask him, only wanting to take care of him as he with you.

“Yeah, is it okay if I swing by after work? I only want to be in your company, I can order some food to your house as well,” He said and you nodded.

“Yeah of course, if you want I can run a bath for you, oh! I can use the um,” You ran into the bathroom looking for the product and showing it to him. “These bath salts are really calming, I use them after a hard shift at the cafe.”

“Sounds amazing, you still have some of my clothes over there right? Also tomorrow, there is a company outing, I was wondering if I could take you with me?” He asked and you nodded.

“Of course, what time is it? Just so that I know if I’ll be making it to work tomorrow,” You asked and he responded with right after your shift.

You had a morning shift that day which you were grateful for, you quickly texted your manager that you had to leave slightly early tomorrow.

“Alright love, I’ll see you when I get there,” He said and you waved goodbye.

You got up and took out two plates and placed them on the island you had in your kitchen. You then went over to the living room hooking your switch to the TV, as you never knew if he was in a mood to play. You also set up Hulu and put the controller down. You then went into your room and rummaged through your drawers looking for some clothes Giyuu had left for times like these. You set them out along with a towel inside the bathroom. Giyuu texted you that he was five minutes away and you began running the water filling up the tub and then pouring the salts in. You didn’t fill it up fully as it could get cold for him, and you would need to fill the tub up with warm water again. You heard a knock and went over checking to see who it was. It was Giyuu with his suit on, you had to admit he looked good. You let him in hugging him tightly and he wrapped his arms around you planting a kiss on your head. You held his hand as you guided him to the bathroom, you then went to turn but he called out to you.

“Do you think you’re comfortable enough to accompany me in the bath?” He asked in a soft manner not wanting to pressure you.

“Oh, is that what you want?” You asked him and he nodded.

“But, it’s fine if you’re not okay with it,” He said and you shook your head.

“No, I’m comfortable enough with you now for this, plus you had a long day at work. The only thing I request is that you close your eyes while I strip,” You told him and he nodded.

You went into your room letting him strip and took off his sweatshirt making sure to leave it on your bed as you wanted to put it on again. You then laid out your underwear and bra along with shorts and thigh-high socks. You took a towel and put it next to the bathroom, and began stripping. It honestly took you a bit longer to take off than put on due to the intricacy of the set. You took it off and wrapped yourself in the towel, making sure to put your hair up in a messy bun but making sure it still looked nice. You went into the bathroom and saw Giyuu already in the tub. You motioned for him to close his eyes which he did and you slipped in across from him.

“You can open your eyes now,” You told him and he did, looking at you with a slight pout.

“Could you maybe come closer?” He asked and you nodded coming closer to him, and he guided your back to his chest.

He hummed softly while rubbing soft circles with his thumb on your shoulder. His touch began to make you needy as you blushed shifting slightly.

“You alright petal?” He asked you and you nodded.

“Yeah sorry if I startled you,” You responded softly and Giyuu wasn’t buying it.

“You know you can tell me if something wrong, right? I would never want you to be uncomfortable with me,” He said softly and you nodded.

“Yeah, I know, Giyuu,” You said softly before closing your eyes.

You felt one hand rubbing circles on your thigh and you began to blush even more. Giyuu took notice of the change in attitude and decided to test the waters a bit. He began to rub circles on your thigh up higher and you felt him lean down.

“Am I making you needy petal?” He asked in a taunting voice.

You nodded your head too embarrassed to even speak.

“Hm, does my good girl want me to do something about it then?” He asked and you nodded again. “Use your words, I know you can.”

“Yes please, please do something Giyuu,” You choked out and you could tell he was smirking.

“No, remember when he fully talked about our agreement what you would call me?” He asked while the tips of his fingers ghosted where you wanted, no needed him the most.

“Please daddy,” You whispered out embarrassed, you could tell he was enjoying every second of this moment.

“Now, where do you want me? What do you want me to do? Come on you can tell daddy can’t you?” He asked and you felt the heat begin to pool between your thighs.

“Down there, I want you to touch me please,” You pleaded softly.

“Alright if that’s what my good girl wants,” He said.

His fingers began to teasingly rub your clit with the other hand worked on playing with your nipple. Your back arched as you let out soft whines, wanting more.

“More please, I want you to fill me up with your fingers daddy,” You whined and he groaned softly.

He slipped his middle finger in and went slowly allowing you to adjust. You began to grind against his fingers which caused him to slip another one in while using his thumb to rub your clit. You felt a coiling sensation in your stomach as you were close but he stopped.

“Come on, beg for it, beg for me to let you cum,” He said in a low tone.

“Please, I’ll do anything you want I promise, just please daddy I need it,” You whined, and that was enough to set Giyuu over the edge.

“I think you’ll be cumming on my cock then, is that alright?” He asked and you nodded desperately.

He picked your hips up adjusting your hips before teasing you with the tip. He made sure to rub it on your clit which made your hips jerk harshly. He then began to slowly enter you and bottomed out, sucking in a harsh breath. You were clenching on him tightly and he began to set a harsh pace, making sure to pay attention to your reactions. You felt him hit a spot and let out a loud moan, covering your mouth in shock.

“Who knew my innocent little maid was such a cock slut huh?” He whispered in your ear which caused you to clench down on him harder. “Oh?”

He continued to abuse your g spot making sure to rub your clit as well as he wanted to focus on your pleasure. He degraded you in your ear which pushed you off the edge and your orgasm hit you like a train. You had tears flowing down your eyes while you whined and whimpered. You continued to whimper the word daddy as well, but Giyuu continued wanting to overstimulate you. When you had finally ridden your high, you felt extremely sensitive. You mewled out softy, which only fed Giyuu’s drive causing him to be harshed with his thrust.

“Taking my cock so well pretty girl, your little cunt was made for my cock wasn’t it?” He said and you nodded feeling your orgasm work itself back up.

Giyuu’s thrusts got sloppier and he gave a few harsh thrusts before you came around him and hard. Your cunt was pulling his cock back in while he tried to slip out. Once he did he pumped his cock a few times cumming, letting out low groans. Giyuu got up wrapping a towel around his waist and then picked you up wrapping you in a towel as well and then carried you outside the bathroom.

“How about I order some food, we slip on a movie or a game you want to play and we just cuddle? You did such a good job for me (y/n), you’re always so good for me baby,” He said softly while putting you down on your bed.

You blushed and nodded, he turned to leave but you grabbed his arm.

“You did really good too, thank you, I really enjoyed that, but um could you help me change?” You asked him and he nodded.

You instructed him to turn as you slipped your bra on and his sweatshirt. You then called him over to help you slip on your underwear, shorts, and thigh-highs blushing the entire time. He then left to go to the bathroom and you got up testing the water, but your thighs were shaking. Luckily, you made your way into the bathroom and knocked, Giyuu giving you permission to enter. You hung up your towel and then waited for him, you both then made your way over to the couch and you put on an anime you both were watching together. You cuddled into him as he orderer food from your favorite restaurant while stroking your hair softly. You found yourself falling asleep to his breathing slumping against him. Giyuu kissed your forehead looking down at you in adoration. Half an hour later he heard someone knocking on the door and went to check, seeing that it was the food you two had ordered. He thanked the young man tipping him and then set the food on the counter waking you up. You stirred awake pouting but soon smiled at the smell of food. You got up waddling to the island and sat down on the stool. Giyuu and you ate while he spoke over some of the details of tomorrow’s event, you were a bit nervous. He instructed you to wear a golf skirt along with a long sleeve polo shirt and a cap to help with the sun. You nodded and then soon found yourself on your bed with Giyuu next to you asleep. When your alarm went off in the morning you noticed Giyuu was gone but he left you a note telling you that he was sorry he had to go and to check your phone. He sent you an audio message which basically consisted of him wishing you a good day at work and reminding you that he cared for you a lot. You smiled and went into the kitchen quickly making breakfast. While your breakfast was heating up, you went into your room looking for your blue maid costume as today was a blue theme with animal ears. You carefully slipped it on as it was slightly intricate and then slipped on your blue bunny ears before going into the kitchen again. You quickly gulped down your breakfast followed with tea and then brushed your teeth and washed your face. You then began your makeup routine and grabbed your bag and keys making sure you had everything before heading out the door. You made sure to send Giyuu pictures of you in your maid outfit, as he really liked this one. You got in your car and drove to work, which was a short drive. You then got out, checking in, and then starting your shift. You had honestly made a decent amount in tips alone today which made you glad, you then got a text from Giyuu saying that a driver was waiting for you but you explained you had driven your car. He told you that he would have the driver bring you back or take your car to your apartment complex. You greeted the driver with a friendly smile before getting in seeing that Giyuu had already bought you the outfit you were wearing accompanied by a note. The note was short and sweet telling you that he couldn’t wait to see you in the outfit. You saw the golf course slowly get bigger and you honestly felt nervous. What if his coworkers didn’t like you? Or worse they questioned what you did for a living? You shook off the negative thoughts as the car had already pulled up. You thanked the driver for getting out and making your way to the nearest dressing room. You quickly changed gently putting your outfit into the bag and took off the heavier parts of your makeup. You then went out and went looking for Giyuu.

“I’m sorry ma’am, are you with anyone?” A male at the front desk had asked you to which you nodded.

“Hello, I’m sorry but I’m here with Mr. Tomioka’s party?” You said in a questioning tone.

“Ah are you (y/n)?” He asked to which you nodded.

He then escorted you onto the field telling you that he would put your things in a locker. You thanked him making sure to take your keys, wallet, and phone out. He then guided you to where Giyuu was, you thanked him before making your way to him. He saw you and hugged you tightly which you returned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He held your hand and then took you over to the rest of his coworkers and their wives. You politely greeted them, with a smile and a small bow. Soon the men were off to play golf and you were left with the wives. You felt slightly self-conscious as the wives were looking at you, you then felt a small vibration between your thighs, and your eyes widened.

“So (y/n) right? What do you do for a living?” One of them asked you and you smiled.

“I’m going to university for business,” You said softly in a strained voice.

The woman nodded and ask you how you were doing in classes to which you replied well, and then you asked her for how long she was married to her husband, you heard a notification go off on your phone. You looked at it to see Giyuu saying that he missed you, and you replied that you missed him too with a frowny face. You then felt the vibrations increase and gripped the chair a little harder. The wives told you they would be drinking but you declined as you didn’t want to get drunk with them, or even drink at all. Soon you saw all the men coming into the distance and you got up brushing your skirt out. You grabbed your things and headed over to Giyuu faltering slightly as he purposely increased the vibrator to its max setting. He went over to you and hugged you tightly which you tried your best to return.

“Oh, um how did it go?” You stuttered out while blushing.

“Pretty good I almost won too,” He said and you pouted.

“Next time then, do you think we can go home? I’m slightly tired,” You said softly and he nodded.

You both said your goodbyes and you got your bag and then met up with Giyuu at the front getting into the car with him.

“Hm, you liked your little surprise petal?” Giyuu asked with a smirk.

“It was a surprise alright… it was interesting I don’t know if I would do it again, depends,” You said softly and he nodded.

You laid your head on his shoulder and he buckled you in and then himself. You felt yourself falling asleep and he held you softly, making sure not to wake you up.

#giyu #giyu x reader #giyu smut #demon slayer #demon slayer smut #one shot #ceo au #hashira smut #water hashira #kimetsu no yaiba

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juviaafullbuster · 4 years ago

Note

Gruvia + nr. 11 fluff, pretty please 🥰 love u baby 💓

Heyy love, thanks for the request! I hope you like what I came up with. Love you too!💗

Fluff - Prompt Nr. 11:

"Are you flirting with me?"

"You finally noticed?

To say she was confused would be an understatement. It wasn't the first time Juvia joined Gray on a mission, but it sure seemed different to her this time.

They were walking down a path, leading them to the destination that was mentioned on the flyer. She had linked her arm with Grays earlier, after they got off the train, and it had been that way since. Gray had yet to show any sign of discomfort. For once, he didn't push her away or told her to cut it out. Despite several people crossing their path, he didnt make any indication that he wanted her to let go. So it was quite understandable for her to be confused. Not that she was complaining, she was enjoying it very much actually, but she had to admit that it was an odd behavior for her beloved. She found herself sneaking glances at him, waiting for any of his usual reactions.

Now that Juvia thought about it, he had been acting different even before they started the mission, back at the guild hall, when he was asking her to join him. Usually she would be the one to ask him to accompany her, making sure to choose the perfect request that fits them both. This time however, it had been Gray who walked up to her, a flyer in his hand. He had scratched the back of his neck awkwardly before he held out the flyer to her.

"Look, there's this job that seems quite interesting and it pays pretty good. Want to join me?"

Juvia would be delighted to. But to her dismay, she had already promised Gajeel to accompany him and she couldn't just ditch on her best friend, not even for her beloved. When she rejected him, he looked at her like a hurt puppy. It wasn't until she explained why, that he stopped sulking. Gray went out of his way, not only pushing Levy to join Gajeel instead of her, he also ended up offering to pay him a few jewels so the dragon slayer would let her go without trouble.

She had swooned at his actions back then. He had done all that, just so she would be with him on the mission. That doesn't just happen every day so yeah, she was freaking out. But now that she was getting more aware of things, she found herself questioning why exactly Gray had been so insisting.

Juvia didn't know what the actual job was, since she didn't ask Gray yet. When she asked Mira, she only told her that it wasn't much work, simple enough for one person. This however had confused her. If this is the case, Juvia wasn't sure why Gray wanted someone to join him and her being that someone out of all people. She was certain she saw the rest of his team in the guild hall when they left earlier, which meant they had no other missions to go to. So why didn't he take one of them? Juvia shook the thought away. He had chosen here to accompany him and she sure wouldn't complain, no matter what the reason behind this was.

"Graysama?"

"Yeah?"

"You didn't tell Juvia what the mission is about.."

Gray halted and turned to look at her. She gave him a questioning look, waiting for his reply.

"Uh, well, you see.." He laughed awkwardly. "There's this new restaurant that opened up. Apperantly the food is very good, but the cook always ends up burning down something."

"So.. they need us to take out the fires?"

"Yeah, pretty much. They are installing a system that stops them automatically somehow but it takes a few days so until then they need us to do it."

"Ah, well now Juvia understands."

"Understands what?"

"Why you wanted her to come with you so badly. Juvia was wondering already. But it makes sense. Juvias water can take out the flames in no time, pretty much like your ice."

Juvia continued walking down the path, with Gray following shortly after. They walked in silence for a while before he decided to break it.

"That's not it, you know."

"Hm?"

"That's not why I wanted you to come with me."

"It's not?"

"No."

"Then why?"

Gray didn't answer right away and Juvia was starting to wonder whether he had a response when she heard him clear his throat.

"It's because I like your company."

"You do?"

"Yeah.. I mean, it's never boring with you around.."

Juvia smiled, happy with the answer. But it turns out Gray wasn't done with his answer yet.

"..and I couldn't think of anyone else I want to see in the servants uniform."

"Uniform?"

"Yeah, we're pretty much working there so we'll be getting uniforms. From what I heard the girls outfits are pretty cute ones."

"Really? Well, Juvia likes wearing dresses."

"I know.. I don't think I ever saw you not wearing a dress."

"Would you like Juvia to wear something else? If you don't like them, Juvia doesn't mind changing them.."

"No, I love them. You look beautiful in them. But you look beautiful in pretty much everything."

"Don't you think they're too covering? Cana once said that Juvia should be more revealing because this way she doesn't catch much attention."

"You catched mine. Besides I like that they're not that revealing, leaves more to anticipate. Also I don't want anyone staring at you. You can take off and reveal as much as you want when it's just us, but in public, leave the showing skin to me."

"Right, about that. You should put on your shirt my love."

She handed him the piece of clothing which she had picked up during their walk. Gray took it from here with a grateful smile.

"See? Another reason I wanted you to come along. I can always count on you to have my back or in this case, my clothes."

"Juvia doesn't want you to be cold. The weather isn't good today."

"You know I'm an ice wizard. The cold doesn't bother me."

"Still, Juvia thinks you shouldn't risk it. It is very cold today and it's probably going to get worse later."

"Are you cold?"

"Juvia is fine, her dress is thick enough to keep her warm for now."

"Alright good, but if you get cold, tell me. I don't mind warming you up."

Juvia froze in her spot, her cheeks turning awfully red. He didn't need to warm her up, she was already heating up just because of his words. Was he aware of what he sounded like? What his sentence was indicating?

Juvia started thinking over everything Gray had just said during their walk. Could she be imagining it or did he actually.. no, there's no way. This was her Gray, she was talking about. Sweet, overprotective and caring Gray who was the biggest tsundere on this earth. There was no way he was actually doing what she thinks he's doing. But on the other hand, it really does sound like..

"Graysama?"

"Hm?"

"Are you.."

"Am I.. what?"

Maybe she was just imaging it. She didn't want to make him feel awkward. But it did sound like he.. But then again, Juvia was aware of the fact that her imagination liked to run very wild. Oh, whatever, she's just going to ask him and get it over with because if she doesn't, her mind will go crazy over it all day. And they were going to spend a few more days together while on this mission.

"Gray.. Are you flirting with me?"

There was a moment of silence before Gray looked at her, a cheeky smile on his face.

"You finally noticed?"

Before Juvia realized that her entire body wa hearing up, there was already steam rising around her. She heard Gray chuckle while looking at her. He put a hand on her shoulder and used his ice magic to cool her down.

"I thought I would get to warm you up, not cool you down, you know?"

Gray barely got to remove his hand from her shoulder, before she pounced on him with full force, making them both fall back. She had the biggest smile on her face and when she looked down to him, she found a similar one decorating his.

Guess he wasn't the biggest tsundere on this earth after all. It seemed he was finally starting to be more comfortable and letting down his guard around her. Good thing she had a few more days on this mission with him to find out exactly how comfortable he was willing to get with her.

One thing Juvia was sure off. This mission would definelty be one of her all time favorites.

#gruvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #gray x juvia #fairy tail #fairy tail gray #fairy tail juvia #ft gray #ft juvia #back to writing #request

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justcallmefox89 · 4 years ago

Text

Truth or Dare Part 2

It’s Arianthi’s birthday and Diavolo has decreed she can have anything the Devildom can provide. She requests a slumber party at the House of Lamentation; her, the brothers, the angels, Solomon, Diavolo, and Barbatos. Jealousy flares between two party guests and Arianthi is the recipient of an intriguing proposition.

Written from the perspective of my female MC, Arianthi.

Some minor NSFW content and a little bit of feel good fluff - things every good sleepover should have.

I’m adding a different mood playlist to each installment of this series, just songs that I listened to while writing and feel embody each part of the story.

Jonathan Young (cover) - Every Time We Touch

Max - Puppeteer

The Struts - One Night Only

Tommee Profitt ft. Brooke - Can’t Help Falling in Love (light version, cover)

Allen Stone - Consider Me (Diavolo’s song in this installment)

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Asmo and I make our way to the living room, hand in hand, giggling and whispering. Mammon is the first one to spot us.

“Oi! Asmo get your hands off Arianthi!” He inserts himself in between us, breaking our hold on each other. He catches sight of my outfit and turns red to the tips of his ears.

“W-w-what are you wearing? You can’t be wearing stuff like that in front of all these guys!”

I sneak a sly smile to Asmo and he winks back.

“Why not Mammon? Don’t you like it? It is a sleepover after all, I’m supposed to be wearing pajamas.” I trace my fingers delicately over his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat.

Mammon’s eyes remain firmly on the floor.

“I like it you stupid human,” he mutters. “But I’m your FIRST man, why are you showing of like that in front of these guys?”

The question comes off as a needy whine and I give an internal sigh.

Mammon likes me. I know he does. He knows I know he does. But he hasn’t made a move and continually insists he couldn’t care less about me while simultaneously attempting to jealously guard me from anyone else.

Something’s going to give eventually. One way or another.

I grab Mammon’s hand. “Well then as my first man you’ll just have to keep me safe if the others get naughty, huh? You’re so strong, I know you can protect me from anything.”

Mammon raises his head, a confident smirk returning to his face. “Yeah? I mean yeah, you can count on THE great Mammon to keep you safe. You’re MY human after all.”

Asmo giggles. “So now that Mammon’s insecurities have been sufficiently addressed can I please show Arianthi off to the rest of her guests?”

“Yeah but I’m staying right beside her,” Mammon says gruffly, gripping my hand tightly.

“Whatever.” Asmo rolls his eyes and grabs my other hand, dragging me even further into the living room. “Birthday girl is finally here!”

Simeon gasps, and immediately moves to cover Luke’s eyes as he lays his eyes on my sleepover outfit.

I bite my lower lip and give him a wink. “Hi Simeon! Ready for the party?”

He nods wordlessly, cheeks blazing.

Solomon silently salutes me with a glass of Demonus, eyes greedily roving up and down my legs and over my breasts, a knowing smile on his face. I suck in a breath and fight against the urge to blush.

Solomon will not get to me, Solomon will not get to me. That one hook up at the beginning of the year meant nothing.

Fortunately I’m saved as Diavolo scoops me up into a giant hug. “Happy birthday Arianthi!”

I throw my arms around his neck and squeeze back.

“Thank you Diavolo. And thanks for talking Lucifer into having this slumber party.”

Diavolo gently sets me back down, Mammon glaring at him silently.

“Of course! A real human sleepover?! I couldn’t resist, especially since I was invited.” He gives me a boyish grin.

Barbatos appears silently at his side, a small velvet box in his hand.

“Happy birthday Arianthi.” He gives me a small nod and presses the box into my hands. “Lord Diavolo and I thought this would be a wonderful gift and reminder of your birthday in the Devildom.

“Thank you so much!” I carefully open the small box, and gasp when I see the delicate silver ring nestled in the satin lining. A large green stone gleams in the ring’s setting.

“Oh it’s beautiful!” I gasp as I slip it on the ring finger of my right hand. The stone flashes in the light, sparking green and captivating me. “Thank you so much you two!”

“That’s a rare Devildom emerald,” Diavolo says, eyes shining with affection. “Once I saw it would perfectly match your eyes I knew you it had to be yours.”

I lay a hand on Diavolo’s arm. “You are so sweet Diavolo. Thank you so much.”

Mammon jerks my hand roughly. “Let’s go say hi to everyone else.”

I throw a wave over my shoulder as we walk away. “I’ll talk to you guys later, ok?”

“She seems to like the gift my lord,” Barbatos says quietly.

“That she does,” Diavolo answers with a soft smile on his face, never taking his eyes off Arianthi as she flits around the room.

Barbatos hesitates for a moment, carefully choosing his words. “You seem quite taken with her sir.”

“I suppose I am,” Diavolo agrees. “I’ve never met anyone quite like her before.”

“You’ll miss her when she returns to the human realm,” Barbatos states matter-of-factly.

“If she returns to the human realm,” Diavolo answers softly.

Barbatos looks at the prince in shock.

Diavolo laughs. “I wouldn’t force her to stay Barbatos. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try everything I can to make sure she stays here. By my side.”

“I imagine the brothers would have quite a lot to say about that,” Barbatos murmurs, too low for his lord to hear.

We go talk to Satan and Lucifer next, Asmo having abandoned us to go flirt with Solomon. We find them next to the snack table. Lucifer takes one look at my outfit and exhales loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes.

“I’m not certain that’s entirely appropriate attire,” he says, eyes grazing across my body.

“What are you, the sleepover police? Besides, Asmo picked it out just for me!” I answer impishly, reaching out to boop his nose. “It’s alright if you like it, nobody would hold it against you for being inappropriate once in a while.”

He looks as me in shock while Satan snickers into his drink, and Mammon growls low in his throat, pulling me tighter to his side. “Don’t be getting no ideas about Arianthi.”

Satan reaches out to lightly flick one of my cat ears, a teasing smile on his lips. “I think Asmo did a wonderful job. You look quite.......tempting tonight.”

“Oi! What’d I just say?” Mammon asks in exasperation.

Satan narrows his eyes.

Before a fight can erupt Lucifer smoothly intervenes, a bottle of liquor in each hand. “In honor of your birthday I was able to procure some tequila. Belphie tells me it’s your favorite. I thought it would be a nice reminder of home.”

“Thank you Lucifer. That’s incredibly thoughtful of you,” I say, smiling at him gratefully.

He returns my smile with a soft one of his own. “A drink then?”

“Please.” I nod. Mammon is fairly vibrating with irritation next to me, so I softly squeeze his hand. He relaxes somewhat.

My greedy demon. What’s it going to take for you to admit that you’re greedy for me?

As Lucifer turns to make my drink I’m able to get my first full look at the snack table.

“Satan! Did you make all this?” I exclaim with glee. Human world pizza, nachos, cheeseburgers and a birthday cake sit alongside some of my favorite Devildom delicacies.

He gives me a casual shrug. “Luke helped a little, and Belphie helped until he fell asleep. Beel tried his best too.”

I rush forward to give him a thank you hug. “This was really nice of you Satan. You’re amazing.”

“Hey!” Mammon interrupted. “I helped keep Beel from eating everything like you told me to!”

Satan rolls his eyes as I lean against Mammon’s side.

“You’re amazing too Mammon. I knew you could do it,” I murmur.

I feel Mammon puff up with pride before he’s yanked away and I’m tightly sandwiched between the twins.

“Happy birthday!” They say at the same time.

“Mmmmm, I like this outfit Arianthi. I want to sit by you while we watch movies,” Belphie says, cuddling into my side.

“Can we eat now?” Beel asks eagerly, eyeing the snacks hungrily but waiting for my permission.

“Yes to cuddling and yes to snacks!”

I hear Mammon give a groan of exasperation behind us.

“Come on guys! I’m starting the first movie!” Levi calls.

“Ohh what did you pick?” I ask as Lucifer hands me my drink.

“10 Things I Hate About You.”

“Best. Choice. Ever.” Levi and I grin at each other.

We all take a few moments to gather snacks and refresh our drinks, before settling into watch the movie. Levi lowers the lights and presses play. I end up on the couch between Belphie and Beel, Mammon settled on the floor between my legs.

Belphie cuddles into my side, his head on my lap, cheek flush again the silk of my robe. He’s asleep moments into the movie. Beel shares his snacks and I run my hands through Mammon’s hair, the white strands slipping through my fingers like silk. In a rare moment of bravery he nuzzles his face into my thigh, dropping a few feather light kisses short of where I want to feel his mouth the most. I strangle a moan and take a sip of my drink.

Thank god Lucifer has a heavy hand with the tequila.

I twitch a little, desperately trying to ignore the growing warmth and wetness between my thighs.

I hear Mammon sniffle quietly at one of the more poignant moments of the movie and I run my hands soothingly across the back of his neck.

The movie is over all too soon and as Levi turns the lights back on we realize that Luke has fallen asleep in his armchair.

“Awwwww,” I coo over his sleeping form, brushing his blonde hair away from his forehead.

“Heh. The chihuahua couldn’t make it through one movie huh?” Mammon sidles up behind me.

Between the amount of tequila I’ve consumed, the earlier teasing kisses, and Mammon’s close proximity I feel a little dizzy. I stumble a bit, and Mammon easily catches me.

“Oi! You ok?” He asks, arms around my waist.

I shake my head to clear the haze of lust and booze. “Yeah, just tripped a bit.”

“Clumsy human,” Mammon releases me, blushing. “Almost scuffed my boots.”

Why can’t you be the bold demon who kissed my thigh during the movie all the time?

I frown and turn back to a sleeping Luke.

Maybe I’m reading Mammon wrong. Maybe I should give up.

“Hey guys, Luke’s out like a light,” I call over my shoulder to the others. “I’m going to take him up to my room so we don’t have to worry about waking him up.”

I bend down and scoop the tiny angel into my arms.

“Arianthi I can take him up for you,” Beel offers, momentarily pulling himself away from his cheeseburger.

“I’m her first man, I’ll help her,” Mammon steps forward to take Luke from me.

“I’ve got it Mammon, you can stay down here with your brothers,” Diavolo smoothly intercepts him.

Mammon opens his mouth to argue, but a glare from Lucifer shuts him down. The rest of the party guests are gawping at the scene unfolding.

Diavolo holds out his arms. “I can take him from you if you want Arianthi.”

“I don’t mind,” I say, smiling down at Luke fondly.

I’m an only child, and I’ve unofficially adopted Luke as my little brother. Taking care of him in little ways like this makes me happy.

“Well then, let’s get him to bed so we can get you back to your party,” Diavolo says softly.

We’re barely three steps out of the living room before I can hear the furious whispering begin.

Diavolo gives me a boyish shrug. “I guess this wasn’t a popular move on my part.”

I hum my agreement and begin to climb the stairs. Diavolo’s hand comes down to the small of my back, a steady presence that reminds me he won’t let me fall while I’m carrying Luke. His hand is large and warm, comforting and solid. I send him a small smile of thanks.

She looks beautiful like this, Diavolo thinks as he escorts Arianthi to her room. She looked gorgeous before, a vision of lust that threatened to consume his senses. But this, carefully carrying Luke, smiling lovingly down at him, this is pure beauty. What would she look like carrying my children like this?

Once we reach my bedroom Diavolo carefully opens the door and patiently waits while I tuck Luke in. I notice him carefully inspecting the many pictures that have accumulated along one wall while I smooth the blankets over Luke.

I bend down to give him a gentle kiss on forehead and softly whisper, “Good night.”

We slip out silently and close the door gently behind us.

I turn to Diavolo. “Thank you for helping me up the stairs, I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he answers, flashing me his famous grin.

I turn from him to head back to the living room, but he catches my hand and gently tugs me back to him. I can feel my eyes widen in shock and he releases my hand quickly.

“I’m sorry,” Diavolo says. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

I shake my head. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, just a little confused.”

This is Diavolo after all. I’ve been given overly enthusiastic hugs and the occasional pat on the head. But this touch was different. Gentle......almost seductive.

“Then may I hold your hand again?” he asks softly.

I chew my lip anxiously. Mammon.

We’ve kissed, I’ve told him I care about him, but he’s never made his feelings fully known. I’ve all but taken out a billboard saying I want him, but that idiotic tsundere refuses to make a move unless someone else shows an interest in me.

I sigh.

Diavolo.

Right in front of me, gentle, being soft and open with me. Surprising, yes. But still here.

He’s charismatic, funny, smart, handsome......... Fuck it.

I slip my hand into his much larger one and he chuckles in delight.

“Was there something you wanted to talk about Diavolo?” I kept my voice low, trying not to wake Luke.

Diavolo gently leads me further down the hall, away from my door where we can talk more freely.

“I noticed you have a bunch of pictures in the room of you and the brothers. Are you enjoying your time here in the House of Lamentation? In the Devildom?”

I nod. “I’m having an amazing time Diavolo, but you already know that from my reports. I feel like there’s something else you’re wanting to ask me.”

“Always so clever,” he says, running one large finger down my cheek. I shiver at the feeling of his skin against mine. “I noticed that most of your pictures are of you and Mammon.”

“Lucifer did assign him to be my guardian for the duration of my stay,” I answer softly.

Diavolo makes a noise of general agreement. “That he did. But there are rumors that the relationship between you and Mammon has moved beyond that. Beyond friendship even.”

I look down at the floor, debating on how to answer without sounding pathetic.

Diavolo tips my chin up with a finger, forcing me to lock eyes with him. What I see in those amber depths take my breath away. Eagerness. Lust. Uncertainty. He gazes at me intently, waiting on my answer.

“I’m asking for personal reasons, Arianthi,” Diavolo says. “Nothing in relation to the exchange program. I need to know where you stand with him. For my own sake.”

“Oh. Oh!” I exclaim once I process the full implication of what he’s saying.

“We’ve kissed before, but he’s never expressed an interest in a relationship. He only seems to have any interest in me when someone else is paying attention to me.”

I fail to keep the bitterness of my feelings from leaking into the last sentence.

Diavolo nods knowingly. “He IS the avatar of greed. That behavior aligns with his inherent nature.”

I stay silent.

Diavolo gently runs his hands up and down my arms, and I relish the feeling of his strong hands through the delicate silk of my robe.

“Arianthi, I would never force you to do something you didn’t want to. But I would ask for a chance. I’ve become quite........taken with you. I would like to get to know you better. To take you on dates. To deepen our bond.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not asking for a relationship right away, just a chance. Will you give me that?”

I hesitate, but only for a moment. Feeling the honesty and the depth of emotion in his words I nod. “Yes. I would like to get to know you better too.”

Diavolo gives me a brilliant smile. “Really?”

“Really,” I answer with a smile of my own.

Diavolo heaves a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” He pauses in thought for a moment. “Arianthi?”

“Yes?”

“May I kiss you?”

The blood rushes to my head. My stomach bottoms out. I can’t breathe, and excitement floods my veins.

Finally. A straightforward demon who knows what he wants. No games. Confident in his desires. The fact that he’s gorgeous doesn’t hurt either.

I step closer, pressing my self again him. “Please kiss me Diavolo.”

He bends down, pressing his lips to mine. Soft and full, they’re perfect. I sigh in contentment. Diavolo take the opportunity to gently tease my lips with his tongue. I open my mouth and allow him access. The minute his tongue touches mine a flash of heat rushes to my core.

This man just ruined these panties.

I fully dedicate myself to Diavolo’s kiss. I grip his jacket in my fists and press my body even closer to his, his hands coming to rest on my hips. His tongue works mine expertly, teasing and caressing.

I moan softly into his mouth, as his grip tightens on my hips and he rolls his hips against me. I feel the hard length of his erection against me, and I attempt to back him against the wall. He doesn't even budge. I feel him smile against my lips and he suddenly lifts me, pressing against me, hands roving under my robe to caress my ass.

I wrap my legs around his waist and press a series of kisses against his neck.

“Arianthi,” Diavolo breathily moans as I snap my hips against his in an attempt to feel him again, to gain more friction.

I kiss my way across his jaw and nip at his lower lip once I reach his mouth. His gasp of surprise allows me access to his mouth once again and I continue to explore him with my tongue.

After several minutes Diavolo slowly allows me to slide down his body, and gently releases me. His face is flushed, his lips rosy and swollen. He reaches over to smooth my hair back in place.

“We need to get back to your party. I’m sure they’re missing us by now,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

I giggle. “Probably so.”

He extends his hand and I take it, softly lacing our fingers together. We leisurely make our way downstairs and towards the living room, where we hear raised voices.

“Maybe we should go look for them.” Beel, worried.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Satan responds.

“They’re probably more than fine.” Asmo giggles in response.

“Shut up Asmo!” Mammon shouts. “She shouldn’t be alone with him for so long. I’m going looking for her.”

“Surely you’re not suggesting Lord Diavolo would take advantage of an exchange student, are you Mammon?” Lucifer’s tone could freeze the Devildom itself.

“We should get back in there.” Diavolo presses a soft kiss to the back of my hand before releasing me and we both rush into the living room.

“We’re back!” I say brightly, in an attempt to diffuse the obvious tension in the room.

Only Solomon and Satan seem unaffected, both wearing matching sardonic, knowing smiles.

“Finally!” Asmo exclaims, throwing his arms around me. “We were wondering where the pair of you got off to. I wonder if you two just got off myself, looking as flushed as......”

“Asmo!” I can feel my cheeks reddening.

“I expect all the details later,” he says, winking at me.

I roll my eyes in response.

Asmo grabs my hands. “I have the best idea for our next sleep over activity!”

“Yeah?” I ask, excited to hear what he has in mind.

“Since it’s a human sleepover, let’s play a human game.” Asmo pauses dramatically. “Let’s play truth or dare!”

My mouth falls open. I glance around the room, taking in everyone’s reaction.

Well this is either going to end very badly or in an orgy. Fuck it. It’s only my birthday once a year.

“Alright Asmo, get me a drink! Let’s play truth or dare!”

180 notes · View notes

sesamestreep · 4 years ago

Text

stack the deck with wild cards (chapter 2)

(read on AO3)

(start from the beginning)

SUMMARY: Jyn tries to tell Cassian about the pregnancy--and the abortion--but it’s more difficult than she thought it would be. And she was already pretty sure it was going to suck.

A/N: The next installment of the Obvious Child AU. Same warnings apply! See the AO3 links for more details! Discussions of pregnancy, abortion, and unsafe sex abound. Curate your own experience! I love you!

Jyn practically wears a hole in the floor of her apartment from pacing so much, but she does eventually find the courage to tap Cassian’s name on her phone and call him. It’s mid-afternoon on a weekday and she’s gotten precisely nothing done all day because she’s been fretting about this conversation. She tries to remind herself of Bodhi’s reassurances that Cassian will be cool about all of this, but in reality, the only thing that’s actually making her feel better is the thought of getting this part over with, so she can panic about every other aspect of this situation instead.

Cassian mercifully picks up on the second ring. “Hello?” He says, cautiously.

Somehow, despite the fact that she was very intentionally calling him on the telephone, actually hearing his voice still catches her off guard. It doesn’t help that Cassian has a really nice voice, something she’s allowed to notice without it being weird because she's an amateur musician and all. He tends to be pretty quiet in general, but he’s also been know to occasionally go off on a tangent about something he really cares about—some new thing a local politician is doing that he thinks is stupid, or one of the kids he works with doing something amazing with their life that he can’t wait to share—and Jyn somehow does not get bored of listening to him, like she normally would with anyone else who tries to talk to her about politics or children. She’s happy to blame that on the whole nice voice thing and to ignore the part of her brain that’s suggesting maybe she just likes him as a person.

“Hello?” Cassian asks again, sounding more confused this time.

“Cassian, hi,” Jyn says, finally snapping out of her reverie. “It’s Jyn.”

“Yeah, I saw the name on the screen,” he says, not unkindly, and she resists the urge to smack herself on the forehead like she’s in a cartoon.

“Sorry, I, uh, didn’t know if you’d have my number saved or not,” she says, glad he can’t see the way she’s grimacing at her own stupidity.

“Of course I do,” he replies, matter-of-factly. “What can I do for you? Is everything alright?”

Jyn panics at the question and she can’t keep the bristle out of her tone. “Why would something be wrong?”

“I just—I thought something might have happened to Bodhi,” he says, and his tone is hard to read. “You and I don’t normally talk on the phone much.”

We don’t talk much at all , Jyn thinks, petulantly, even though she’s the one who said she would call after they hooked up and then didn’t, so whose fault is it really? If she wanted them to talk more, she could have made that happen and she didn’t. And moreover, she supposes he probably would be her first call if something had happened to Bodhi. They live together after all and, beyond that, Cassian just seems like he’d be good in a crisis. She could imagine leaning on him—trusting him, that is—in a time of stress. Not now, obviously. But in a theoretical situation in an alternate universe where she hadn’t ruined whatever relationship they have or could have with her numerous issues, he’d be the guy to call, she thinks.

“Uh, no, I guess we don’t,” she admits. “Bodhi’s fine, though. So, no worries there.”

“Oh, good,” he replies, with obvious relief. “So, what do you need?”

It doesn’t sound dismissive, but she can’t see him and so she can’t be absolutely certain. Maybe he’s annoyed to hear from her after all this time. It would make sense, but the possibility of it still stings. She forces herself to push past it and keep going.

“I just wanted to tell you—” Jyn is cut off by some murmuring in the background of the call followed by some loud rustling, as if Cassian was blocking the phone’s mic. It only continues for a few seconds, before the sound on the line is clear again.

“Sorry about that, Jyn,” Cassian says, sincerely. “My co-worker needed to ask me something before our meeting and she didn’t realize I was on the phone.”

“Oh,” Jyn says, and that stops her short. She figured he was at work and that wasn’t really the ideal place for him to get this news, but she has no idea what kind of hours he works and she couldn’t bear to put it off any longer. But now, it seems like a terrible idea.

“Do you—I thought you had your own office,” she says, for all it’s a complete non-sequitur. She thought he’d at least be alone when she told him the news.

“Me?” He asks, as if she could mean anyone else. “No, it’s an open floor plan at the office. I just have a cubicle.”

“Oh,” she says again. The idea of breaking this news to Cassian when he’s in full view of his co-workers and won’t be able to process it in private suddenly feels so cruel to Jyn that she can’t even think what to say next.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, no. Not at all. I’m just—I always pictured you as having your own office. Not that I picture you—I don’t think about your work, that is. I just, when I called you, I was imagining an office, that’s all.”

“Right,” Cassian says, evenly. Jyn could sink into the floor, she’s so embarrassed. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

Jyn’s brain is going into panic mode, which is the only explanation for why she blurts out what she does. “I just wanted to know if you were free for dinner,” she practically shouts.

“Dinner?”

“Yes, dinner,” she replies, cheerily, even as the reality of what’s she’s asked hits her like a freight train. That sounds like a date, you moron , her brain shouts at her.

“Me and you?”

Jyn closes her eyes against the embarrassment she feels, both at her suggestion and at his incredulity. “Yeah, me and you,” she answers, and with her eyes shut, she can allow herself to enjoy the idea of it, of getting dinner with him. Like they’re just normal people that like each other and everything is simple.

“When?”

“Is tonight too soon?”

“I don’t have any other plans,” he says and Jyn thinks he might sound nervous. It makes her feel incredible and terrible at the same time. “Did you have somewhere in mind?”

“Um, there’s this Thai place in my neighborhood that I really like,” she says, naming the first place she can think of. Besides, if she has to have this awful conversation over dinner, it might as well be at a place she likes. “If you like Thai food, that is.”

“Yeah. Yes. That sounds great.”

“I’ll send you the address. Could you meet me for 7 o’clock?”

“I’ll have to come directly from work, but if that’s okay with you, 7 is fine.”

“Totally okay with me,” she says, absently thinking of the sweater-and-a-button-up ensembles he normally wears to work and if that’s what he’ll wear to the restaurant tonight. She wonders if he’ll have the sleeves rolled up in the way she finds stupidly attractive for no discernible reason.

“Great,” he says, brightly and then clears his throat. “I’ll see you then.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Jyn replies, and then wishes she could take it back. She always likes seeing him, but under the circumstances, it sounds so cheery and fake.

Cassian, for his part, seems caught off-guard, but he recovers fairly quickly. “I am too.”

They eventually run out of pleasant almost-sign-offs and have to actually say goodbye and hang up, which leaves Jyn in her empty apartment to continue freaking out. Why had she put this conversation off even further? Obviously, telling him at work was not a great plan, but tricking him into thinking they’re going to have a nice dinner—maybe he even thinks she was asking him out on a date—is somehow worse. The only advantage to this new plan is that he’s very unlikely to cause a scene in a public place. Then again, Jyn has a hard time imagining Cassian causing a scene anywhere. He’s so calm and collected most of the time. That bodes well for how he’ll take her news, but she can’t really be sure.

After texting him the address for the restaurant, Jyn copes with the stress of her impending dinner by trying on literally every outfit she owns, in order to figure out what to wear. It can’t be too fancy or too sexy because she needs Cassian to know it’s not a date, but she also doesn’t want to look casual or frumpy, though she doesn’t examine her motives for wanting to look good for this awkward dinner too closely. By the end of this process, most of her clothing is in a pile on her bed that she will have to clear off later in order to go to sleep—a problem for future Jyn, as always—and she’s selected a pair of black overalls that seem to be the item with the least paint on them in her entire wardrobe to wear over a cropped sweater. It’s a cute outfit that doesn’t explicitly scream “DATE NIGHT” but also doesn’t make her feel hideous, which, for all her pregnancy isn’t far along, is a hard feeling to come by, thanks to the hormones.

She picks out shoes to match and even puts on some makeup and tries to get her bangs to look normal, which kills enough time that, if she walks to the restaurant instead of being lazy and taking a cab, she might actually beat Cassian there, even though he’s aggressively early to everything. After the obligatory search for wherever she left her keys—a daily ritual for her—she sets out for the restaurant feeling only a little queasy with what she assumes are nerves.

The restaurant is busy enough for a weekday evening but Jyn only has to wait a few minutes for a table. She warns the waiter she’s expecting someone and orders an iced tea while she waits. She bobs one knee up and down furiously underneath the table, anxious for Cassian to show up and secretly wishing he won’t so she can just go home and pretend none of this is really happening. Though she tries not to, she still watches the door like a hawk, practically jumping out of her seat every time someone walks through the main entrance.

Cassian shows up at 7:02 PM, leaving Jyn very little time to freak out alone, for all it felt like an eternity. She’s watching as he comes through the door and speaks to the hostess, so she sees him run a hand through his hair in what she assumes is a nervous gesture and her throat goes very dry, both at how attractive he is and at the idea of fucking up his night like she’s about to. It’s just then that the hostess points in her direction and Cassian’s gaze lands on her, which means Jyn gets to watch as his polite but guarded look melts into something more familiar and affectionate and relieved. He’s relieved to see her , she thinks, incredulously, even as she waves at him. Did he think she would stand him up? Did he think he imagined their entire phone call?

“Hi,” he says, a little breathlessly, as he reaches the table.

Jyn stands abruptly from her seat, for lack of anything better to do and leans into him at the same moment he leans towards her. She has a brief moment of panic where she thinks he might kiss her—not that a kiss from him would be a bad thing, generally speaking, but she would feel guilty under the circumstances—and so she swerves gracelessly to the left. Her mouth collides with the side of his face as he wraps an arm around her in a loose hug and she realizes, belatedly, that she completely misjudged what he was going for. She doesn’t allow herself to linger in the embrace, even if she kind of wants to, and pulls back quickly, before she can get used to the warm weight of his hand on her back.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he says, when she’s dropped back into her seat and he’s busied himself with removing his jacket and scarf.

Jyn resists the urge to laugh at that, knowing he’s being completely earnest. He was two minutes late, that’s nothing, she wants to say, but she waves off his apology without a word.

“Did you have any trouble finding the place?” She asks, instead.

“No, not at all,” he says, as he sits across from her. “The train was just delayed.”

“As always.”

He smiles at that, leaning forward on his elbows on the table, and it makes Jyn wistful for the version of tonight where they are just out to dinner for fun. In that version, the only thing she has to be nervous about is if they’ll go home together at the end of the night. In reality, she knows there’s no chance of that happening, but some part of her longs for it. She wishes she’d called him two months ago, back when things were simple—or, at least, simpler—and asked him to this same restaurant. It could have been nice, feeling these nerves for all the good reasons instead of why she has them now.

“So, I was—”

“Have you—?”

They both speak at the same time and Cassian’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs, which is so unfairly cute that Jyn can’t even laugh in return at their shared mishap.

“You go,” he says.

“I, uh—” Jyn starts to say, but she’s interrupted by the waiter returning with her drink and asking if he can get Cassian anything.

“Just water, thank you.”

“Are you sure?” Jyn asks before she can stop herself. She doesn’t know why she thinks adding alcohol to this situation will help, but she also thinks he might want to drink once he hears her news. “It’s my treat.”

Cassian looks puzzled by this, but his features clear after a second. “I’m good, really,” he says, before turning back to the waiter. “Thank you.”

The waiter hurries off, leaving them alone again. Cassian opens his menu and begins scanning through the first section, before looking up at her with obvious concern.

“Do you already know what you’re getting?” He asks.

“Oh,” Jyn says, flattening her palm on her unopened menu. “Yes, but just because I always get the same thing here. Their pad see ew is really good.”

Cassian nods, as if this is fascinating information to him. “I’m going to have to read through the menu, unfortunately,” he says, apologetically.

She makes an exaggerated hand gesture that is meant to bat his apology away but in truth conveys absolutely nothing. “Take your time,” she says, to clarify.

Cassian reading his menu gives Jyn some time to regroup and also to note that he is, in fact, wearing a navy blue cable knit sweater over what looks to be a light blue button-up. The sleeves aren’t rolled up to his elbows, which is disappointing, but she assumes that’s because it’s freezing outside. He’s also biting his lip as he concentrates on reading, which is simultaneously very cute and completely hot. She realizes she’s been staring at him intently half a second after Cassian does.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, looking embarrassed.

“No, it’s—nothing!”

“I should be making conversation, shouldn’t I?”

“No, don’t worry about that,” Jyn says, hurriedly. It’s not like she can just tell him she was staring because he’s stupidly handsome. “I just got lost in thought for a second.”

“Do you come here often?” He asks, completely sincerely and Jyn laughs before she can stop herself.

“Sorry,” she says, when she’s regained her self-control. “That’s just such a line. I know you didn’t mean it that way, but—”

Before she can finish her sentence or Cassian can defend himself like he clearly wants to, something lands at their feet with a thump and a rattle. Cassian leans down to retrieve it and returns with one of those baby toys with different bits that all make different noises or have different textures. It’s done up entirely in bright primary colors and seems to have a smiling puppy’s head at the very top. A screech from the table behind them alerts Jyn to the item’s true owner.

Cassian twists in his chair to offer the toy back to a chunky toddler with a mop of riotous curls who’s sitting in a high chair at the next table over. “I take it this is yours,” he says, very seriously to the baby, who squawks delightedly at the sight of the toy.

The child’s mother, sitting with an older child on the other side of the table, gives Cassian a grateful smile. “Can you say ‘thank you?’” She asks in a pleasant voice. The baby just gurgles in response, leaving the woman to thank Cassian herself.

Cassian turns back to Jyn with an amused smile on his face that honestly overwhelms her. It’s rare to see him smile without a hint of self-deprecation or irony to it. If she put her mind to it, she could probably count the number of genuine smiles like that she’s seen on one hand. He’s almost always pulling them back, reining them in, for whatever reason.

“Anyway,” he says, turning his full attention back to her. “You were making fun of me for using a generic line on you.”

“I wasn’t,” Jyn says, and can’t help smiling herself. “I knew that’s not what you meant. You were really just asking if I come here often.”

“Yes, I was.”

“I do, to answer your question. It’s my favorite place for takeout, when I’m too lazy to cook, which is almost always.”

“You don’t eat in? With this ambience?” He asks, gesturing around the place.

“Hey, don’t judge their decor,” she fires back, more defensive than she would have expected herself to be. There are a million string lights everywhere, and the walls are painted a very aggressive shade of red, and the owners decorate to the nines for every single holiday, which means there’s hearts and lace and chubby Cupids wielding arrows everywhere for Valentine’s Day. “It’s fun.”

“Very,” Cassian agrees, with one of his small cryptic smiles. It makes Jyn remember with sudden clarity how fun it was to kiss him, to feel that smile against her lips.

She shakes herself out of it, focusing on the present. “I suppose your favorite restaurant is very chic and minimalist with its decor,” she says.

“No, I wouldn’t say that,” he replies, giving the matter some consideration. “Honestly, I don’t go out for dinner a lot. I prefer to cook at home.”

“Well, I’ve been to your apartment,” she says, trying not to feel inadequate by comparison. “It’s pretty chic.”

It doesn’t occur to her what she’s said until after the words are out of her mouth. She obviously just meant that she’s been over to visit Bodhi before, but when Cassian gives her a surprised look in response, she realizes she has also unwittingly brought to mind the time they hooked up. It’s not an artful segue by any means, but she does need to get this over with and stop pretending they can just sit here and have a nice meal together, like normal people.

“Actually, that reminds me,” she begins, bracing herself for how much this is going to suck, “there’s something I wanted to tell you—”

Their neighbor at the next table chooses that perfect moment to toss their horrible mutated puppy toy at Jyn’s feet again and it breaks her concentration. Cassian, who’d been watching her and listening intently a second beforehand, spots the toy on the ground and leans to pick it up again before Jyn can even think to react. Instead of just turning around and handing it over again, he actually gets up and goes over to the baby this time, crouching in front of the high chair.

“You know, if you keep throwing this around, you might lose it,” he says, very solemnly, to the child. “Somebody might kick it into the kitchen. My friend over there might accidentally take it home with her.” The baby swivels around to look at Jyn and smiles at her with drooly gums that do nothing to make her want a child of her own. She smiles weakly in response.

“Anything could happen,” Cassian continues, drawing the baby’s attention back to him. “I don’t want you to lose it. Your mother doesn’t want you to lose it. You don’t want to lose it.” He’s saying all of this with that faux-serious tone people adopt with children, as if they’re grown-ups who understand what’s going on but also with a slight sing-song lilt to it. “So, no more throwing, okay?”

The baby shrieks and reaches for the toy, which Cassian pulls just slightly out of reach, delighting the child further.

“Do we have an agreement?” He asks, holding out his hand, as if the child is a small businessman he’s making a deal with. The baby smacks a drool-soaked palm against Cassian’s in response, which makes him smile. “Very good.”

As he stands up, the child’s mother says something quietly to him, which Cassian waves off nonchalantly. He turns and drops back into his seat across from Jyn as if nothing has happened.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “You were saying…”

Jyn’s throat feels completely dry and speaking feels beyond her abilities at the moment, so she reaches for her drink before she replies. “You have a way with kids, huh?” She says, gesturing to their friends at the next table.

“Oh, that?” He asks, shrugging it off. “I guess so. I helped a lot with my sister when she was that age. My grandmother tells me I was so obsessed with babies that my parents had another kid just so I’d stop bugging them about it.”

“Huh,” Jyn says, trying to sound noncommittal while she’s panicking internally. God, of course he loves kids. Why would this be easy?

Cassian, however, is oblivious to her distress, looking back over his shoulder at the family at the next table. “I’m really excited to have a bunch of little ones running around soon,” he says, out of nowhere, and Jyn’s stomach turns over.

She’s standing before she can even form a thought. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but she knows she can’t stay here. The sudden movement draws Cassian’s attention back to her and he looks up at her in alarm.

“Jyn, are you okay?”

“I, uh,” she says, struggling for a lie that will get her out of there fast enough. “I think I left the oven on at my place, actually. So I have to go, right now.”

“Oh,” Cassian says, looking concerned and maybe even a little disappointed. “Well, I can go with you, or walk you out, if you—” He goes to put his coat on and Jyn throws her arm out to stop him, which just alarms him further.

“No need,” she says, half-frantic. She fishes her wallet out of her coat pocket and takes a few bills out, flinging them at the table in her urgency. “For my drink.”

“Oh, there’s no—”

“I’ll, uh—I’ll call you,” Jyn says, already rushing for the door. It doesn’t occur to her until she’s halfway to her apartment that she said the exact same thing the last time she ran out on him too.

#rebelcaptain #jyn erso #cassian andor #rogue one #stack the deck verse #obvious child #obvious child au #star wars #abortion #abortion tw #pregnancy #pregnancy tw #my fic #my writing #anyway here's wonderwall #otp: built on hope #otp: your mother and i have been together ever since

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ineffable-snowman · 5 years ago

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Fic: Maybe Someday

I finally finished a somewhat longer (7k) Good Omens fic. You can also read it here on AO3.

Many thanks to @tickety-boo-af, who was a super nice and helpful beta reader!

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

One Saturday afternoon, Aziraphale miracled the buttons of his vest a shade darker. Normally, he was against using miracles on clothes because he believed in tailors but it was only a minor change and it was meant as a symbol. Because he had a plan.

As far as Aziraphale knew, most humans put a lot of effort into their corporation to look nice for their, well, date. (There really was no way to still call this a “meeting” when neither Aziraphale nor Crowley had a job anymore.) Humans did it to give the other person something pleasant to look at, as Aziraphale understood. He was glad Crowley did not follow Hell’s fashion choices because he was not ready to put dirt or even worse on his face. There was no doubt what Crowley liked: black and tight-fitting clothes. But Aziraphale didn’t own any black clothes and he was pretty sure that trousers like Crowley’s would just look ridiculous on him.

Searching through his bookshop, he found some clothes from the last two centuries in a wooden chest squeezed under several books. After he had encouraged the moths and spiders to leave, he scrutinised the clothes. Most of them had moth holes and smelled a bit. But nothing a thorough miracle wouldn’t fix. He had liked the hats in the Victorian Age. But maybe not the best memories for Crowley. What about that cravat from the Sixties? Fashion had been crazy then and even Aziraphale had decided to purchase something new. But mostly he had tried to give Crowley a reason to live – because then Aziraphale had still worried that Crowley wanted to use the holy water on himself. It had been utterly frightening to find the fine balance between promising Crowley something more (but at the same time not promising too much and not too obviously) and stopping him from getting himself into even more danger.

But that was over now. And the cravat had looked a bit dashing, hadn’t it? It would be quite fitting to wear this again when Aziraphale wanted to take the next step in their Arrangement…or was it a Relationship now? He felt that it should be, but it was not, not really. Aziraphale knew what a romantic relationship looked like, he had read enough books. And the things that, according to human literature, were supposed to happen had not happened between him and Crowley.

Aziraphale had cautiously placed his hand on the table between them when they were dining at the Ritz. Crowley had not taken it. Aziraphale had lingered after Crowley had dropped him off at the bookshop and accompanied him to the door. Crowley had not kissed him goodnight.

After a few weeks of nothing happening, Aziraphale had had the sneaking suspicion that Crowley held back because of him. Maybe Crowley was trying to take things slow because he did not want to scare Aziraphale off like the last time when Aziraphale had told him that he went too fast. Aziraphale had always felt deep regret whenever he had had to stop Crowley from doing something dangerous. It had not seemed fair to stop someone from loving, of all things.

He told himself that he should be happy, and what if they were taking things slow? They had all of eternity. But there was still this nagging feeling that Crowley was holding back. It didn’t seem right after everything that had happened. Maybe it was now Aziraphale’s turn to move things forward. To grant Crowley permission. To show him that there was nothing to fear, that Aziraphale would not reject his love, ever again.

How to do it? It certainly was not Aziraphale’s strongest suit. But he had read enough to get an idea about…flirting? Courting? Dating? The words seemed terribly frivolous but then most humans would consider getting dinner together at expensive restaurants a date. So they were already doing it. Now it was up to Aziraphale to “spice things up.” Tastefully, of course.

And that is how his beloved vest ended up with miracled buttons.

When they had their next dinner date (Aziraphale had read a promising review in the newspaper about a fancy new French restaurant), he miracled the cravat clean and tied it carefully. He fretted a bit with his shirt and could not decide: Was it indecent to leave the top button open? He did not know that restaurant yet. What if they expected a certain dress code? What would Crowley think if he – well, no, Crowley certainly did not mind showing a bit of skin if his own clothing decisions were anything to go by.

Aziraphale left that button decision for later and focused on his hair first. He had decided to use a tiny bit of product to make his curls less frizzy and more defined as his barber had always suggested he do but so far Aziraphale had never seen the purpose of that. He had just finished his very careful application when he heard the familiar honk of the Bentley.

“Dear Lord, is it already time?” Aziraphale glanced at the cuckoo clock. Crowley was fashionably late as always. Aziraphale grabbed his coat, opened the top button in a desperate last minute decision and hurried outside.

Crowley was casually leaning against the Bentley, as he always did. He gave Aziraphale an intent look.

Aziraphale’s heart hammered, not only from the physical exertion. “Running a bit late,” he said with a quick nervous look to make sure no one was staring at his new outfit. He felt terribly exposed. “Please don’t make up for it by exceeding the speed limit more than is strictly necessary.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Let’s go?”

Crowley went 70mph, which Aziraphale took as a sign of goodwill on his part.

After ten minutes of silence, during which Aziraphale had to force his nervous hands down to keep them from closing the opened button, Crowley eventually asked, “What happened to your bowtie?”

“Oh, er, I thought it-it would be nice t-to try something new once in a while.”

Crowley gave him a sidelong glance. “That cravat is hardly new, is it?”

Oh, so he noticed! Aziraphale was not sure if that frightened or elated him. Somehow it was both at the same time.

The Bentley’s tyres skidded on the pavement, the car slid for some meters and Crowley hurled a very rude word at the street.

“Well, not everyone acquires new clothes every decade,” Aziraphale said reproachfully, gripping the door handle very tightly.

Fortunately they arrived at the restaurant without discorporating. Aziraphale kept nervously touching his cravat upon entering. “You don’t think it’s a bit too, well, risqué?” he said under his breath.

Crowley smirked. “We’ll see if they throw you out when they see you.”

“Oh, don’t mock me, you old serpent.” But it oddly helped calm his nerves.

No one threw him out and no one gave him funny glances for his attire. No one but Crowley. Now that they weren’t in the car anymore but seated opposite each other at the small table, Crowley looked at him all the time. Let him stare, Aziraphale told himself. I dressed up for him to look at me. He deserves this. No hiding anymore. It was exhilarating and frightening, Aziraphale’s breath was a bit quicker than usual and he was certain that Crowley noticed. But Crowley didn’t mention it. In fact, he was unusually silent. They did some weird small talk about the weather, about the menu and the wine… which Aziraphale almost spilled. Well, he did actually knock over his glass with his shaking hand but, with a quick-witted miracle, he saved the tablecloth and himself the embarrassment. Crowley noticed, of course, but he didn’t comment, just raised his brows.

Once they had their food, things went a bit smoother. The food was excellent and it made conversation easier. Aziraphale’s main dish, wild pheasant in mushroom and wine sauce, turned out to be a perfect choice, and Crowley let him try (and then offered him the bigger part of) his wonderfully glazed potatoes.

Again, Crowley did not take his hand when he placed it on the table after they had finished dessert.

When they left the restaurant, Aziraphale decided to be brave. “Could you give me a lift?” he asked, purposefully repeating the words from 1967.

Crowley stopped and turned to him. “’Course. What else would I do with -” He indicated first Aziraphale, then the Bentley. “Kidnap you?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind,” Aziraphale said lightly.

Crowley’s brows climbed up into his hairline. “How on earth am I supposed to take that?”

“Er. Probably with the knowledge that the wine has been a bit on the stronger side. Oh dear.”

“Right.” Crowley climbed into the car and waited for Aziraphale to follow. “So. Where do you want me to give you a lift to?”

Aziraphale briefly considered the notion of replying with something dramatic like, “To the stars,” but he had said and done enough foolish things for today. But then he couldn’t just say, “Back to the bookshop,” either, could he? He racked his brain. What to do at night in London?

“I was wondering, have you ever been on the London Eye?”

“Sure. ‘S nice. But I thought you hated it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You did. In a very polite but scathing way.”

“Well. I thought I could give it a try. If you were amenable, that is.”

Crowley shrugged. “Sure, why not?” He sobered up to drive them there.

Usually the London Eye closed at 20:30 but they were miraculously lucky that there was still a lovely young lady who was busy with cleanup. She agreed to let them into the VIP pod and turned the wheel on to move again. Aziraphale tipped and blessed her generously.

It was true, he had been reluctant when the London Eye had been installed, especially when he had heard that Crowley had somehow been involved. Tourist trap, disfigurement of the skyline etc. But once they were up in the air, he had to admit that the view was splendid.

“Marvellous what these humans come up with,” he said upon looking at the thousands and thousands of lights of the city below. They had seen how a small village had turned into a dirty industrial town, then a majestic imperial city, then a tourist destination. They knew all the buildings (and had met most of their builders).

“Yeah,” Crowley agreed softly. “Glad they’re still here. Would be a bit boring otherwise.”

Aziraphale turned away from the city lights to smile at Crowley. He had taken his glasses off to better enjoy the view and was leaning against the glass. At this moment Aziraphale felt like his heart could burst with love. For the world, the stars, the humans, and for this wonderful demon who had been here with him through everything.

“Yes. I am glad, too.”

For some reason the observation wheel took them on two more rounds.

“Funny, I only convinced it to go one more round,” Crowley remarked.

“Goodness. So did I.”

They exchanged a quick glance and a smile and then they enjoyed the view and each other’s company. During the next round they reminisced about the people, events and buildings they had seen during the last centuries. There had been fires, diseases, two wars, and yet nothing had ever stopped the humans from rebuilding and making things better again.

During the third round they had a heated argument about architecture. Crowley seriously argued that that horrible Gherkin was an enhancement of the city but St. Paul’s Cathedral was “not very inventive” when he knew Aziraphale had had a bit of a hand in it!

The last ten minutes they spent in companionable silence sitting very close to each other.

When Crowley dropped him off at the bookshop he wished Aziraphale a good night but still didn’t kiss him.

“Crowley, wait!” Aziraphale said urgently just before Crowley could get into the car and leave.

Crowley stopped dead and turned abruptly. “Yeah?”

“I-I-I just wanted to say.” His human heart was beating erratically again. “I really had a lovely evening. Thank you very much.” He smiled tremulously.

“It’s not like I personally caught your pheasant and cooked it.”

“No, thank goodness you didn’t.” They had never got the hang of preparing human food. Although Aziraphale had become quite experienced with tea during the years and had, once, succeeded at semi decent biscuits. “But, I believe you had a hand in the creation of the London Eye. Which was rather, er, nice.”

“Eh, I was mostly responsible for the pricing and marketing. The rest was all the humans.”

“Still. It was a lovely evening.”

Crowley made a sort of agreeing noise. “You, I mean, the – it suits, um, you – look good.”

Before Aziraphale could say anything, the car doors banged shut, the engine whined and the Bentley raced away, leaving him standing in front of his bookshop, lost for words but smiling giddily.

So the dressing up bit had been a success. Aziraphale decided to repeat it. He grew a bit more comfortable with the opened button, and asked his barber for recommendations for the best hair product. He even gave his wings a very thorough preening. One could never know what would happen.

He found that he liked dressing up for Crowley. He always felt nervous anticipation as he got ready before Crowley arrived to pick him up. That was probably what all those romance novels meant with “butterflies in one’s stomach” (which Aziraphale thought was a rather disgusting image).

He also liked it when Crowley looked at him for longer than strictly necessary although it made his insides churn at the same time. Funny, these inconsistent emotions.

Still, Crowley did not kiss him. Although his glances were so intent they almost felt physical, he had not even once touched Aziraphale purposefully. Every time they met, Aziraphale expected it to happen and was nervous and excited. Every time it did not happen, he was both relieved and disappointed. But most of all he was worried. He didn’t want Crowley to think that he wasn’t allowed. He didn’t want him to doubt Aziraphale’s love for him.

So Aziraphale did the bravest thing he had ever done, something that took even more courage than disobeying God Herself by giving the humans a flaming sword, or marching into Hell in Crowley’s body. When Crowley dropped him off this night at the bookshop, Aziraphale did not leave the car but turned to face Crowley.

“You can kiss me, you know,” he said in a very small voice. “If – if you wanted to, that is,” he added quickly. He did not want to presume anything.

“If I – what?!” Crowley’s mouth hung open.

Aziraphale expected hellfire or the holy army of angels to rain down on them but nothing whatsoever happened. It was very quiet in the car. He could feel his chest lift and fall quickly and he kept looking at Crowley, who was still gaping at him.

“What about you?” Crowley said eventually, still not looking away.

“What?” Aziraphale’s voice came out high pitched.

“Do you?”

“I’m afraid you will have to elaborate, my dear.”

Crowley finally turned away and spoke determinedly to the front window. “Do you. Want me. To… kiss you?”

“I…” Aziraphale trailed off. This was not going according to plan. And he did not have an answer to that question. Did he want Crowley to kiss him? He supposed he must. This sort of thing was supposed to happen, right? All the humans liked it, all the poets had sung its praises, so it must be good. “I-I-I wouldn’t mind,” he finally allowed.

“Right.” Crowley was still staring straight ahead. His fingers were drumming an erratic rhythm on the steering wheel. “Get out of the car!” he suddenly snapped.

Aziraphale winced in shock at the harsh tone. “I-I-I’m terribly sorry if I have overstepped any boundaries,” he was quick to apologise. “It seems I have not read the situation correctly.”

“I said,” Crowley reiterated and his voice was dark and faintly demonic, “get out of the car.”

“Crowley, please let me -”

“No.”

The door on Aziraphale’s side flew open. He gingerly stepped outside. “Well,” he said helplessly, hovering next to the car, wringing his hands, “have a lovely evening.”

Aziraphale spent the next few days brooding over how everything could have gone so terribly wrong so suddenly. They had had a perfectly fine dinner at his favourite Italian restaurant. Crowley had kept looking and sometimes even smiling at him and had offered him his tiramisu. They had reminisced about their time in Rome, and Crowley had good-naturedly mocked him (at least it had seemed good-naturedly at that time) for having tempted him with oysters.

So what had changed?

What was so horrible about the idea of a kiss?

Aziraphale had been so sure that Crowley loved him. Could he have been wrong? So maybe he did not love Aziraphale in the sense that he wanted to kiss him but was that a reason to be so offended and reject Aziraphale so rudely? Yes, it had hurt. And even worse was that he had not heard from Crowley since then. Since the averted Apocalypse they had hardly spent a week without seeing each other or at least speaking on the telephone. But no sign from Crowley for several days now.

His other idea was that it was Crowley’s usual offence when being called nice or any such thing that was not appropriate for a demon. But he had seemed free at last from those hellish expectations – or at least more relaxed (no one knew better than Aziraphale that you couldn’t just change 6000 year old habits), because there had been no more angry outbursts or even wall-slamming when Aziraphale had complimented him but he had only rolled his eyes, like he had needed to at least keep up appearances. Was insinuating that he loved just too much?

Whatever the reason, Aziraphale was deeply unhappy with the state of things. Oh, they had had much worse fights before. Aziraphale knew Crowley’s dramatic departures. He knew that Crowley could spend years or even decades sulking. But ultimately he had always come back, often to save Aziraphale’s corporation in an even more dramatic fashion. Yes, it had always been deeply touching (and also a bit exciting, if Aziraphale was entirely honest) and he did not doubt for a second that this time Crowley would come for him if he found himself in a dangerous situation. And yet, he did not want that. He did not want to spend years apart and he did not want Crowley unhappily sulking. No, he had almost lost Crowley in that blasted Apocalypse business, he was not going to let a stupid misunderstanding get in the way now. If Aziraphale had learned anything from reading and watching all the great tragedies of human literature, it was that a lot of these could have been avoided by sensible communication. (He had had a very heated discussion with Will about the ending of “Romeo and Juliet”. Will had unfortunately entirely disregarded Aziraphale’s suggestions for an alternative ending, which had led to the decision to keep his Shakespeare collection incomplete and to the steadfast refusal to ever watch that play again.)

So, communication. Humans did it all the time and they were amazingly successful considering they had such a short time. So he should be able to pull it off, too, with his millennia of experience, right?

He spent a week wondering if he should write Crowley a letter (he composed several drafts), contact him via phone (he dialled the number but always put the earpiece down at the last moment) or go to see him in person (he rehearsed every possible conversation in his head and some out loud).

Once, he thought he saw the Bentley speeding past the bookshop.

It was then that Aziraphale decided to go to see him in person. He did not put on the cravat or use hair product. His hand was shaking when he rang the bell. Crowley did not buzz him in but used the intercom.

“What?” he snapped.

“Er, hello. I – I think we need to talk.”

“Oh?”

“I think there has been a – a misunderstanding and I would really like to apologise and-”

“Right. Come in. Or – let’s go for a walk? Weather’s nice today.”

“I don’t really mind.” As long as they were together and talked this through and agreed to still be friends, Aziraphale was really fine with anything.

“Decide, angel,” Crowley’s voice came impatiently out of the intercom.

“Oh, well, then let’s head to St. James’s. The weather is rather nice, isn’t it?”

Just a few minutes later, Crowley was standing outside, hands in his pockets, looking anywhere but at Aziraphale.

“Thank you for, for agreeing to talk with me,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley just sighed but he followed him to St. James’s anyway, silent and moody and with his hands in his pockets but he was there and willing to listen and that was all that mattered for now.

Aziraphale needed three circuits through the park until he found his courage to start the actual conversation. “It seems there has been a misunderstanding because I misinterpreted certain things. I was operating under the assumption that you were interested in pursuing a…” He faltered. “A… romantic relationship. Romantic relationship in the sense of… a relationship. Not related to the Nineteenth Century, of -”

“I know what a romantic relationship is, for hea- whatever.”

“Oh, good. I mean, I’m terribly sorry that I offended you. But I’m afraid I am still not entirely sure if it was the insinuation of a, er, romantic relationship or a, a… Good Lord.” Aziraphale quickly glanced around to make sure that nobody overheard them, and lowered his voice. “A kiss. Or the, the suggestion of your capacity to love.” He cleared his throat. “So, obviously, you can rest assured that I will absolutely never mention the – the things again if any of them bother you. Although I should say that I firmly believe that you are capable of love, even though you may not be interested in a romantic relationship, because there are so many different types of love – I, as an angel, should know–“

“That’s not the point,” Crowley snapped.

“Well, then, pray tell what is the point,” Aziraphale retorted in much the same manner because he was getting a bit impatient. Communication only worked if both partners were willing to be open and honest and he felt like he was doing all the work here and was making a complete fool of himself by stammering and blabbering and talking about things widely out of his comfort zone while Crowley just sulked. “It would be jolly helpful if you could at least tell me what offended you so I can avoid it in the future.” He stopped in his tracks and stood in front of Crowley so he was forced to stop too. “You know, because I would rather like to salvage our friendship.” He relented a bit. “You are too important to me, Crowley,” he implored more softly.

Several complicated emotions flickered over Crowley’s face and Aziraphale regretted that they had not stayed at Crowley’s flat because then he could at least have seen his eyes and maybe understood a bit more. The emotions finally settled on a sneer. “Oh, so we’re friends now?”

“Please don’t be difficult,” Aziraphale admonished.

Crowley finally tore his hands out of his pockets and threw them in the air to gesticulate wildly. “Difficult, now that’s a bit rich! You are difficult, telling me to kiss you and – and talking about romantic relationships out of the blue!” He spat the word ‘romantic’ like it was an insult. Aziraphale felt insulted.

“Right.” He adjusted his bowtie and turned away to…to look at the ducks. “Oh, look, I think I haven’t seen this young swan before. Have you by any chance brought something to feed them?”

At the next moment, Crowley was shoving fruits, frozen peas, three sorts of bread and on top of all that a packet of oat flakes into Aziraphale’s arms.

“Oh. Oh, thank you.” Aziraphale balanced all the hastily miracled food in his arms and started feeding the ducks. He was ever so grateful when the ducks accepted the food that he carefully threw them with trembling hands. If Crowley could not accept what he offered, well, at least the animals were appreciative.

He heard Crowley sighing next to him. “Aziraphale, listen, I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately.”

Aziraphale sniffed. “I think I explained it all just now and I told you it was obviously a misunderstanding, so why-”

“Why do you think you have to enter into a, nrhm, romantic relationship with me?”

Aziraphale kept his eyes firmly on the ducks. He was glad he had more than enough food to keep them and himself occupied for a while. “They are not really big on love in Heaven. They say they are, of course, but it’s very different from down here. Over the years you have been very helpful and generous with me, in a way that I was not used to, and I suppose that’s why I mistook your friendship for…love. I don’t want to belittle our friendship by that because it means the world to me and I wouldn’t want to lose it, not for anything.” He felt tears prickling at his eyes. He squatted down to pet one of the older swans that knew him and was therefore trusting enough to let itself be touched. It was only a small comfort. There was a long silence until Crowley cautiously knelt down next to him. The swan startled and fluttered away. Crowley cursed loudly and thus roused even more ducks nearby.

“Sorry -” Crowley stood up hurriedly and took some steps backwards. “Sorry, didn’t mean to…”

Aziraphale turned to him. He looked lost and like he did not know what to do with his long limbs. Aziraphale took a deep breath and stood up. “I’m being silly. Bit emotional. Goodness.” He forced a chuckle. “Don’t mind me, dear.”

“Stop it.” Crowley lifted a hand, made an aborted gesture, let it fall again. “We’re still friends, of course. No need to worry. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Oh, good.” Aziraphale smiled tremulously but gratefully.

“Can I…” Crowley looked doubtful, hesitated. “How about a hot chocolate? Some pastries?”

Aziraphale felt the tears prickling again. Dear God, he was so in love. “That would be lovely.”

“Good,” Crowley said in relief, Aziraphale suggested a café nearby, and when they walked there side by side things felt almost normal again. Almost. Somehow Aziraphale still did not feel like going inside the café and sitting there between all these humans. He felt too vulnerable.

“Can we maybe just go back to the bookshop?” he asked.

“Sure, of course, yeah, why not.” Crowley paid for the chocolate and the pastries and they made their way back.

When they arrived at the bookshop Crowley was oddly hesitant and hovered in front of the door.

“Won’t you come inside?” Aziraphale asked hopefully. “I couldn’t possibly eat all the pastries by myself.”

“Oh, no, it’s good, they’re for you.” Crowley shoved them into Aziraphale’s hands.

“Ah. I see. Thank you. I’m sure they will be wonderful.”

“Yeah, sure, enjoy.” And he was gone.

Again Crowley did not seek him out for days. The days turned into weeks and not a word from him. But then one day a plain package was delivered to the bookshop. Attached was a short note in Crowley’s familiar handwriting:

Got this at an internet auction. Guess this was still missing from your collection? C.

It was an edition of Christine de Pizan’s early poems. There was even a signature. It was a very rare manuscript and a wonderful addition to his collection but the other signature – the “C.” – was so much more important. Still using the abbreviation in case the letter fell into the wrong hands.

Aziraphale rummaged through his bookshop until he found the most beautiful stationery he owned. Then he chose his favourite fountain pen to compose a reply.

My dear C.,

Thank you ever so much for that generous gift! It was such a pleasant surprise when the postman delivered the package this morning. A signed work from Christine de Pizan was indeed missing from my collection. You might remember that I, unfortunately, did not really appreciate Christine’s writing choices during her lifetime and therefore never thought to personally ask her for a signature. I’m all the more looking forward to reading her poems today.

It seems I sometimes need a bit of time to fully appreciate good things for what they are.

I was really grateful for the thoughtful gift and was very glad to hear from you again. I hope you are faring well? After spending so much time together during the last years, I find myself missing your company. Please ring me up if you are in the mood to have lunch together or just to meet up and talk.

Yours

Aziraphale

He made sure to write his full name and hoped Crowley would understand it for the gesture it was.

Maybe he did because just two days later Aziraphale’s phone rang.

“So. I was thinking of going to the Globe tomorrow. Was wondering if you wanted to come, too. They’re putting on a new production of -”

“Yes! Yes, that sounds lovely, I would absolutely love to go – sorry, I interrupted you. What production did you say they were putting on?”

“Romeo and Juliet. Still want to go?”

Aziraphale briefly hesitated. He had vowed never to see that play again. But then, it was not so much about the play but about the company. It certainly would not do to reject Crowley now that he was reaching out again. “Yes, why not?”

“I thought you didn’t like that one.”

“I thought you didn’t like the gloomy ones.”

“Ah. It’s a modern production. They could’ve changed everything, who knows.”

“Well, you know I’m not usually a fan of these modern reinterpretations but it could only improve Romeo and Juliet.”

Crowley snorted and just like that everything was easy again. They bickered over modern theatre, discussed Shakespeare’s works and reminisced about the good old times (Crowley especially missed throwing tomatoes and eggs at the stage when the play was bad).

They spent almost an hour on the phone. The only thing that struck Aziraphale as slightly odd was that Crowley did not offer to pick him up but just told Aziraphale to meet him at the Globe tomorrow afternoon at 3pm. It was fine, he told himself. At least they were going to do something together again. Small steps. It would all be fine.

They did change a few things about Romeo and Juliet, mainly it was set in modern day England and featured two young humans of opposing religious and political views falling in love. They did not change nearly enough. Aziraphale could not even stomach the pastries and the wine that Crowley brought him during the intermission. He knew it was going to end just as horribly as always and was tensing up more and more during the second part.

“You alright?” Crowley whispered just before Juliet decided to take the drugs.

“Yes, yes, totally fine,” Aziraphale sniffed and dabbed his eyes with his handkerchief.

“You want to leave?”

“Oh God, yes, please!”

He grabbed the pastries (wouldn’t do to waste perfectly good food just because of a stupid, miserable play) and, to the dismay of the humans seated around them, they hurried out of the theatre. They left just before Romeo discovered Juliet’s lifeless body.

“I really hate that one.” Aziraphale dabbed his eyes again. “I don’t see why a good writer like William Shakespeare would waste his talent on something like that.”

“You could’ve just said no, you know, didn’t have to come.”

Aziraphale decided not to point out that Crowley looked quite miserable, too, and did not ask why he had chosen to see that play in the first place. Instead he said, “Next time we go to the theatre, I pick the play.”

“Fine. As long as it’s not Winnie-the-Pooh.”

Aziraphale went on a rant to defend Winnie-the-Pooh and by the time they arrived at the Bentley, he had almost forgotten about the gloominess that was Romeo and Juliet.

“Alright.” Crowley hovered in front of the Bentley. “You want to head back or still do something else?”

“Maybe…maybe we could go for a picnic?” Aziraphale kept watching Crowley very closely. He did not want to make him uncomfortable again like with that disastrous suggestion of kissing.

“Uh, sure. St. James’s?”

“I was thinking more about heading out to the countryside.” Aziraphale would prefer some peace and quiet right now. Not the usual busy London places. No humans to worry about. “If – if that was alright with you.”

“You sure?”

“Well, yes, of course. I just suggested it, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, well, you sometimes say one thing and mean something else.”

“Ah.” Aziraphale smiled in regret. It had been their way of communication for more than 6000 years. Saying one thing, meaning another. Over the centuries they had become rather good at navigating the silent conversations that took place simultaneously, had developed their own code. It seemed that that code did not work anymore and that there were new rules now that they were free from their respective head offices. Aziraphale was determined to figure out how this new communication between them worked. He would make it work. “You are right, I did not really want to see Romeo and Juliet,” he admitted. “But I thought it would be nice to meet up again. And I’d very much like to spend some more time with you aside from that wretched play. We could also go for a stroll at St. James’s or have tea or even go to the movies if you don’t want to go for a picnic. Or just go back to the bookshop or your place to have a drink.”

“Hm, suppose I owe you one for making you sit through that stupid play. A picnic it is then. Where do you want to go?”

“Oh, how about a picnic at the beach?” Aziraphale suggested enthusiastically. The weather was nice enough for early May and he had not been to the seaside for quite some time.

“Okay. Uh. You want me to drive us there?”

“Obviously. How else do you expect me to go there? By public transport?” Aziraphale grimaced in disgust and was relieved to see Crowley grin at that.

The drive to the seaside was relaxing (as far as being driven by Crowley could ever be. To his credit, he did not go over 80mph). They did a bit of small talk to avoid getting hung up in miserable thoughts about Romeo and Juliet, greatly enjoyed the fact that the Bentley was willing to play something else than Queen’s Greatest Hits, and stopped at a little supermarket to get a bit of food and several bottles of red wine for their picnic.

When they arrived at the little beach, the sun was already getting low and it was a bit chilly. Nevertheless, Aziraphale greatly enjoyed their picnic. The wine and cheese were surprisingly good. Maybe it had been a little demonic miracle or maybe it was just that everything tasted perfect when you were having a picnic at sunset with the demon you loved. He did not really mind the wind or the sand that was getting everywhere either. Everything here felt easy, and Aziraphale chuckled fondly when Crowley tried to chase a bunch of seagulls away, who weren’t really bothered by his demonic threats.

“It’s all your fault.” Crowley flopped dramatically down next to Aziraphale. “Feeding a seagull. Really, angel. You should know better.”

“It looked very hungry,” Aziraphale said in apology and smiled down at Crowley. His limbs were spread everywhere, his chest was lifting and falling quickly because he was still out of breath and his sunglasses reflected the clouds of the evening sky. Aziraphale wondered what it would be like to run his hands through Crowley’s hair. He thought he would like that. Or sit a bit closer (after all, it was a bit chilly), their shoulders and thighs touching, maybe even holding hands. That would be nice, too. Or a kiss. Because that was a thing, wasn’t it? When you were drinking red wine at a beach at sunset with the one you loved there was meant to be a kiss, right? But he was not sure anymore if that was something Crowley wanted.

“You alright? Something on your mind?” Crowley put down his sunglasses and squinted up at Aziraphale. Always looking out for him – making sure he was comfortable, getting him his favourite food, chasing away seagulls... Aziraphale swallowed. God, he was so in love.

“Are you happy, my dear?” he asked softly.

“Huh, I – yes?”

“If there’s anything you wanted…,” Aziraphale prompted cautiously.

Crowley scrambled into a more upright position. “More of that wine.”

Aziraphale chuckled awkwardly. “Ah, yes, of course.” He handed the bottle to Crowley. He liked sharing a bottle. It was oddly intimate to put his lips where Crowley’s had been just moments before. He liked the brief, casual touching of fingers when they exchanged the bottle.

Crowley chugged down a large part of the wine. “Why -” He glared at the bottle so hard that the label crumpled in nervousness. “Why would you ever think that I’d – that I’d enjoy… kissing you against your will?”

Aziraphale froze. “What…what do you mean?”

“That’s what you were offering. Wasn’t it?” Crowley finally directed his glare at Aziraphale.

“Er, I, what? Who said it was against my will?”

“Oh, come on, you were scared shitless.”

“I really wasn’t.” Aziraphale was a bit affronted because he had felt it had been a rather brave thing to do and now Crowley was belittling him for it.

“You were. You were – were fidgeting like you were talking to Gabriel or the other fuckers.”

Aziraphale huffed in indignation. “I most certainly did not offer Gabriel or any of the other angels to kiss me.”

“Pff. Thank – Someone. My point is, I’m not – I’m – I won’t kiss you. So. You don’t have to be scared.” Crowley glared at the bottle again and it burst in his hand.

Oh. Without thinking, Aziraphale cradled Crowley’s hand that was sticky with red wine (and maybe even blood) in his hands. “Crowley, no, I’m not scared of you. Never.” He sent a quick healing miracle, just in case. “My dear, please don’t ever think that. And I’m sorry to say so but you are the least scary demon I have ever met.”

Crowley chuckled weakly. “Wow, insulting me now, that’s real low, angel.”

“Ah, well. I suppose you managed to scare the seagulls away. Eventually.”

“God, you’re such a bastard.”

Aziraphale smiled, squeezed his hand and then let go a little regretfully. He found he rather liked touching Crowley like this. But communication first. “Now, you may be right in that I was maybe a little, tiny bit nervous. But I’ll have you know it’s perfectly normal to be nervous before your first kiss.”

“Says who?” Crowley put his sunglasses back on.

“Books.”

“Aaaah.”

“Yes. Basically every love story ever. Well, every love story that features a kiss.”

“There don’t have to be, ah, kisses. This,” Crowley made a vague gesture that encompassed himself, Aziraphale, the beach, the dusky sky, the sea, “is just fine.”

“Are you sure? I’ve made you wait for so long -”

“No, no, no. It’s not – it’s not waiting, like this. It’s… good. Urgh, did I really just say that? I meant – happy. I’m happy. And I’d be happy if it was always like this. You don’t have to do anything.”

Aziraphale inhaled and exhaled slowly. He had never felt so free, so safe in his life. “I love you,” he said and the words came as easily and naturally as the waves rolling constantly onto the beach. He felt tears in his eyes, tears of relief and happiness, and he was glad it was almost dark by now so Crowley hopefully couldn’t see them and worry again.

“Y-Yeah?” Crowley croaked.

“Yes. I do. I absolutely do.” Oh, he had not known how much lighter he would feel when the weight of millennia of fear and guilt lifted from his chest! “I do, my dear,” he repeated, giddy with it that he was finally allowed to let it all out. And then, because he was feeling particularly daring, “I think I would like to try hand holding. What do you think?”

“Nmmm, yeah?”

Aziraphale offered his trembling hand, and just to be perfectly clear, he whispered, “I’m not scared.”

Crowley grabbed his hand and squeezed it so hard that Aziraphale was momentarily worried that he would break his fingers. Very slowly he rubbed little circles with his thumb on the back of Crowley’s hand to make him relax, trying to show him that he would not let go, never again.

No one said a word. They just stared into the dark sea and listened to the crashing of the waves, the cries of the seagulls and to each other’s breathing, which was eventually slowing down. Finally, Crowley’s hand in his unclenched a little. Aziraphale kept caressing circles onto it and savoured every minute. He liked that Crowley’s hand was still sticky with red wine and a little cold. In fact, now that the first excitement of the touch had worn off, Aziraphale noticed how cold it was. It was just spring and neither of them had thought to bring a coat.

“Are you cold?” Crowley asked. “You want to go back?”

“No! Absolutely not! Not cold at all!” Aziraphale said through clattering teeth. “Let’s stay.” He inched infinitesimally closer to Crowley but without actually touching. Huddling for warmth was probably a bit much as they were just figuring out hand holding. Maybe in a few months or years. Or even decades. They had all the time in the world. And hand holding was fine. In fact, it was so fine that Aziraphale never wanted to stop, no matter how much he trembled from the cold.

But then Crowley conjured up a little fire and it wasn’t only cosy and warm but also excitingly romantic. At night at the beach, hand holding in front of a fire! “Oh, that’s lovely,” Aziraphale sighed happily. “Thank you, my dear.”

“Nah. There’s a sign at the entrance of the beach that says that it’s forbidden to make camp fires here.”

“Ah, I see.” He squeezed Crowley’s hand gently. “Should I thwart you then?”

“You can try.”

“Maybe later.”

He did much later, in the next morning when the first humans came to the beach for jogging and walking their dogs. It was time for them to leave and go back to London. Aziraphale’s limbs were cold and stiff when he extinguished the fire, collected the empty wine bottles and leftover food (and he almost had a cramp in his left hand). But he couldn’t have been happier. The Bentley graciously played them piano preludes from Debussy when Crowley drove them almost slowly through the countryside.

They stopped at a little café to warm up with hot drinks. When Aziraphale put his hand on the table, Crowley’s own inched closer until their fingertips touched, like a silent question, and Aziraphale turned his hand open to welcome him.

#good omens fic #Aziraphale #crowley #Ineffable Husbands

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copias-thrall · 5 years ago

Note

Do you have any headcanons for the papas and copia having a stripper s/o?

Hello, anon! I had to ruminate on this one, but let’s jump in, shall we?

Papa Nihil - Is no stranger to a sinuous wiggle or skimpy dress on a dancer, but it takes some patient explaining on your end the difference between your job and the Go-Go dancers he hung out with in the 60s. Despite being the Senior Clergy, Nihil isn’t very authoritative (let’s be honest Sister Imperator is the one in charge), so if you want to get anywhere, you’re going to have to drive that initiative. If you wear your costumes around him, he’s inclined to pinch your ass with a rude noise, but you find he’s all bark and no bite—any time you turn his lecherous overtures back at him, he backs off and gets all fidgety. You tried to give him a private show once: about a quarter of way through, he asked you to stop, face red from embarrassment. He stressed that he wasn’t one of your customers and you didn’t have to be “On” for him. The man is like teflon for seduction. He’s all too happy to spend a Sunday afternoon reading to you from his lore books and showing you cat videos on YouTube. His only reservation with your job was that he thought the club you worked out was way too sketchy. With the church connections he was able to get you a position at an upscale establishment. You’re annoyed he didn’t ask you first—all your friends are at that club!—but you can’t deny the extra safety of the new place and a certain prestige that’s been associated with you through the rumor mill.

Papa I - Telling I that you’re a stripper is like telling him you sell insurance; to him a job is a job—though he does see yours as a way you honor the teachings of the Church, so he approves on principle. He’d never outright ask you for a private show, but he wouldn’t stop you if you were to perform for him (it’s just how you honor the Church, right?). You make it your personal mission to ruffle this stoic man’s feathers—you’ll keep the heat up in his quarters so you can prance around in your skimpy outfits and so he’ll be obliged to take off a robe or two; lap dances tend to make him flustered, a fact that you enjoy exploiting by always sitting in his lap when he’s trying to read you scripture. He’s always reverent when touching your body to the point that you’re often rolling your eyes and placing his hands where you want them. If you want anything done, you’re going to have to do it yourself, since he’s quite content to shuffle through his paperwork while you practice your routines. More than once you’ve crawled over to him on hands and knees to warm his cock and instead you’ve found yourself on the receiving end of one of his ideology thought experiments, one he’d like to incorporate into a sermon. It’s actually kind of a refreshing change to have a partner who doesn’t have any preconceived notions about who you are based on your job, and you find yourself engaging with him often over the Church theology.

Papa II - Your occupation is literally the reason you met. You walked in on him snorting blow off your coworker’s ass in the backroom of the strip club. You were about to apologize and hightail it out of there, but he caught your gaze and it was as if he saw right to your very core. He basically whisked you away to the Church that very night (well, you spent about a week on the tour bus fending off the band Ghouls, but you were on your way to the Church). II has devoted himself singularly to helping you reframe your experience as a stripper into an expression of Church teachings. He’s so devoted that he even had a pole installed in his private rooms so you’d have a place to practice your routines free of distractions from the other Sibling and the Ghouls. He’s magnanimous enough to always insistent that you use him to hone your lap dance technique. Intellectually you know you should be feeling kept, but he makes you feel sexy and that there must be something special about you for this high-powered man to have singled you out. You continue to let him think that it’s you—and not him—that is wrapped around a little finger. The only thing you need to be careful of is his possessive streak. People at the club who get aggressively handsy have the tendency to disappear …

Papa III - You would think he’d be annoying about it, but he’s the last one who would fetishize your occupation. Don’t get him wrong, though!—he loves to put your body isolation techniques to the test when you’re in bed together. Sure, you’ve done the odd seduction strip for him, but you’re more likely to find him trying to strip for you. And he’s. Well, he’s terrible at it. So bad. There’s a reason his signature move is a mummy thrust. The man is all jerky boxes and no sinuous curves when he tries to do a wiggle. And he’s made it his mission to find and wear the most ridiculous “sexy” costumes for you. The last one was “Sexy Finding Nemo” with coordinated face paint. It always makes you laugh and that’s really all he’s going for. He knows intimately how physically demanding performing is and can only imagine how mentally taxing dealing with customers is. Outside of sexy times, he’s happy to slip into something comfortable (and expensive—the man likes his thread counts) and read you [dirty] poetry. In your past, others have been aggressively condescending about your safety, but III trusts that you can take care of yourself. And if you thought you saw a Ghoul out of the corner of your eye one night as you were leaving the club late, you can admit it if feels nice to be cared for.

Copia - He’s always looking at you like a [sex] bomb that might explode. For all his own lechery on stage, he’s nervous to treat you like some of his fans treat him. Don’t they understand it’s just a performance? He tends to overcompensate by doing activities with you that he feels are far removed from your occupation: a picnic; stargazing; the Church’s box seats at the opera … On one memorable occasion he took you to a vaudeville show and was flustered when the burlesque dancers came out; he was stammering and apologetic the whole time, and you had to shush him so that you could admire their techniques. The worst part for him is that he does find it alluring that you get on stage and perform titillation with your fit body for a crowd. He’s something of a voyeur and you’ll often see him at your club in a dark corner. Just. Watching. He never approaches you when you’re working, but you always feel the weight of his attention on you. It makes for some steamy dirty talk as he urges you to confess your “sins” for his absolution. Despite his devotion to the Church—and his studious academy—he never wants to discuss his work with you. At first you were insecure that maybe he thought it over your head, but he soon explained that when he’s with you he’d rather the two of you just enjoy each other; he spends quite enough of his time mired in theology, he’d much rather talk to you about Anything Else, thankyouverymuch.

#asks #headcanons #no real thirst tbh #apologies #papa nihil #papa i #papa ii #papa emeritus iii #cardinal copia #gender neutral

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gimmeyoon · 5 years ago

Text

Slayer: Only Human

✰ pairing: human!Jin x Slayer!reader

✰ setting: Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU

✰ word count: 4.5k

✰ warnings: explicit language, violence, underage drinking, angst as always

✰ summary: ❝Being the Slayer is not how you imagined spending your life, let alone your first year in college. You try to keep it together, but when an empath demon rolls into town you can’t help but vent to him. Now he knows exactly what makes the Slayer tick.❞

✰ A/N: hey listen, I know you crazy kids want Jin smut. And because I’m a loving and kind human, you will get just that. Just not until my beetlejuice fic comes out on Halloween. Enjoy this mostly SFW installment of Slayer until then.

Prev | Next

"Come on in, Join the fun, we're the girls of beta tau," Jimin cheered as you exited the large classroom where your sorority had just held chapter. "Wisdom, grace, and kindness, we're the girls of BTS, hey hey, I'm glad I'm in Beta Tau-"

"Shut up," you said, elbowing him in the side just as a few of the girls in your sorority walked by laughing at his antics.

"Well that certainly wasn't the display of kindness you'd expect from a Beta Tau girl," Jimin said, wincing as he stood now doubled over.

"Yeah, well I just got horrible news."

"What?" Jimin asked, his face growing serious as he walked out of the building with you. "Is the world ending again?"

"No," you sighed, pulling your jacket tighter around your body as you walked into the cool spring night. "But honestly it would be a little bit easier if it did. At least I wouldn't show up alone at the end of the world."

Jimin's brow furrowed as he stopped dead in his tracks. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

You let out an exasperated huff as you turned to face him, pouting. "I forgot we had our formal this weekend and I never found a date."

"Well if that's not the end of the world then I don't know what is," Jimin teased as he pulled you into a side hug. "Is this your way of asking me, _____? Is it okay if we go as just friends?"

"We'll be enemies in a second if you don't stop," you said shrugging his arm off of your shoulders. "Seriously, I'm going to look like an even bigger loser than they already think I am."

"Who cares what they think?" Jimin asked as you began walking again.

"I do," you insisted. "I only joined this sorority so I could try and make some normal friends and I'm too busy with the abnormal to actually do anything with them."

"I mean I feel like being the chosen one is a little bit better than being a Beta Tau girl," Jimin said with a shrug. "Plus, you have plenty of friends."

"It's a fucking sausage party," you said, rolling your eyes.

"I thought we were talking about your formal. No one said anything about having to fuck sausages."

"I will literally turn around and walk as far in the other direction as I can."

Jimin smiled widely as he knocked his shoulder against yours. "You can't get away from me that easily."

"I know I've tried," you said, fighting back a smile.

"Seriously though, all of your friends are guys, just ask any of us. Personally, I am always ready to get down."

"Don't we all know," you said, this time allowing a smile to break across your face. "Is it horrible to want to actually like the guy I invite?"

"No," Jimin said, shaking his head. "I think it's probably one of the most normal problems you've had to deal with in recent history."

"The last guy I liked turned out to be a demon, so it's not going great."

"You could always ask Taehyung," Jimin suggest, earning a hurried head shake from you.

"He's still doing that fun thing where he completely doesn't understand human interaction. Plus, the whole, let's murder all of your friends thing really killed whatever feelings I might have had for him."

"Awh, you do like me," Jimin teased, pulling you into his side again.

"Don't let it go to your head."

"Sorry I couldn't be hunkier for you," Jimin said, sighing dramatically.

You laughed in response lightly hitting him on the chest as you shook your head. Of course Jimin was good looking and you knew for a fact at least a few of your sorority sisters would be jealous to see him arrive with you, but that wasn't the point. The reason you selfishly wanted to go to this formal with a boy that you actually had a crush on was because that's what most of the other girls would be doing. A part of you wanted to prove to them that you weren't the weird outsider you feared they saw you as. You were just like them and if they had the chance to get to know you they would see that.

You were just like them.

Right hook and then left. You keep advancing forward, sending the vampire backwards until he bumps into a tombstone, stopping him in his tracks. He goes to move away, realizing just a moment too late that he is cornered.

You quickly stake him in the chest before turning to deal with his friend. You think she must have made him, because she's harder to fight. You taste metal as she smacks your head against a tombstone and quickly roll out of the way and to your feet before she can finish you off.

She pounces in your direction, but you're quicker this time, kicking her square in the gut, causing her to double over just long enough for you to stake her through in the back.

Your yourself double over as she turns to dust, catching your breath and wiping the blood from the corner of your mouth.

"I swear to god if this isn't healed by formal, I will find a way to resurrect her from the dead just to kill her again."

When you turn around to leave, you see Yoongi leaned up against a tombstone, a small smile on his face.

“Enjoy the show?”

“Very much so,” he said, falling step with you as you walk by. “My favorite actress stars in it.”

“Is that so?”

He hums in agreement.

“Hey,” you said, turning to face him. “how old are you?”

His smile widens at this. “Isn’t that a rude question?”

“Maybe,” you contemplated as you kept walking. “I guess I’m just wondering what kind of events you would have gone to as a human.”

“Why the sudden interest in my former human social life?” he asked, bumping his shoulder against yours.

“I have a formal this weekend,” you admitted. “I guess I was wondering if you ever went to any stupid balls or something.”

He looked at you with a furrowed brow as if he was trying to see you better. “You don’t want to go?”

“No, I do, I just-“ you started to walk away, frustrated that you couldn’t explain yourself well.

Yoongi reached out and grabbed your arm, stopping you. “I never went to any balls, as you called them. My father was a farmer.”

“Would you have wanted to go?” you asked, turning to face him.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve been to many as a vampire, and I find them taxing.”

“Of course you do,” you laughed as you continue to walk back to your apartment.

"Did I say something?" Yoongi asked, following behind you.

"No, I'm just being very human recently."

"You are human."

You sighed. "It certainly doesn't feel that way."

Yoongi looked at you with the sort of seriousness Namjoon sometimes had and something in that look hurt more than you expected. Yoongi never looked at you like that; he always seemed to believe you could do anything. Now, there was something about this that seemed like he wasn't so sure.

"I gotta get going," you said motioning in the direction of your apartment. "Goodnight, Yoongi."

"I can walk you-"

"No," you said a little too forcefully. "I just want a moment to clear my head."

Yoongi nodded his head, the look on his face growing more serious. "Okay."

You wondered for a moment, as you walked away, if Yoongi would ask you to stop. If he would insist on walking with you.

But he didn't.

You weren't sure why you wanted that or what it would mean if he did. But for a moment you wished that he would run up and stop you and he would tell you everything would be okay and that formals were a stupid human thing that didn't matter when you considered the fact that you stopped the world from ending once.

But he didn't. And of course he didn't, because you told him not to.

Stupid human.

You've shoved yourself into so many different variations of polyester, satin, and tulle that you're starting to this the whole endeavor was pointless. Just as you had waited too long to find a date you had probably waited too long to find a dress as well.

Currently you’re zipping up a satin dress, one that's low cut with a slit up the thigh as well. You had been gravitating towards pieces that made you feel sexy in the hopes that you could at least feel hot at the dance even though you were sure to be constantly reminded of your future alone.

You open the door of the dressing room and walk to the communal mirror outside, where Jungkook and Jimin are waiting for you. You look at yourself in the mirror for a few moments, ignoring the boys until you're certain how you feel about the dress yourself.

"Well?" you asked, turning to Jungkook. The werewolf's eyes are wide when you meet them. "Are you okay?" you asked, causing Jungkook to nod his head quickly.

"It's good," he said, still nodding his head.

"You look hot," Jimin said, causing you to turn towards him.

You take a few steps forward and pull the dress up just enough to reveal the knife strapped to your thigh.

“What?" you said innocently, as Jimin raised an eyebrow at you. "An outfit is nothing without its accessories."

"I always considered you more of a gold girl," Jimin said, a smirk on his lips as he motioned to the silver blade.

"While gold might be better for my complexion," you said, before hiding the knife again, "silver's the only thing that keeps that puppy down."

"I didn't do anything," Jungkook insisted, standing from his seat.

"I'm just kidding, Kook," you said, Jimin and you laughing lightly at his intense reaction. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"You didn't hurt my feelings," he grumbled as he shifted his weight.

"I'll take the dog for a walk," Jimin said joining Jungkook, "and you buy that dress so I can have the hottest date at the formal."

"Well if you insist," you said, walking back to the dressing room.

As Jimin and Jungkook walked towards the store entrance you just barely heard the younger pouting, "You know dog jokes are actually really offensive."

"I don't really understand the point of this dance," Namjoon said, coming out of the stacks to join you at your usual table in the library. "You said every sorority and fraternity on campus does this?"

"Namjoon, I cannot keep explaining to you that where there is a will, there is a way, and Greek Life will never turn down a chance to drink and party."

"Yes, but why is it so stressful if the whole point is to have fun?"

You stared back at him, stumped by both the simplicity of his question and the fact that you did not have an answer for him. "Maybe it's just me who's stressed."

"No, I heard one of the girl's in my class complaining about it as well," Namjoon said passing you the book he had gone searching for.

"Of the great unknown," you said reading the cover.

"Homework," he said, pulling out the seat across from you and sitting down. "All seems to be quiet right now, so you can catch up on your studies."

"You do remember that I have a major event this weekend right? One that I won't shut up about?"

Namjoon laughed at this, his dimples appearing as he broke into a wide smile. "Yes, I do recall such an event."

"So, you realize there's no way I'm reading this."

"I'll pretend you didn't say that," Namjoon said shaking his head, as he pulled his own book out of his backpack. He looked up at you over his glasses as he sat the book down on the table. "Well," he said, motioning towards your book.

"Oh, we're starting now," you said, opening the book in front of you. "Always straight to business."

"It is my job," Namjoon said, his eyes beginning to scan the pages of his book.

Namjoon always looks right at home with a book. As he pushes his glass further up his nose bridge, you fight off a smile as you return your attention back to your own book. You might not be interested in learning more about whatever this old dead man found in the great unknown, but at least you'd get to spend a few more moments with Namjoon in the peace and quiet of the library.

Jimin was right, you did look hot in the dress. Objectively you could see that. So why did you feel like the ugly duckling as you paint your face?

You keep thinking about the other girl's in your sorority. They, no doubt, have gotten together with some of the girls to get ready together. To blast a girl power playlist and compliment each other until they all felt like goddess and then they would meet up with their dates and get plastered before the event. You didn't know any of them well enough to expect an invite and inviting them to your own apartment had the dangerous possibility of resulting in at best the reveal of the supernatural and at worst, death.

So you threw your own pity party, imagining what kind of advice your friends might give you tonight, or how they would compliment your lipstick. You played your own girl power playlist for a moment, but the realization that it didn't make you happy actually made you sadder. You had switched it to your training playlist. Sure it was meant to get you in the mood to slay vampires and demons, but it was helping to combat your metaphorical demons at the moment.

You're almost ready when you hear a knock at your door. Jimin is early which is very unlike him, so you yell that you'll be there in a moment while frantically trying to get your shoes on.

"How very punctual of you," you said with a smile as you opened the door, only to feel your face drop as you realized it wasn't Jimin at your door.

Seokjin smiled lightly as he presented you with a bouquet of peonies that matched the light pink of his blazer. “I don’t know if you consider me a step up from Jimin, but at least no one in your sorority knows me.”

"Hi," you said as you took the bouquet from him. "You look nice."

"I always look nice," he said, dramatically sweeping his hair back. "Tonight, I've reached my final from."

"How very "gotta catch them all" of you."

"Don't worry, I have only one catch on my mind tonight. I'll let the other dates keep their sorority girls."

"That's so kind of you," you said, shutting your apartment door behind you after depositing the flowers on the counter.

He smiled. "You could call it community service, it wouldn't be a stretch."

“Thank you,” you finally said as you walked to the sorority house. “You didn’t have to do this, I was being stupid about this for no reason.”

“It matters to you, so it’s not stupid.”

"I'm a little bit mortified that you even know about this. I mean this confirms my suspicion that the gang is gossiping about me behind my back."

"I wouldn’t call it gossiping exactly," Jin said with a light laugh. "It was more like Jungkook and Jimin asked me to help them study and Jungkook spent the whole time whining about Jimin assuming he would be your date."

"As if Jungkook would ever be caught dead at a function where he knows absolutely no one and has to put on a suit."

"That is almost verbatim what Jimin said."

You laugh at this, throwing your head back in delight. "I think that's the proof that we spend too much time together."

"Add giving you a break from Jimin to the list of good deeds I did tonight then."

"Oh it was already noted," you said, opening the door to your sorority house and ushering Jin in.

"_____!" One of your sisters, Soyeon cheered as you entered the house. "We were just about to take pictures, come join."

"This face was made to be photographed," Jin whispered as you joined the others on the stairs.

Nearly too many photos, a couple of shots, and a few awkward moments outside of what seems to be the main group of people later, you and Jin find yourselves on the bus to the hotel where the formal is being held.

You're a little surprised by how comfortable it feels just talking to Jin all night. Despite living next to each other and occasionally saving him from the forces from darkness, you and Jin have never spent extended periods of time just the two of you. He's usually so busy with his TA duties during the day and at night, while he's joined you on a patrol once or twice, it has almost always nearly cost him his life.

But he makes you feel at ease on the way to the formal, sharing little jokes with you and only you and for the first time in a while making it feel like you are an insider in this place. It doesn't hurt that you keep seeing your sisters looking at him with jealousy. You understand, perhaps more than you'd like to admit. Jin looks better than most of the other men on the bus.

"What do you think," Jin asked as you entered the main ball room. "Should I show my legal I.D. to the bartender and get us some drinks or should we stuff our faces at the buffet first?"

"I'm thinking team work," you replied. "You grab the drinks, I grab the food, and we meet in the middle at a table."

"I like the way you think," Jin said with a wink before making his way to the bar.

On your way to the buffet in the opposite direction, Momo stopped you.

"_____, right?" she said with a smile. "You and your boyfriend are really cute."

"Oh, Jin's not my boyfriend," you said a bit more quickly thank you would have liked, as Momo's eyes widened at the intensity of it.

"Oh, sorry I didn't mean to assume," she said, holding her hands up as if in surrender.

"No it's okay," you said, grabbing a plate from the buffet just as Momo took one from the other side.

"Honestly, I think more than a few people will be relieved to hear he's single," Momo laughed. "Myself included."

"Oh, don't tell him that. We don't need Jin to get an even bigger ego."

"I won't tell if you don't," Momo said before the two of you parted ways.

You find Jin sitting at a table in the middle of the room, smiling happily as he raises a glass to you. "All the drinks were themed, so I went for the one with the coolest name," he said.

"And that was?" you asked, passing his plate to him.

"The Marilyn Mon-oh no," he said, laughing before he could even finish saying the name.

You laughed along with him. "It sounds like my liver might regret this."

"Hey," he said, turning to you with a composed look. "Do you have a high tolerance?"

"Why? Want to know if I'm going to be a cheap date?"

"No," he said, smiling. "I'm just curious. I mean you heal quickly and are pretty much indestructible-"

"Oh, I am very much destructible,"

"So does that also effect how much alcohol it takes to get you drunk?"

"Yes," you said as you took a sip of the white colored cocktail. "Good thing it's an open bar."

"Interesting," he said, leaning back in his seat and looking off in the distance for a moment, before quickly turning back to you. "What else is effected?"

"Can we pretend I'm not the Slayer tonight?"

"Of course," Jin said, turning back to his food. "Just two very average humans enjoying an unnecessarily formal events."

"Everyone here thinks you're an above average human."

"As they should," Jin said with a wink.

"See anyone you like," you asked leaning in closer to Jin. "I can pretty much confirm that no one here is a demon."

"No, no, no," Jin said waving you off. "Tonight you're the only girl I see."

You try and fight the blush you feel spreading across your face, and take a sip of your drink to try and shake the way he's looking at you.

"Do you dance?" Jin asked, motioning towards the middle of the ballroom where a few couples have already made their way to the dance floor.

"Namjoon would say every fight is but a dance," you said, laughing lightly.

"Excuse me," Jin said turning to you with a serious look. "I'm pretty sure we agreed you're not the Slayer tonight."

"My mistake," you said, shaking your head. "Yes, I believe this very average girl does dance. Especially after a few more cocktails."

"Then a few more cocktails we shall have," he said, standing from his seat and making his way back to the bar.

It almost feels wrong how easily the night progresses. You and Jin have those drinks and even after making your way to the dance floor, you still can't fight the feeling that a demon should come crashing through the ceiling or a vampire will begin his feast on the floor. But it doesn't happen.

It's almost as if the forces of evil respect every girl's right to putting on a fancy dress and dancing the night away.

How kind of them.

"I don't think I've smiled this much in a while," you said as Jin finished his most recent interpretive dance.

"Good," he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you into him as a slow song began to play. "Then I've done my job."

"Thank you," you said, leaning your head against his shoulder as you swayed to the music.

"Thank you," he replied. "You know for saving the world all the time."

"All in a day's work."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I know I'm more of a liability to the gang than I am an asset-"

"That's not true,"

"but I figured if I could make you happy tonight. If we could dance and eat and drink and pretend that nothing waited out in the night, then maybe I did my job."

You lean back to look at him, feeling moved by the serious look on his face. "You did a great job saving my world tonight."

"Maybe I'm the chosen one," he said wiggling his eyebrows.

"I wouldn't go that far," you laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder again.

By the time you and Jin are walking back to your apartment building, you with your shoes in your hand, something Jin spent minutes ranting about, you feel the most relaxed you have in a long time.

"You know, if you wanted to help us out more you could," you said, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. "Namjoon could train you for combat and I'm sure you would be good at helping him research."

"Yeah?" Jin asked, seeming to ponder that for a moment. "I might reach out to Namjoon then. And by reach out, I mean the next time I see him in the library I'll sit at the same table."

"Is he really always there?"

"At least whenever I am."

"I guess one of us has to be," you said, shrugging.

Jin bowed dramatically as he opened the door to the building for you, stumbling a little in his intoxication.

"Thank you, kind sir," you said with a laugh, stepping into the building, Jin following close behind you.

"Of course," Jin said, falling in step with you again. "I am nothing if not a gentlemen."

"Oh, of course," you laughed pressing the button in the elevator for your floor.

The two of you rode up to your floor in silence, both of you occasionally looking between each other and trying to fight back laughter.

"I believe this is your's," Jin said after the two of you walked down the hallway to your apartment.

"Why yes, I do believe it is," you said with a wide smile.

"I had fun tonight," Jin said, taking your hand in his and placing a light kiss to the back of it.

You felt your ears burn as he looked back up at you with a small smile. You're not sure if it's the way his hold on your hand lingers or the gratitude you feel for him helping you have fun tonight, but soon you're taking the few steps between the two of you and pressing your body to his, your free hand coming up lightly behind his neck. You lean in slowly, a bit fearful of his reaction, but he meets your lips in the middle and the world seems to slow as you kiss him.

For a moment you wonder if a simple thank you would have been enough to show your gratitude, but as his hand comes up to rest on your hip, you melt further into him, happy to blame the alcohol tomorrow for your behavior.

As you pull away, Jin seems to look at you with a new understanding, his eyes searching your face as you step back towards your apartment.

"Goodnight, Jin. Thanks for everything."

"Yeah," he said, shaking his head as if to clear an etch-a-sketch. "Goodnight, _____."

That night as you slip out of your dress, clean your face, and slip into bed, you wonder if this is the life you would have had if you weren't the Slayer. If you would kiss the boys that took you to parties and feel butterflies in your stomach as you replayed through the great night you had.

No, you think. Because you wouldn't have been such good friends with Jin if you weren't the Slayer. He would be the TA you lived next door to.

You would never get to laugh about punny drink names and his interpretive dancing. You would never place bets on who was going to be the first to vomit or dance under the faux starlight of the ballroom.

Maybe being the Slayer wasn't as bad as you had once thought. It had helped to create friendships you never would have dreamed of. It had brought all of you closer through your mutual quest to stop the forces of evil.

Ot at least in Jin's case, your mutual quest to try and survive the forces of evil.

Yes, you thought. You could get used to being the Slayer if it meant you would always have the Scooby gang by your side.

And if anyone tried to take them from you.

They didn't call you the Slayer for nothing.

#Jin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin smut #bts smut #magicshopnet #seokjin fanfic #seokjin smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan smut #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts writing

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hardforbenhardy · 5 years ago

Text

somebody to love pt.3 | rogerxreader

warnings: drinking, violence, bit of angst

word count: 4.8k (oops)

the third instalment of somebody to love- we are finally getting some proper content of roger and readerrrr yayyy!! :)

taglist: @jennyggggrrr

Once we reached the shop, you immediately fell in love with the colours and materials that were scattered around the room. Freddie and yourself spent about 2 hours trailing clothes in and out of the changing rooms, attempting to find something that wouldn't make you look like you just got out of bed and rolled up at a bar. Let's just say, you were unsuccessful. You sat in the guest seat which was placed in the corner of the rather large changing room, slouching against the back as you sigh heavily; Fred had gone to look for something you had yet to try on, which you were convinced is absolutely nothing at this point, and he hasn't yet returned after 5 minutes. You were beginning to think there is absolutely no hope for you anymore. That is until Freddie comes bursting in through the door, with an item you could barely make out considering his movements were extremely energetic. "Love, I think I've found it"

"It? You really think so?" you squealed, jumping out of the seat and rushing over to Freddie to see the outfit which was apparently so amazing. Looking in Freddie's hand, you saw a small black dress - if you could even call it that - draped on the arms of the hanger. It was a skimpy, leather, low cut, cami dress featuring lace detailing at the cups with hook and eye fastening detail - it was nice you couldn't deny it; it's just not something you'd pick out. Ever. "Fred, you've got to be joking!"

"What love, it's gorgeous - you can't deny!"

"Yes it is. But do I really seem like the type of girl who would wear something like... that?" you sighed, rolling your eyes at Freddie's lack of awareness. "Don't you think it's a little too much? Or should I say too little, considering there's barely any fucking material on there!"

"Come on darling, at least try it on. Then, and only then, will you have the right to say no." He encouraged, already beginning to slide the straps down the hanger before handing the material, or lack thereof, over to you. You snatch it from his grasp, sighing heavily before going to pull the shirt you had slipped on earlier over your head. Hearing Freddie squeal in excitement from behind you, you shot him a quick glare and gestures for him to leave so you could change. Once you had slipped the dress on, which proved more difficult than you originally imagined, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. You didn't look that bad.

"See darling, I told you you'd look ravishing!" Fred exclaimed from behind you, making you jump out of your own skin. You felt your cheeks blush, knowing Freddie was right - you did look amazing, but you couldn't admit it. You knew this was sure to get Roger's attention when you see him, but you’re not sure you want him to see you in this way. You’re basically trying to look sexy, but you don't just want Roger to see you as a sex object, considering he's already seen you stripping. And like you’ve said, you don't want to just be added to his long list of one night lovers. "I guess it does kind of look nice - you don't think it's too... revealing?"

"Darling, we were given skin when we were born - so show it off! What else can we do with it?"

"Well, Fred, our skin protects us from microbes and the elements, helps regulate body temperature, and permits the sensations of touch, heat, and cold. Not draw in men who will most likely see me and think 'she'd be a good shag!'"

"It's one of its many uses love!" Freddie claimed, making you laugh loudly. He stepped closer to you, altering the dress in certain places so that it fit you better, before handing you a pair of heels he had grabbed while you were changing. Slipping them on, you stood back up only wobble a little in the shoes. You were used to wearing heels of course, your job requiring it, but these caught you off guard. "I guess the dress does hug my curves perfectly..."

"I know they do, love - I'm telling you, I have great fucking fashion sense so when I say you look absolutely sensational; you take it! Now slip the dress off and I'll go pay!"

"No no no Fred you're not paying!"

"Y/N, darling, need I remind that you didn't get paid this week because someone had a hissy fit and stormed out of work early. This one is my treat!" Freddie insisted, taking the dress from your hold and into his, before skipping out the door, allowing you to get dressed back in your boring, old clothes.

Walking through the entrance to the bar, though similar to the club, it hit you like a brick. The odour of weed and booze waft through the air, filling your senses with the most unpleasant sensations. As you and Freddie attempt to weave through the masses, dancing sweaty bodies press and rub up against you, making you pace increase as you strive to get away from the crowds. Once you had reached the front, you paid more attention to the band on stage, and looked towards the drum kit to make direct eye contact with Roger. You grinned widely and waved like an excited child, whilst he just sat there looking almost awestruck at what he was seeing in front of him. You noticed his eyes gaze up and down your body, starting at the black heels Freddie carefully picked out and moving up to reach your Y/H/C corkscrew curls which had taken you 2 hours to perfect - with the help of Freddie alongside your own capabilities- taking in your whole appearance of hair, makeup, dress and shoes. You knew you looked perfect, yet it didn't spring in your mind why Roger looked at you quite so longingly. He had only known you for a few days, and you were barely even friends at this point. You stepped away from the barrier of the stage with Freddie to grab a drink, jumping up onto a seat and crossing your legs - which seemed harder than you imagined it with the dress hugging so tightly around your hips. Freddie sat opposite you, snapping his fingers with such sass, you couldn't help but giggle lightly.

"Two Piña Coladas - one for me, one for the lady." Freddie demanded, shooing the bartender away, as he rolled his eyes at Fred's arrogance. You chuckled softly, slapping Freddie's leg harshly as if to tell him off for being a dick to the barkeeper. Of course, you knew he was only messing around, but anyone would think he was being a stuck up twat. Fred had 'flirted' with you on multiple occasions but you both knew he was only joking around - you had an inkling you were certainly the opposite of his type, so when he said the next thing, you were a little swept off your feet. "Y/N, can I ask you something?"

"Of course Fred, go for it!" you smiled, grabbing the drink that had just been placed beside you and mouthing a small 'thank you' to the bartender, following with a sip.

"Okay so, you know how I went out a few nights ago to that gig, and you mentioned how I came home relatively sober?" He questioned, you nodding slightly unsure of where this was going "Well, I met this girl at the gig, and I think I'm in love"

You choked on your drink as he spoke the words, looking up into his eyes, for some indication this was a joke or if he was being serious. "What?"

"Yeah, she's called Mary, and I think she is the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen - other than you, my dear" He mumbled, seeming slightly nervous at the admission, but you couldn't help but grin widely. "Freds that's amazing! I'm so happy for you! What did you need my help with then?"

"Thank you love. I just wanted your opinion, how could I maybe get her attention?"

"Well, considering you can barely keep eye contact with me without staring at someone behind me, I'm going to assume she's over there. So, go and fucking talk to her! Offer to buy her a drink! You know, be nice!" you exclaimed, pulling him out of his seat by his hand and pushing him towards her, seeing him strut off with confidence. However, now you were alone, and after consuming multiple drinks, you were beginning to feel the rush. You weren't drunk, but you were border lining tipsy and for you, that certainly wasn't safe. You pushed yourself away from the bar, to keep yourself from drinking any more than you already had this evening, and closer to the stage, considering you hadn't been paying much attention to Roger's band. As the booze flowed through your system, you couldn't help but let yourself get lost in the music, dancing along as if you were in the strip club doing your job. You strayed from all inhibitions and let the alcohol control my mind; before you knew it, the music was over and the boys on stage were finishing their set. Which meant one thing. You could go hang out with Roger.

You wander down the hallway which you saw Roger and the two other lads walk down, closing in on a door which was radiating the sound of loud music and possibly even arguing. Just as you placed my hand on the handle to open it, the door abruptly flung open to reveal a lad who looked around the same age as Roger and yourself, maybe a year or two older. He had brown, curly hair which reached down to his shoulders, and stood quite tall compared to you height; you recognised him as the guitarist from Rogers band. You jumped at the unexpected confrontation, whilst the boy just chuckled lightly.

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to scare you! Erm, can I help you? Are you lost?" He asked, looking around me for any indication that you were a fan or someone important

"I'm sorry, Roger said to come meet him after your set finished - I'm in his biology class" you grinned, hoping for Roger to pop round the corner at any given moment. Thought he didn't, and instead the lad just stood to the side to let you in.

"Ah yes, Y/N? Rogers just gone for a smoke, he should be back soon however - make yourself comfy. I'm Brian." He smiled widely, gesturing over to the couch which looked like it had been previously occupied not long ago - presumably by Roger. The fact that Brian knew your name meant one thing - Roger has been talking about you. God, what if he told them you’re a stripper? "I- uh- I apologise if Roger seems to be angry or annoyed in any way, we just had an argument with Tim, the lead singer, and Roger can tend to get extremely irate quite easily"

You nodded understandingly, having seen many episodes of Rogers frustrations, especially in Biology when he didn't understand a topic or couldn't do a certain practical correctly. They always ended with something broken; whether that was a glass test tube smashed on the floor, a biology textbook with the pages shredded out of them, or a very vital piece of his experiment data which he had ripped up. You were certain you did not want to be on the receiving end of one of these occurrences - "Maybe I should leave then, let Roger cool down a little?"

"No no no, you don't have to leave! In fact, it'll probably do you better to stay - you may be able to keep Roger at bay from smashing a drum kit or something. He wouldn't want to embarrass himself in front of you"

And with that, Roger threw the door open and stormed in, flinging his drumsticks against the couch- barely noticing your presence as he began to rant. "I can't believe the fucking guy, 'Humpy Bong', it's fucking bullshit - I mean what kind of name is that for a band? I've got better things to do with my Saturday nights - I could give you their names"

"Rog, we have a guest" Brian muttered, turning him around to face you, as you sat there awkwardly, a fake grin on your face as you attempted to act natural. "Hey" you mumbled, moving your hand as if to wave at him.

"Oh god, sorry love, I'm so glad you could make it!" He quickly exclaimed, turned around and pulling you into a quick hug as you stood up out of the seat.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world! Is everything okay?" you asked, noticing both Rog and Brian's hostility as you entered. You were guessing it's because of the argument they had with Tim - the lead singer - but you didn't know what it's about.

"Not really, Tim, our lead singer, just quit" Roger explained, plonking back into the couch you were sat on, his elbows situated on each knee as his head rested forward in his hands. After playing the drums for quite a while on stage, Roger had developed a look similar to when you saw him earlier today - tendrils of blonde hung in front of his eyes as his perspiration made his skin glow under the dimming light of the room. His shirt, which he had unbuttoned during the set, revealed the way his stomach inflated and deflated with every deep breath he took. You couldn't help but get lost in the sight of what you saw as an angel. As he leaned back on the couch and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it swiftly before pinning it between his teeth, to place his callous hand on my knee and turn to face you; sending shivers down your spine from his touch against your bare skin, electricity rushing through your body.

"W-what are you to d-do?" you stuttered, struggling to focus on anything but Roger's coarse touch against your leg. That was until you had an idea which you knew would work for both parties involved. "Actually, I may have a suggestion" you grinned, pushing myself off the couch in excitement, before rushing out the door to find Freddie. Freddie was perfect; Smile had just lost their singer and Fred had been saying for a while he wanted to be a star. And he certainly had the talent to do it. A few minutes later, you had returned, hand grasping onto Freddie's slightly too tightly you must admit. He had a look of confusion plastered on his face as you had ripped him away from whatever conversation he was happening - the caution you had made was that it was not with Mary, because that was not something you were going to ruin for him.

"Darling, care to explain what's going on?"

"I have the perfect addition to Smile. Brian, Roger - meet Freddie" you grinned, your smile extending across my whole face as you took pride in your proposition. "Fred, go on, sing something! You've been saying how you wanted to go into music!" you noticed the look of amusement on both Roger and Brian's face - you understood slightly; Freddie was an extravagant character and it was very well presented through his speech and appearance.

"Not with those teeth mate" Roger chuckled, and you shot him a glare out of the side of your eye. Freddie, of course, didn't let it affect him as he began singing Doing Alright - his angelic notes earning a look of shock and disbelief from the boys as they were proven wrong.

"He was born with four additional incisors - more space in his mouth means more range. I thought you would've known that Rog, having been a dental student and all" you smirked, giving Freddie a secluded high five at the snigger of Brian which came from behind us. Roger rolled his eyes at your snarky comment, but quickly got on board with your suggestion.

"I'll consider your offer" Freddie sassed, before pecking your cheek and beginning to walk out the door - "You coming back?"

"Erm, no I think I'll stay. If that's okay with you boys?" you grinned, looking over to see them nod, before giving Freddie a tight hug and seeing him out. "You boys wanna get a drink?"

Walking back out into the crowd brought a wave of exhilaration and animation over you, the alcohol rising back into your system to bring a sense of carelessness into your mind. You didn't realise how much you had actually consumed earlier on until you began to stumble with every step, in which Roger took notice of - wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you upright. You leant into his embrace, as to not fall over from your drunken inhibitions, giggling softly as your brain wandered off to gin-soaked thoughts. You heard Roger's small chuckles from beside you, as he placed you down in the booth he had managed to drag you towards, amused by your intoxicated actions. Brian returned from the bar with a tray of drinks, in which you reacted with grabby hands as if you were a child being given a sippy cup, him handing you a glass of red wine which you downed once it was placed in your hand. Both the boys were now laughing in hilarity at your utter desperation, which was quite common for you when you were under the influence, however you just shot them a sharp glare out of the side of your eye before demanding another drink.

"I think you've had enough Y/N, we can't have you passing out on us" Roger teased, moving his drink away from you as if you were going to attempt to take it. You were going to, but he didn't need to know that.

"Fine. I'll go get my own" you sassed, trying to stand in the heels Freddie had so stupidly chosen, wobbling a little as the alcohol rushed to your head from your sudden movement. Once you caught your balance, you shot Roger a smirk before strutting off to the bar. Once there, you asked for a drink and zoned out completely, paying no mind whatsoever about your surroundings, whilst in the bar Roger and Brian conversed about you.

"God, Y/N looks fucking gorgeous" Roger exclaimed, releasing a long sigh while slumping back into his seat. He shot small glances over at you, mainly at the way the dress sat on your body, but occasionally lifting to look at your small smile growing on your face as you tried not to lose your balance and fall backwards. "I mean, look at that fucking dress. And her hair looks so perfect. And don't even get me started on that smile. Brian, what should I do?"

"Why don't you try complimenting her? Girls usually tend to, you know, appreciate that" Brian sniggered, finding Roger's infatuation slightly amusing; he had never seen Roger behave like this around a woman - he would usually talk about how her tits looked good or her ass looked sexy. Never had he complimented someone's dress, unless it involved it being in a pool around a girls legs. Never had he complimented someone's hair, unless it involved it being post-sex and frizzed up. Never had he complimented someone's smile, unless it involved it being wrapped around his cock as he got sucked off.

"I can't Brian. What if she thinks I want to just get her into bed?" He groaned, his brain searching for ways to get away from his lust.

"Well, isn't that kind of what you want?"

"No. Not Y/N - well yes, but not just that. Y/N's different" Roger explained, his eyes now staring over in your direction. Meanwhile, you were slowly beginning to get extremely impatient at the fact your drink was yet to arrive, rolling your eyes and slumping back onto a barstool to save your legs from buckling under your weight, bumping into someone sat in the seat next to you. You turned to apologize but found yourself speechless at the sight in front of you. A man, around your age, who had the appearance of an angel; a head of brunette, curly hair which hung over his forehead; underneath which were piercing, green eyes which were burning into my soul; his dewy, tawny skin glowing under the dims lights of the bar; he was besuited, his dark silk suit perfectly shaping his muscles, making him look neat and tidy. As you sat, taking in his appearance, he perked up.

"I'm awfully sorry, didn't mean to bump into you" He apologized, his voice deep and raspy just as you'd expect from such a good-looking man, sending butterflies to your stomach in an instant. "No, no, it was my fault - I wasn't looking where I was going"

"Well, I won't hold a grudge - can't stay angry at such a beautiful woman" He charmed, making your cheeks blush in an instant. You turned fully to face him, noticing he was too sat alone. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Oh, I did order one just a few minutes ago but I haven't got it yet." you explained, slurring your words a little as the alcohol was still brewing within you. No doubt, it would make you do or say something stupid in front of the man, but you were to face that problem when it arised. The man tapped his hand on the counter top aggressively, and then snapped his fingers a few times in order to get the bartender's attention. "Excuse me - the lady ordered a drink a while ago but is yet to get it. Pick up the pace a little, would you”

"S-sorry, I'm do-doing my best. It's very busy, s-sir. I'll get your drink now, s-sir" The young boy stuttered, his face clouded with fear and agitation. You couldn't help but feel sorry for the lad, he truly was trying his best. You mouthed a small 'sorry' towards him, making him smile a little as he poured my glass of rosé and handed it to me. Taking a small sip, you turned to the boy and asked "What's your name?"

"My name is J-John, miss." He mumbled, as if he was intimidated by you; as if he was afraid he had got the order wrong. Instead, you returned with a smile and responded with "Thank you for the drink, John - you are a very good bartender" which gained a small 'thank you' and a grin. The man only responded with a dirty glare in John's direction before turning back to you with a smirk.

"You know, you don't have to be so nice to him - it's not like he deserves it" He explained, still smirking as he glanced up and down your body. You simply rolled your eyes and took another sip of the drink, but choked on it as soon as he said "Your tits look nice in that dress"

"Excuse me?!" you exclaimed, narrowing your eyes in his direction that he had the audacity to say such a thing.

"Your tits - they look fucking amazing. Oh come on love, that was meant to be a compliment"

"But you couldn't have complimented anything else? Maybe my hair which I put a lot of effort into, or my smile, or eyes - you picked my breasts out of all the options?"

"For fuck sake, I was trying to be nice. You sound like one of those crazy feminist bitches who go on about women liberation and civil rights" He complained, making your head shoot up in utter disbelief - did he really just say that?

"So what if I am? How 'bout you wait and see whos on the right side of history in 40 years or so - us 'crazy feminists', or you and your fellow National Front cunts" you raged, resisting the urge to place a harsh and sharp slap against this guys face. You were sure Roger and Brian had noticed what was going on by now, considering they weren't sat too far away and you were sure the whole club could hear me right now.

"Y/N what's going on?" you heard Roger question from behind you, but the anger you were channelling at the moment blocked everything but you and the guy in front of you out of your focus.

"Maybe we 'cunts' are simply trying to keep foreigners out of this country; they come here stealing our jobs and taking up space which they don't deserve in the first place. This country was founded by white people and we simply intend to keep it that way." He attempted to argue back, gaining nothing but a scoff and an eye roll from you.

"Oh and let me guess - men are the ones who should be out working, and women should stay around the house and clean?" you sarcastically asked, knowing exactly his answer but seeing if he'd dare to say it. In which he did.

"Obviously, that's how it's always worked - why change now?"

"WOW, you are just fucking mental aren't you!? Do you understand how hard it actually is to be a woman? Abortions were legalised only 3 years ago, and we can't even get birth control without having to pay extortionate prices-"

"Don't have sex then?" He argued, which made both you and Roger simultaneously gasp in incredulity. "I doubt you even know anything about politics in the first place - you think men have it easy? We're the ones who have to work everyday, and we have to deal with women like you who think you own the world"

And it was that sentence alone that tipped you over the edge. Your fist connected with the man's nose in a sharp instant, causing him to flinch back in pain - "Ow what the fuck! You fucking crazy bitch, you broke my fucking nose!" - his hand shot up to his nose, which was now pouring blood and slightly crooked. You shook your hand off to relieve some of the pain you had acquired before squatting down to come face to face with the man, your face merely an inch away as your none-bloody fist clenching onto his tie to hold him closer.

"Well then, maybe next time you'll think before a) questioning my fucking knowledge and b) being such a fucking fascist pig" you practically spat in his face, standing up to go kick him where the sun don't shine; until you felt a tight grasp around your wrist pulling you back. The next thing you knew, you were outside the bar, the rain pouring down over the two of you. "The fucking nerve of that man, acting like he owns the fucking country. And then he has the fucking audacity to say I don't know what I'm talking about? If anything, he's the one who doesn't know what he's talking about! Why didn't you leave me there, could've given him a piece of my fucking mind, the fucking fascist pig. Oh wait, sorry, 'girls shouldn't fight, girls should stay home and clean and cook and wait on men hand and fucking foot' because that's all we're fucking good for!"

"Y/N, I think you already gave him a piece of your mind" Roger chuckled, grabbing the top of your arm to stop you from pacing around. You shot him a glare for laughing at the situation, until his hand grabbed yours, causing you to wince at the sudden pain. "Wait, Y/N, is your hand okay?"

"I-I don't know, it kind of hurt when I hit him, I can't really move it very well" you breathed, out of breath from your pacing and shouting. You lifted your hand and tried to bend it, but you could barely move it without sharp pains shooting through you. "Y/N, I think it's broken. Let me take you to the hospital"

"No no no, I'm not going to the hospital - maybe in the morning, but not now. Right now, I just want to go home and drink until I fall asleep."

"Well, let me walk you back then - you can't walk back by yourself in the rain, it's dark and it's not safe out. Plus, I haven't really got to spend as much time as I wanted to with you tonight" Roger grinned, holding out his hand to meet yours; the one which wasn't broken that is. You took it into your hold, as you began to walk towards your block - it was only a 10 minute walk, but it seems much shorter when you are enjoying your time.

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