#and asked them a question and the only reason they actually stopped to respond was cause they ran into my chair and then the chair next to

[jainitor]

False Alarm

!Kang Haerin x Reader!

"Getting blamed for pulling the fire alarm and almost getting suspended? Annoying. Getting paired with the actual culprit for a project? Fucking mint. Falling for them— wait what?!"

Tags: Enemies to lovers, Highschool au, wedding booth, happy ending, overachiever kang haerin, SLIGHT academic rivalry, idk

Warnings: cursing, Haerin is a nonchalant dreadhead, meddling friends, bad pacing, rushed ending IDFK I JUST WANT TO GET THIS SHIT OUT OF MY DRAFTS😭🙏🙏, this is so long for no reason, but I was too lazy to shorten it😝😝👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

words: 8k(I think)

You pace back and forth, your sneakers scuffing against the dull classroom tiles. The ceiling fan hums faintly above, but it does little to ease the stiff air. The clock ticks loudly, grating against your nerves. But the real culprit isn’t the clock—or the room. It’s Haerin.

She’s sat on the teacher’s desk, one leg crossed over the other, her arms resting casually on her lap. Her sharp, cat-like eyes follow your every move, unreadable. You try to ignore the way her gaze makes your skin crawl—or how it quickens your pulse—but it’s impossible.

“Stop pacing,” she finally says,

You whirl around to face her, exasperated. “Stop locking doors!”

“I didn’t lock it on purpose.”

“Right. And I didn’t follow you because I thought you were up to something sketchy.”

Her head tilts slightly, eyes narrowing with quiet amusement. She hums softly, the sound brushing against your nerves. “You’ve got a pretty vivid imagination for someone who’s terrible at sneaking around.”

Your face burns. “I wasn’t sneaking!”

“You tripped over a chair in the hallway,”

“I was investigating.” you counter, defensive.

“Sure you were.”

The room feels like it’s shrinking, the tension pressing in on you. Maybe it’s the way her gaze locks onto yours, steady and just a bit too intense. You shift your weight, crossing your arms over your chest—not because it makes you look tougher, but because it feels like the only thing holding you together right now.

She doesn’t look away. Not once.

“Why do you care so much?” she asks eventually, breaking the silence.

The question catches you off guard, and for a split second, your bravado falters.

Why do you care?

You open your mouth to respond but realize you don’t actually have an answer—or at least not one you’re ready to say aloud. Flustered, you wave your arms in frustration. “Because you’re suspicious.”

Haerin raises a single eyebrow, “Suspicious enough for you to follow me for—what, 40 minutes?”

“Forty-five,” you mutter under your breath before you can stop yourself.

Her lips twitch, and then—just barely—you hear it. A laugh. It’s quiet, light, and so brief that for a moment, you’re not even sure you imagined it. It throws you off balance,

And you hate how much it surprises you.

How much it almost makes you smile.

You clear your throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “Are you gonna tell me why you’re even here?” you ask, leaning against the door. You attempt to look relaxed—cool, even—but you’re painfully aware of how stiff and awkward you must appear.

Haerin regards you with an air of detachment, her expression betraying nothing. Then she shrugs. “No.”

“That’s suspicious.”

“That’s none of your business.”

The silence between you crackles with tension. Neither of you moves. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, but her posture remains perfect, completely unbothered.

Finally, she stands, brushing past you with infuriating ease. Her arm grazes yours, and the faint scent of her shampoo lingers—clean, sharp, unmistakably her.

You freeze.

She doesn’t even glance back as she reaches for the door handle. “Let me know when you’re done playing detective,” she says casually

The door creaks open without resistance.

It was never locked.

You stare after her, dumbfounded. Your shoulders slump as frustration bubbles in your chest.

“Damn you, Kang Haerin,” you mutter, the words too quiet to reach her as she disappears into the hallway.

Damn you for being so pretty.

The thought slips out unbidden, and you run a hand over your face, groaning softly.

Liking someone who almost got you suspended wasn’t exactly the highlight of your senior year, but here you were.

You didn’t even know when it all started.

Or maybe you did, and that was the worst part.

Let's go back a few months.

“L/N, it’s the first week of your senior year, and you’re already in my office.” The principal’s voice carries that mix of disappointment and irritation that makes your stomach twist. He leans back in his chair, exhaling heavily as though the weight of your alleged crimes is just too much for him to bear.

“Not exactly the note we want to start on, is it?”

Detention. For a month.

And it wasn’t even your fault.

The whole mess started when you got lost—an innocent enough situation, right? You were wandering the hallways, clutching a crumpled schedule, trying to find your history class in this architectural monstrosity they call a school. Then, chaos erupted.

Someone—some GENIUS—pulled the fire alarm. Students poured into the hallways like water bursting through a dam, everyone shouting and shoving. In the middle of the commotion, a voice rang out: “It was her!”

And just like that, you were the scapegoat.

By the time you were dragged into the principal’s office, you’d barely had time to process what was happening.

“Principal Kim, I didn’t do it!” you’d pleaded, gripping the edge of the chair so hard your knuckles turned white. “I can’t afford to lose my scholarship over this—it wasn’t me!”

He’d pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly weighing whether he cared enough to believe you.

After a long pause, he sighed. “I’ll give you detention instead of suspension. But, L/N, if there’s another incident, my hands are tied.”

Fast-forward, You storm out of the office, phone in hand, thumbs flying across the screen as you rant in your group chat. Rage boils under your skin, making your fingers tremble as you type. You’re so focused on venting that you don’t even notice the person in your path until you crash into them—hard.

A metallic clatter echoes on the tile floor.

You look up, already muttering an apology, and freeze.

It’s her.

The girl who pulled the fire alarm.

“You!” you blurted, pointing an accusatory finger.

She stares at you for at least five seconds before tilting her head, her expression calm, almost detached.

"Do I know you?" she asks,

Your blood pressure skyrockets. “You know exactly who I am! I’m the one who got blamed for your little stunt!”

Her brow furrows slightly, like she’s genuinely confused—or maybe just a really good actress. For a split second, doubt flickers in your mind.

Was it her?

But then you see it.

The half-finished graffiti on the wall behind her. A vibrant swirl of colors, interrupted mid-spray.

It's definitely her.

“Do you realize how much trouble you caused me?”

“Do you realize how loud you’re being?”

Her calm demeanor only fuels your anger and before you know it, you’ve snatched the spray can from her hand.

She finally reacts—a surprised yelp, quickly changed to a glare. “What the hell’s your problem?”

“My problem?” you snap, voice rising. “LISTEN YOU CRETINOUS BLUNDERBUSS, I ALMOST got suspended because of you! And if I get suspended, I’ll have a record. If I have a record, I can kiss my dream college goodbye. If I don’t go to my dream college, I won’t get into any college. And if I don’t go to college, I’ll end up broke, homeless, and probably dead in a ditch—”

You stop, chest heaving. Maybe a little dramatic, but who cares? You're frustrated.

She raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed. “You done?”

Your hands clench around the spray can. “I hate you,” You sputter, too stunned to even form a coherent insult.

“You know, I’d run if I were you.”

You blink. “Run from wha—”

“Student!”

Your body goes rigid. That voice—it’s a teacher.

You whip around, dread pooling in your chest. Sure enough, a teacher stands at the end of the hall, their stern gaze locking onto you.

You, with a spray can in hand, standing in front of the vandalized wall like a walking, talking confession.

“Stay right there!”

You do not stay right there. Your brain short-circuits. You’re running before you can think, adrenaline kicking in.

You tear around a corner, heart pounding so hard you swear it’s trying to escape. The girl’s ahead of you, her jacket flapping behind her as she darts into the girls’ bathroom. You hesitate for half a second before diving in after her.

You stumble inside, gasping for air, bracing yourself against the sink. “What the hell?!”

She’s by the mirror, calmly washing her hands like she’s got all the time in the world.

“I warned you,” she says, not even glancing your way.

“You warned me?!” You stare at her, incredulous. “You—ugh!”

She grabs a paper towel, dabbing her hands dry with infuriating nonchalance. The dripping faucet is the only sound in the tense silence that follows.

You gesture wildly to the graffiti on the walls. “Let me guess—this is your handiwork too?”

She doesn’t answer, just tosses the paper towel into the trash and heads for the door.

“I could report you,” you snap, desperation creeping into your tone.

She pauses, one hand on the doorframe. For a moment, you think you’ve gotten through to her.

Then she looks over her shoulder, her expression cool and detached. “Go ahead.”

Her words are like a punch to the gut.

And then she’s gone, leaving you standing in the stinky dingy bathroom with nothing but your anger and the faint scent of paint lingering in the air.

Who the hell does she think she is?

“Kang Haerin. Top student, perfect grades, a shelf full of awards, always getting called up at recognitions."

You slump back in your seat at the cafeteria table, staring at the picture on Ryujin’s phone like it’s going to change if you just squint hard enough. But nope—it’s the same as it was five minutes ago.

She's pretty.

"Are you sure she was the one who pulled the fire alarm?” Hyunjin pipes up, snatching one of Ryujin’s fries before she can swat his hand away.

“Yeah… I mean, with that kind of reputation, it does sound crazy,” you admit, your voice trailing off. Your eyes linger on the screen. The photo is a little blurry, but it’s enough.

Long, sleek black hair.

Straight bangs that frame her face perfectly.

And those stupid cat-like eyes.

Too pretty.

It’s her. It has to be her.

“Uh-huh.” Hyunjin gives you a skeptical look, biting into the stolen fry. “Maybe you should stop skipping your meds, Y/N. You’re starting to sound like a conspiracy theorist.”

You glare at him, swatting weakly in his direction. “Shut up. It really is her.” Your voice is firm, but there’s a small crack of doubt that you hate hearing.

Across the table, Ryujin snatches her phone back, narrowing her eyes at Hyunjin. “Can you not?” She punctuates her words by smacking his hand when he reaches for another fry.

“I believe you,” she says, offering a small shrug “I mean, Kang is… mysterious. Who knows what she’s hiding under all that? She could totally have a rebellious side.”

“Thank you!” you groan, practically collapsing forward onto the table. It’s the first time anyone has taken you seriously since this whole mess started.

Ryujin nods, shoving another fry into her mouth with a look of satisfaction. “People always act like the quiet ones are angels, but those are the ones you gotta watch out for. You ever see those crime documentaries? It’s always the straight-A students who turn out to be arsonists or something.”

Hyunjin snickers. “Okay, but setting a fire alarm off is a little different from being an arsonist.”

“Exactly!” you snap, slapping the table for emphasis. A little too hard, judging by the sting in your palm. “She’s too perfect. Nobody’s that perfect without hiding something.”

“Or,” Hyunjin says, smirking, “you’re just mad you got detention and need someone to blame.”

You open your mouth to retort, but Ryujin beats you to it, jabbing a fry in his direction. “Shut it, Hyunjin. You weren’t there."

"And yesterday? She didn’t even flinch when I called her out. Just stared at me like I was crazy. Who does that?” you huff

“Someone who’s got nerves of steel, apparently,” Hyunjin says, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head.

“Or someone who knows you can’t prove it.”

The comment hits harder than you want to admit. Because it’s true. You’ve got nothing. Not a shred of evidence that anyone’s going to take seriously. Straight-A Kang Haerin, the school’s golden girl, secretly pulling fire alarms and vandalizing walls? It sounds ridiculous. Even you know that.

so you decided to let it go...for now.

or not.

It's been days since that whole thing went down, and you're still stuck in detention. Of course. Ever since then, there's been this weird tension between you and Haerin. Every time you pass each other in the hall, it turns into a silent showdown of eye contact. First one to look away loses. Which, honestly, feels a little...gay? Anyway, she wins most of the time, but whatever—it's not like you're keeping score.

Today seems like another regular day of Haerin being her usual know-it-all self. That is, until you suddenly speak up.

“What’s the point of giving people ‘equal chances’ when they’re starting from completely different places?” you ask, your voice sharper than you intended.

Haerin blinked, caught off guard, but quickly regained her composure. “Because without a system of clear rules, any attempt at equality becomes chaotic. How do you decide who gets what without creating even more inequality in the process?”

You lean back in your chair, forcing yourself to sound relaxed. “Easy. You focus on the people who’ve been left out the most—actually listen to them and adjust the system to fit their needs.”

“Adjust the system?” Haerin repeats, her voice smooth but with a faint edge of disbelief. “That’s a nice thought, but in the real world, people in power don’t just hand over control. Change has to come from within the system.”

You can’t stop yourself from scoffing. “Within the system? Right. Because the people who created the problem are totally the ones who’ll fix it.”

Her lips twitch, like she’s holding back a smirk. “So, what’s your plan? Let people just figure it out themselves?”

“Pretty much,” you shoot back, “It’s not about swooping in to ‘fix’ things for them-”

Haerin’s eyes narrow just slightly, but her voice stays annoyingly calm. “That assumes everyone has the resources or education to organize themselves effectively. Not everyone’s equipped to lead change. That’s why structured solutions work better.”

You don’t miss the implication—like she’s saying you wouldn’t be equipped to handle it. You bristle, your words coming out sharper than intended. “Wow, sounds like someone doesn’t trust people to think for themselves. That must be nice, deciding what’s best for everyone else from your perfect little bubble.”

Her eyes flash, and for a moment, you think you’ve hit a nerve. “Better than standing on the sidelines, throwing ideas around with no plan to back them up. Guess some of us prefer action over aimless complaining.”

Your classmates exchange looks, some clearly entertained by the impromptu showdown. “Action, huh? Like pulling fire-"

The teacher finally sighs, holding up a hand. “Enough, you two. This isn’t a competition.”

You shut up, mostly because you don’t want a month of detention turning into two.

“Now,” the teacher continues, “since you’re both so enthusiastic about participating, you’ll have the perfect opportunity to work together.”

Your stomach sinks.

“For the upcoming group project, Kang and L/N, you’ll be partners.”

Are you fucking serious?

just as you thought detention for a month couldnt be worse.

YOU just made it worse

you sigh as you slumped back in your seat, you take a glimpse at haerin brows furrowing as you see her...holding back a smile?

Weird.

Haerin kept her face neutral when the professor called out your names as partners, but inside? She was buzzing.

You were different. No one ever challenged her in class—most people either agreed with her or kept quiet. But you? You stood up and fired back without hesitation, and you surpringly made sense. You weren’t just smart; you were sharp. Every argument you made earlier was solid, like you’d thought about it for hours instead of coming up with it on the spot And the way your eyebrows scrunched when she pushed back with her own point? That was unfairly adorable. Not that she’d ever admit it out loud. She wouldn’t even admit it to herself—not fully.

She told herself it was annoying. You were annoying. But it didn’t feel annoying. It felt… like you were getting under her skin in a way no one else ever had. And the really frustrating part? She didn’t hate it.

She liked it.

She liked you.

She wasn’t sure when it started. Maybe it was the day you stormed up to her, finger pointed and accusing her of pulling the fire alarm. Sure, she might’ve pulled it, but was it her fault you got blamed? Not at all.

She should’ve been defending herself or at least rolling her eyes at you, but all she could focus on was how your hair fell perfectly into your face while you were ranting. Or the way your voice got higher when you were mad. And your eyes. Even when you were glaring at her like she was your mortal enemy, there was something soft about them, like you weren’t capable of actually hating anyone.

She hated that she noticed all of that.

And she really hated that she didn’t hate it at all.

-A month ago-

"You know her?" Haerin asked casually, though her voice was just a little too steady as she looked over at Danielle.

Danielle, ever the social butterfly, didn’t even need to ask who Haerin meant. She tilted her head toward your table and squinted. "Which one? Ryujin? Oh! She’s the guitari—"

"No," Haerin interrupted quickly. "The one holding her phone."

Danielle’s eyes narrowed as she tried to place you. Just then, you slapped the table, the sharp sound cutting through the room. A few heads turned briefly before everyone went back to their conversations.

"Ohhh," Danielle said, finally making the connection. "Y/N. L/N Y/N. She’s the new transfer, senior, SUPER pretty, Super kind—" Danielle rambled, sipping from her orange juice.

'Super kind? Yeah, sure.' Haerin thought.

But the super pretty part? Yeah… she wasn’t about to argue with that. Not even a little bit

"Why? Why do you ask?" Danielle asked, turning her full attention to Haerin. Her head tilted slightly, and her eyebrows knitted together in curiosity. Then, as if struck by lightning, her eyes widened.

"Wait a second. Don’t tell me you like her."

At that, the whole table froze.

Hanni stopped mid-game on her Nintendo, her head snapping up. Minji put her phone down entirely,

"Haerin likes who?!" Hyein chimed in, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling with interest.

“No one,” Haerin said quickly, groaning as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I ran into her yesterday. I just… wondered why I hadn’t seen her before.”

The table stayed quiet for a second, then erupted in disbelief.

"Yeah, okay," Minji said, smirking.

"Sure sure," Hanni muttered, clearly unconvinced.

Hyein just went, “Ooooh,” dragging it out long enough for Haerin to want to crawl under the table.

"Are you cert-"

"Shut up."

Working with you wasn’t THAT bad. Haerin wouldn’t say it out loud—obviously—but you were a lot more organized and reliable than she’d expected. No slacking off, no ghosting. Honestly, you made the whole project way easier than she’d thought it would be.

Somehow, you’d both slipped into a routine. After class, meet up, work on the project, exchange a few sarcastic remarks, rinse and repeat. It worked. Eventually, you agreed—reluctantly—to swap numbers 'for better communication.' Not that Haerin hesitated. If anything, she grabbed your phone and typed her contact in like it was no big deal. Suspiciously fast.

Somewhere along the way, the bickering shifted. It wasn’t annoying anymore—it was… kind of fun? Almost normal? Maybe even nice??? Everytime she teases you, everytime you call her out, there was this flicker in her eyes. Amusement, maybe? Whatever it was, it made you forget to be annoyed.

And then there was her calmness. Like, even when you got frustrated and started spiraling. Her soft, steady voice was like a hand pulling you back from the edge.

Not that you’d ever admit that either.

You didn’t want to think about it too hard. But you also couldn’t help noticing these little things about her: the way she tapped her pen when she was thinking, or how she hummed quietly while fixing her notes. Stuff you wouldn’t have picked up on before.

Weird.

Haerin knocks on your door three times.

Three. Times.

She knocked on YOUR door.

Why was she at your house again?

Haerin's phone buzzed as your text lit up her screen. She clicked the notification immediately, her lips pursing as she read your message.

"Sorry can't meet up today, I'm sick."

Haerin raises an eyebrow, her fingers hovering over the keys as she types a reply.

haerin: No you're not.

y/n: Yes, I am.

haerin: What sickness do you have? A mental one?

She leans back in her chair, barely suppressing a laugh at her own comeback. You stare at the message for a moment, eyebrows furrowing.

y/n: SEVERE COLD, HAERIN.

haerin: You're probably faking it 🙄

y/n: WHY WOULD I FAKE HAVING A SEVERE COLD?

haerin: Idk, so you wouldn't work on the project, ig...

Your eyes widen. Typing out a response as you scroll through the project files on your laptop.

y/n: WE'RE LITERALLY ALMOST FINISHED.

haerin: What's your address?

You blink at the message.

y/n: Why? So you can bomb my house?

haerin: So I can come over and see if you're actually sick.

You smirk, flipping over onto your bed with a dramatic sigh.

y/n: You just want to see me... omg, are you worried about me? ❤💜😋

You laugh as you send it, but your heart skips a beat as you wait for her reply. Haerin’s fingers freeze for a second, the playful edge in her expression faltering. She inhales, trying to cover up the slight warmth that creeps up her neck.

Haerin: Worried ur face, what's your address? I'm coming over -_-

You laugh at her response, shaking your head as you type back.

Y/N: You idiot, do you not know severe cold is contagious?

Haerin: And?

Y/N: YOU'RE GONNA GET INFECTED BY ME????

Haerin’s fingers types back, repeating your sarcastic tone earlier.

Haerin: Omg, are you worried about me? ❤💜😋

Y/N: Yeah, if you get sick too, who's gonna finish the project? 🥺💔

She stares at her screen for a moment, her expression softening despite herself. She types quickly, trying to cover up the sudden warmth in her chest.

Haerin: Just send the address.

You grin, sending a pinned location.

And that’s how Haerin ends up standing in front of your door. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, balancing a plastic bag with a small container inside in one hand and her laptop tucked under her arm.

When you open the door, Haerin’s breath hitches for just a moment as she takes you in: the messy bun perched high on your head, the oversized pajama top slipping slightly off one shoulder, revealing the curve of your collarbone, and black shorts that hang loosely on your frame. Your nose is red probably from sneezing, but your eyes, tired as they are, still carry that spark she’s always noticed. The way the light catches on the little stray hairs framing your face, the faint glisten of chapstick on your lips

What flavor is it? Cherry? Mint? She clamps down on the thought immediately. No no stop gay thoughts

"You actually came?" you say with a hoarse cough, your voice scratchy but still teasing.

She nods subtly, unable to tear her eyes away. There’s something disarming about seeing you like this—unguarded, cozy, real. You catch her staring, and she quickly looks away, her cheeks heating.

She pretends to inspect the plastic bag in her hand, as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Come in, weirdo,” you say, snickering, stepping aside and pushing the door wider.

Haerin steps in, her gaze darting around.

The place is clean—just as she expected—but noticeably quiet.

"You live alone?”

You close the door behind her with a shrug. “Yeah.”

Her eyebrows lift slightly. “Oh.”

"Where are your parents?"

“They died,” you add, deadpan.

Haerin freezes mid-step, her face falling. “I’m so—”

“Kidding!” You burst into laughter, which quickly turns into a series of harsh coughs. “They live across the country.”

Haerin’s jaw tightens as she smacks your shoulder lightly. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s hilarious,” you wheeze between coughs.

She rolls her eyes though there was a hint of worry as she toes off her shoes, setting the bag on the table.

“What’s that?” you ask, sniffling as you flop back onto the couch and burrito yourself in a blanket.

“Samgye-tang,” she mumbles, awkwardly standing in the middle of your living room, laptop still tucked under her arm.

“For what?”

“For you.” The words slip out before she can stop them. She fumbles. “It’s… uh, good for colds. I Googled it.”

You chuckle, your voice raspy. “How sweet.”

“Anyways,” she mutters, trying to mask the flustered tone as she pulls out her laptop, “we need to finish the project.”

You laugh at how quickly she switches topics. “How swift.”

“Ahh, let’s start,” she whines, failing to hide her smile as she plops onto the couch beside you.

Before opening her laptop, she pulls something from her pocket: a white face mask.

“I’m kinda offended,” you say as she slips it on.

“Don’t wanna get infected.” came her muffled voice through the white mask.

You rolled your eyes, slumping deeper into your blanket cocoon. “I thought you said ‘and?’”

Haerin didn’t answer. Instead, she just smirked, her eyes narrowing playfully, and flipped open her laptop. The hum of the device filled the air as she pulled up the project files.

Time flies and the once stillness of your house is now filled with the faint hum of Bruno Major’s Nothing playing in the background. The comforting melody wove through the air, blending with the soft clink of your spoon against the bowl as you sipped the soup Haerin had brought.

The soup was warm, richer than anything you would’ve bothered to make for yourself. It coated your throat, easing the lingering scratchiness from earlier. It was good—surprisingly good. And she’d bought it for you.

The thought made you pause, your spoon hovering mid-air.

When did this happen?

When did you and Haerin get this close?

Just months ago, she’d been the girl who pulled the fire alarm as a stupid joke(?), leaving you to take the blame. You still remember the awkward shuffle to detention every day for a whole month. You hated her then.

But now...

Now, she was here. In your house. On your couch.

Her laptop sat abandoned beside her, her head resting against your shoulder, her breaths slow and even.

She was asleep.

on your shoulder.

You turned your head slightly, careful not to wake her, and caught a glimpse of her face. With her mask pushed below her chin, her lips were slightly parted, her usually sharp features softened by the glow of the lamp. Her hair framed her face like she was the main character in some cheesy movie scene.

Your shoulder should’ve been aching by now, but it wasn’t.

Instead, there was a strange warmth blooming in your chest.

You stared at her, the quiet intimacy of the moment wrapping around you like the blanket you were cocooned in. The realization crept in slowly, uninvited but impossible to ignore.

When did you stop hating her?

No—when did you start liking her?

Your heart gave an unsteady thud, loud enough that you were half-convinced she’d wake up and hear it. You looked away, setting the now-empty bowl on the coffee table, trying to stop the thoughts in your head.

This doesn’t mean anything, you told yourself. She’s just here because of the project.

But that didn’t explain the soup. Or the way her head fit so naturally against your shoulder. Or why, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t want to push her away.

Because even as you turned back to the glowing laptop screen, the weight of her head on your shoulder grounded you in a way that felt... nice.

Too nice.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at her again. Just one more time. Her lashes cast faint shadows on her cheeks, and her lips twitched ever so slightly, like she was dreaming.

And for the first time in a while, you weren’t annoyed with her. You weren’t frustrated or rolling your eyes.

Instead, you felt something else entirely.

"This is seriously gross. I hope they get kicked out," Hyein fake-gagged, pretending to shove her finger down her throat.

"Call me delusional, but I've NEVER seen Haerin smile that much in one day," Hanni whispers, leaning over her textbook.

“Right?” Ryujin chimed in, flipping a page of her notebook like she wasn’t dropping a bombshell. “Can’t believe they’re not together yet.”

“They’re not?” Hyein and Hanni’s heads whipped around so fast you’d think they’d snapped their necks. Their voices rang out louder than intended, drawing a sharp glare from the librarian across the room.

"You guys didn't know?" Ryujin raises a brow.

"No!" Hyein and Hanni hiss in unison, which earns them another sharp glare from the librarian across the room. They duck their heads, covering their mouth.

Minji, equally scandalized, glances over at the two of you. "Wait, so... why not?"

Ryujin shrugs like she couldn’t care less, though her smirk says otherwise. "Beats me. Guess no one’s got the guts to confess."

“They’ve got to be, like, this close to confessing, though,” Hanni whispered, holding her thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart.

“Not happening,” Ryujin replied without looking up from her notes. “Y/n’s definitely not confessing first. She’d die before admitting she likes someone.”

From their point of view, it looked more like a cozy date than a group study session. Haerin had insisted on sitting apart from the others, claiming the group was "too distracting." Her excuse for picking you instead? “You’re less distracting.” The irony wasn’t lost on anyone.

At your table, Haerin was mid-rant about the superiority of tomatoes over avocados, her words spilling out like a flood. You weren’t even sure how the conversation had started, but she’d gone from mildly passionate to full-on Eminem-speed enthusiasm. The right earbud of her headphones in your ear, the left in hers, the music was playing "flaming hot cheetos" by clairo. this is so gay, omg wait.

And you? You were absolutely useless. All you could do was nod along, every word she said melting into background noise as your focus stayed glued to her. The way her lips curved into a smile every time she made a point. The way she'd playfully hit you when you occasionally tease her. The little crease in her brow when she was trying to organize her thoughts. The warmth in her voice when she was really, truly excited about something.

She was so... Haerin. There was no one else like her. She was warm but guarded, quiet but opinionated, reserved until she wasn’t. And, as much as you hated to admit it, you were a goner.

"Yeah- Wow. Y/N is GONE," Minji whispers, pointing in your direction.

"Awwh, shes looking at Haerin like she’s the only person on earth," Hyein mutters, earning a snort from Hanni.

"You know what we need to do?" Hyein suddenly perks up, her grin nothing short of mischievous. "We should bet on who confesses first."

"10,000 won on Y/N," Minji declares immediately, pulling a crumpled bill out of her pocket and slapping it onto the table. "No way Haerin makes the first move."

"I'm in," Danielle says, jolting awake from what everyone thought was a nap. She stretches lazily and plucks out her own contribution.

"Hold up. Isn’t this, like... morally questionable?" Hanni asks, though she’s already digging through her bag.

"Okay, but since when were you morally anything, Hanni?" Hyein quips, raising an eyebrow. Hanni gasps, clutching her bag like she’s been deeply wronged, before casually tossing in her money.

The group splits quickly—Hyein, Minji, and Ryujin bet on you, while Hanni and Danielle side with Haerin.

"Okay hear me out," Hanni leans in conspiratorially, her tone serious. "Haerin’s shy, yeah, but i feel like she's the type to make a surprise move when no one’s expecting it."

“Haerin? A surprise confession?” Minji deadpanned, her tone dripping with skepticism. “Y/N’s been pining for weeks. They’ll crack first.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night” Hanni retorted. "I have faith in Haerin’s game bro.”

The debate continues in hushed whispers, the occasional glare from the librarian barely slowing them down. Eventually, Hyein claps her hands together, her grin wider than ever.

“WAIT, What if neither of them confesses?” Ryujin said, leaning back in her chair.

"Okay, so if neither of them confesses by the end of the week, we *make* it happen." hyein says

“Meddling feels kinda wrong, though,” Danielle said, frowning slightly. “Doesn’t it?”

“You’re already betting on them,” Minji pointed out. “May as well go all in.”

"Exactly," Hyein says, the gleam in her eyes downright devious. "They’re both gay oblivious disasters. Someone’s gotta give them a little push."

The group nodded in agreement, the stakes set. They whispered plans and strategies, the quiet library filling with the sound of low murmurs and barely stifled laughter as they decided whose side to take and what meddling might be necessary.

Across the room, you and Haerin were oblivious, still locked in your bubble. Her rant about tomatoes had derailed into a tangent about guacamole, and you hadn’t stopped smiling once.

“You’re not even listening, are you?” Her voice broke through your internal spiral.

“Huh?” You blinked, heart stuttering when you realized she was looking right at you, her head tilted slightly in mock suspicion.

“I said,” she leaned in closer, the scent of her shampoo soft but overwhelming in this moment, “you’re just nodding to everything I say.”

“I… agree with you?” you tried, hoping your smile wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

She laughed—a soft, melodic sound that made your chest ache.

“So, Valentine’s is coming up…” Her voice dropped a notch, softer now, almost hesitant.

Your heart skipped a beat. She let the sentence hang there, unfinished. Hope flickered in your chest, reckless and eager. Was this it? Was she—?

“…If you would like to help me with our booth?” she finished, though something in her voice wavered, like it wasn’t what she’d really meant to say.

Oh.

The flicker of hope sputtered, dimming.

“Hahaha…pleaseee...We’re friends, right?” Haerin laughed, but it was tight, strained. Her eyes broke away first, dropping to the textbook in front of her like it had all the answers she couldn’t find in this moment.

Her thoughts were spinning wildly, one plea looping on repeat. Please don’t say we are. Please don’t say we are. She just needed a sign—something to confirm that this wasn’t all in her head.

“Yeah, we are.” You nodded, forcing a smile, feeling the words land heavy on your tongue. "I'll help"

No, we aren’t.

But you said it anyway, and Haerin swallowed the ache that came with it.

She wished it were different. She wished you’d called her bluff.

You were perched at your desk, half-heartedly flipping through your notebook while trying to focus on your chemistry homework. "Focus, Y/N," you muttered, rubbing your temple. It was supposed to be a free day—a rare reprieve during the school festival, when most students were outside enjoying the chaos of booths and events. So why were you stuck inside, pretending to be productive?

Oh, right, because the last thing you needed was to run into her.

The mere thought made you groan, slumping further into your seat. It wasn’t like you were avoiding her—okay, maybe you were—but could anyone blame you? It was only a few weeks ago that you convinced yourself she’d friend-zoned you, and ever since, you’d been determined to distance yourself before your feelings spiraled further out of control.

You sighed, flipping a page. “This is fine,” you whispered, as if convincing yourself. After all, who needed cotton candy and cheap prizes when you had stoichiometry and self-loathing?

"Y/N!" A sudden pat on your shoulder startled you. You turned to see your seatmate, who gestured toward the door.

There, standing with unsettlingly grins, were Hanni and… Minji?

"Y/N L/N?" Hanni called out.

"Yeah?" you replied cautiously. That was all the confirmation they needed. In an instant, they were heading straight for you.

"Come with us," Minji said, not waiting for a response as she helped you up.

“Wait—what’s going on?” you asked, but Hanni was already tying a blindfold over your eyes.

"Am I getting kidnapped?” you muttered as Minji tugged you out of the classroom.

Several minutes of stumbling through hallways, bumping into walls, and almost tripping down the stairs later, they finally guided you into another room.

You heard hurried shuffling and faint whispers before everything went eerily quiet.

Wait… was this their booth?

Your mind flickered back to something Minji had mentioned yesterday about a wedding booth, and unease crept up your spine. Before you could say anything, wedding music suddenly blasted through the room.

"EVERYONE PLEASE TAKE YOUR SEATS, THE CEREMONY IS ABOUT TO BEGIN!!" Ryujin’s unmistakable voice echoed through a microphone, and the room erupted in cheers and laughter.

"Hold up—" you started, but Hanni and Minji were already leading you onto what felt like a raised platform. A veil was suddenly placed over your head, and you could only stand there, bewildered.

"Today, we are gathered here at this most sacred… uh, classroom corner… to witness the union of these two lovely individuals!" Ryujin’s voice rang out again, brimming with mock seriousness.

Laughter and cheers filled the room again, but one pair of eyes wasn’t laughing.

"You may now remove your blindfolds!" Ryujin announced dramatically.

Your hands fumbled behind your head, untying the knot. As the cloth slipped from your face, you blinked, your vision adjusting to the light

What the hell?

Hyein leaned against the booth’s table, lazily sipping on a soda while sneaking glances at Haerin. Perfect timing. Right on cue, she spotted Minji and Hanni practically manhandling you down the hallway. You, blindfolded, were stumbling and muttering protests while they cackled like maniacs.

“Oh. My. GOD!” Hyein gasped dramatically, slamming her soda can down on the table.

Haerin looked up, “What?”

“Do you SEE that?!” Hyein pointed, her eyes wide. “Minji and Hanni are—oh my gosh—they’re dragging Y/N! AND she's blindfolded!”

Haerin’s brows furrowed, her gaze immediately snapping to you being dragged down the corridor. “Why are they—”

“No idea,” Hyein interrupted, grabbing Haerin’s arm with a gasp that was so over-the-top it bordered on comical. “But we havee to follow them. What if they’re kidnapping Y/N?!”

"Why are you speaking like tha—"

“Come ON!” Hyein didn’t give her time to finish, already tugging her along.

"Dude?"

And there he was—Hyunjin. In a suit. Or, more accurately, some half-baked attempt at one. He stood in front of the makeshift wedding booth, the blindfold finally off, wearing an expression that screamed he'd rather be anywhere else.

Your eyes widened. “Uh… what is this?”

Hyunjin tugged at the collar of his ill-fitting costume. “Wedding booth,” he said flatly. “Don’t look at me—I got roped into this. Apparently, someone actually paid for it, so just… play along.”

10 minutes ago...

Hyunjin groaned dramatically as Minji and Hanni hauled him through the hallway, his sneakers dragging against the tiled floor. "I’m on Y/N’s side. Why am I even helping you guys?"

"Just shut up," Minji snapped, yanking his arm harder. Hyunjin stumbled over something on the floor—probably an abandoned textbook, or maybe just his own pride.

"Minji, you’re on Y/N’s side too, you traitor—ow!" He gasped in mock betrayal as she gave him a little shove.

"The bet is off," Hanni groaned, throwing her hands in the air. "It’ll be the apocalypse before they confess to each other. We’ve given them so many chances."

“Exactly,” Hyunjin grumbles. “Why are we still doing this then?”

“Because we’re desperate,” Minji retorts, dragging him forward. “Now quit whining.”

"Fine, whatever, but is the blindfold really necessary?" Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows, trying to peek under the fabric tied snugly over his eyes.

"Yes," Minji said firmly, steering him to the right. "Watch your step."

They stopped outside a classroom door, and Hyunjin immediately perked up at the sound of Ryujin’s voice.

"Jin! Good, you’re here." Ryujin slapped a bundle of fabric to his chest. "Here, put this on."

"What's this?" Hyunjin asked, holding the mysterious item at arm’s length.

"It’s a costume, obviously," Ryujin said, barely hiding her amusement. "Hurry up! They already went to fetch her."

Hyunjin groaned again, "Can I at least take off the blindfold?"

"No."

“What… is this?” Haerin asked,

“OhHh my god,” Hyein whispered, nudging her. “It’s a wedding booth! Look, they’re marrying Y/N and Hyunjin. Isn’t that, like, sooo cute?”

Haerin’s jaw tightened as she stared at the setup, something twisting in her chest. “It’s… stupid,” she muttered.

“Dearly beloved,” Ryujin began, her voice overly solemn, “we are gathered here today to witness the union of Y/N and Hyunjin in holy—uh—festival matrimony.”

The room filled with laughter as Ryujin continued, but Haerin stood frozen near the doorway.

It's just a booth.

A stupid booth. She repeated the thought like a mantra, but it did little to supress the sharp ache in her chest. Her fists tightened at her sides.

"Now, Hyunjin, do you take Y/N to be your unlawfully wedded wife in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and be true to her in all things until death alone shall part you?" Ryujin said, trying way too hard to sound like a pastor. She squinted at Hyunjin, her expression screaming, just go along with it, dude.

"I do," Hyunjin sighed, finally giving in.

Ryujin nodded and turned to you, clipboard in hand. "And Y/N, do you take Hyunjin to be your unlawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and be true to him in all things until death alone shall part you?"

You hesitated, glancing at the amused faces around you. "I guess…?"

From the sidelines, Hyein smirked and nudged Haerin. “They’re actually doing it. You’re just gonna stand there and let Y/N and Hyunjin get fake-married?”

Haerin’s chest tightened. Her breath hitched, sharp and uneven. “It’s just a booth, Hyein,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Yeah, Haerin. Just a booth.

But if it was just a booth, why did this feel like someone had pulled the ground out from under her?

Why did it feel… real?

"Then by the power vested in me—”

Hanni nudged Ryujin. “Dude, you forgot the thing.”

“Right,” Ryujin cleared her throat, adjusting her glasses for effect. “Before we proceed, if anyone has objections to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Haerin froze. Her mind was suddenly everywhere and nowhere. Did she even have the right to object? It was a school festival. A dumb booth for laughs. But watching you stand there with Hyunjin (WITH A MAN.)—it made her stomach twist like she’d swallowed barbed wire.

“Haerin,” Hyein whispered, her voice low and teasing. “You’re just gonna let this happen?”

“I—” Haerin’s voice caught in her throat, sticking like gum.

Ryujin glanced up, sensing the hesitation. “Any objections?” she repeated, louder this time, her words hanging in the air like a challenge.

You turned your head, searching for her in the crowd. Your eyes locked onto hers, and for one fleeting second, you silently pleaded. You wished—no, hoped—she’d say something. Anything.

But she didn’t.

Haerin stood there, lips pressed shut, heart pounding like it was trying to make up for her silence.

The pause dragged on, and with it, everyone’s expectations crumbled.

Ryujin sighed. “Alright then. Let’s proceed.”

“By the power vested in me, by solid, liquid, and gas—”

“Ryujin, stop,” Hanni groaned.

“Fine. I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

“You may now kiss—”

“I OBJECT!”

The words burst out before Haerin even realized what she was saying. Her hand shot up on instinct—like it always did in class. But this time, for the first time, she didn’t have the answer. She didn’t know what to say next.

Everyone froze. The air seemed to thicken as all eyes turned to her. Hyein stifled a laugh behind her soda straw while Ryujin’s jaw dropped in mock disbelief. Minji, Danielle, and Hanni exchanged victorious smirks, clearly pleased their plan had worked.

Haerin stood stiffly, her chest tight and her fists clenched at her sides. Her heart raced as she realized the weight of what she’d just done.

Okay, what now?

What was she supposed to say next?

This wasn’t part of the plan—except there was no plan.

Her eyes found you.

And suddenly, she knew.

Without a word, Haerin marched toward the altar, her resolve as sharp as the gasp that rippled through the crowd. She grabbed your wrist, her grip firm but not rough, and pulled you out of the classroom.

You were perched at your desk, half-heartedly flipping through your notebook while trying to focus on your chemistry homework. "Focus, Y/N," you muttered, rubbing your temple. It was supposed to be a free day—a rare reprieve during the school festival, when most students were outside enjoying the chaos of booths and events. So why were you stuck inside, pretending to be productive?

Oh, right, because the last thing you needed was to run into her.

The mere thought made you groan, slumping further into your seat. It wasn’t like you were avoiding her—okay, maybe you were—but could anyone blame you? It was only a few weeks ago that you convinced yourself she’d friend-zoned you, and ever since, you’d been determined to distance yourself before your feelings spiraled further out of control.

You sighed, flipping a page. “This is fine,” you whispered, as if convincing yourself. After all, who needed cotton candy and cheap prizes when you had stoichiometry and self-loathing?

"Y/N!" A sudden pat on your shoulder startled you. You turned to see your seatmate, who gestured toward the door.

There, standing with unsettlingly grins, were Hanni and… Minji?

"Y/N L/N?" Hanni called out.

"Yeah?" you replied cautiously. That was all the confirmation they needed. In an instant, they were heading straight for you.

"Come with us," Minji said, not waiting for a response as she helped you up.

“Wait—what’s going on?” you asked, but Hanni was already tying a blindfold over your eyes.

"Am I getting kidnapped?” you muttered as Minji tugged you out of the classroom.

Several minutes of stumbling through hallways, bumping into walls, and almost tripping down the stairs later, they finally guided you into another room.

You heard hurried shuffling and faint whispers before everything went eerily quiet.

Wait… was this their booth?

Your mind flickered back to something Minji had mentioned yesterday about a wedding booth, and unease crept up your spine. Before you could say anything, wedding music suddenly blasted through the room.

"EVERYONE PLEASE TAKE YOUR SEATS, THE CEREMONY IS ABOUT TO BEGIN!!" Ryujin’s unmistakable voice echoed through a microphone, and the room erupted in cheers and laughter.

"Hold up—" you started, but Hanni and Minji were already leading you onto what felt like a raised platform. A veil was suddenly placed over your head, and you could only stand there, bewildered.

"Today, we are gathered here at this most sacred… uh, classroom corner… to witness the union of these two lovely individuals!" Ryujin’s voice rang out again, brimming with mock seriousness.

Laughter and cheers filled the room again, but one pair of eyes wasn’t laughing.

"You may now remove your blindfolds!" Ryujin announced dramatically.

Your hands fumbled behind your head, untying the knot. As the cloth slipped from your face, you blinked, your vision adjusting to the light

What the hell?

Hyein leaned against the booth’s table, lazily sipping on a soda while sneaking glances at Haerin. Perfect timing. Right on cue, she spotted Minji and Hanni practically manhandling you down the hallway. You, blindfolded, were stumbling and muttering protests while they cackled like maniacs.

“Oh. My. GOD!” Hyein gasped dramatically, slamming her soda can down on the table.

Haerin looked up, “What?”

“Do you SEE that?!” Hyein pointed, her eyes wide. “Minji and Hanni are—oh my gosh—they’re dragging Y/N! AND she's blindfolded!”

Haerin’s brows furrowed, her gaze immediately snapping to you being dragged down the corridor. “Why are they—”

“No idea,” Hyein interrupted, grabbing Haerin’s arm with a gasp that was so over-the-top it bordered on comical. “But we HAVE to follow them. What if they’re kidnapping Y/N?!”

"Why are you speaking like tha—"

“Come ON!” Hyein didn’t give her time to finish, already tugging her along.

"Dude?"

And there he was—Hyunjin. In a suit. Or, more accurately, some half-baked attempt at one. He stood in front of the makeshift wedding booth, the blindfold finally off, wearing an expression that screamed he'd rather be anywhere else.

Your eyes widened. “Uh… what is this?”

Hyunjin tugged at the collar of his ill-fitting costume, offering a sheepish smile. “Wedding booth,” he said flatly. “Don’t look at me—I got roped into this. Apparently, someone actually paid for it, so just… play along, I guess?”

Hyunjin groaned dramatically as Minji and Hanni hauled him through the hallway, his sneakers dragging against the tiled floor. "I’m on Y/N’s side. Why am I even helping you guys?"

"Just shut up," Minji snapped, yanking his arm harder. Hyunjin stumbled over something on the floor—probably an abandoned textbook, or maybe just his own pride.

"Minji, you’re on Y/N’s side too, you traitor—ow!" He gasped in mock betrayal as she gave him a little shove.

"The bet is off," Hanni groaned, throwing her hands in the air. "It’ll be the apocalypse before they confess to each other. We’ve given them so many chances."

“Exactly,” Hyunjin grumbles. “Why are we still doing this then?”

“Because we’re desperate,” Minji retorts, dragging him forward. “Now quit whining.”

"Fine, whatever, but is the blindfold really necessary?" Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows, trying to peek under the fabric tied snugly over his eyes.

"Yes," Minji said firmly, steering him to the right. "Watch your step."

They stopped outside a classroom door, and Hyunjin immediately perked up at the sound of Ryujin’s voice.

"Jin! Good, you’re here." Ryujin slapped a bundle of fabric to his chest. "Here, put this on."

"What's this?" Hyunjin asked, holding the mysterious item at arm’s length.

"It’s a costume, obviously," Ryujin said, barely hiding her amusement. "Hurry up! They already went to fetch her."

Hyunjin groaned again, "Can I at least take off the blindfold?"

"No."

“What… is this?” Haerin asked,

“OhHh my god,” Hyein whispered, nudging her. “It’s a wedding booth! Look, they’re marrying Y/N and Hyunjin. Isn’t that, like, so cute?”

Haerin’s jaw tightened as she stared at the setup, something twisting in her chest. “It’s… stupid,” she muttered.

“Dearly beloved,” Ryujin began, her voice overly solemn, “we are gathered here today to witness the union of Y/N and Hyunjin in holy—uh—festival matrimony.”

The room filled with laughter as Ryujin continued, but Haerin stood frozen near the doorway.

It was just a booth.

A stupid booth. She repeated the thought like a mantra, but it did little to quell the sharp ache in her chest. Her fists tightened at her sides.

"Now, Hyunjin, do you take Y/N to be your unlawfully wedded wife in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and be true to her in all things until death alone shall part you?" Ryujin said, trying way too hard to sound like a pastor. She squinted at Hyunjin, her expression screaming, just go along with it, dude.

"I do," Hyunjin sighed, finally giving in.

Ryujin nodded and turned to you, clipboard in hand. "And Y/N, do you take Hyunjin to be your unlawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and be true to him in all things until death alone shall part you?"

You hesitated, glancing at the amused faces around you. "I guess…?"

From the sidelines, Hyein smirked and nudged Haerin. “They’re actually doing it. You’re just gonna stand there and let Y/N and Hyunjin get fake-married?”

Haerin’s chest tightened. Her breath hitched, sharp and uneven. “It’s just a booth, Hyein,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Yeah, Haerin. Just a booth.

But if it was just a booth, why did this feel like someone had pulled the ground out from under her?

Why did it feel… real?

"Then by the power vested in me—”

Hanni nudged Ryujin. “Dude, you forgot the thing.”

“Right,” Ryujin cleared her throat, adjusting her glasses for effect. “Before we proceed, if anyone has objections to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Haerin froze. Her mind was suddenly everywhere and nowhere. Did she even have the right to object? It was a school festival. A dumb booth for laughs. But watching you stand there with Hyunjin(WITH A MAN.)—it made her stomach twist like she’d swallowed barbed wire.

“Haerin,” Hyein whispered, her voice low and teasing. “You’re just gonna let this happen?”

“I—” Haerin’s voice caught in her throat, sticking like gum.

Ryujin glanced up, sensing the hesitation. “Any objections?” she repeated, louder this time, her words hanging in the air like a challenge.

You turned your head, searching for her in the crowd. Your eyes locked onto hers, and for one fleeting second, you silently pleaded. You wished—no, hoped—she’d say something. Anything.

But she didn’t.

Haerin stood there, lips pressed shut, heart pounding like it was trying to make up for her silence.

The pause dragged on, and with it, everyone’s expectations crumbled.

Ryujin sighed. “Alright then. Let’s proceed.”

“By the power vested in me, by solid, liquid, and gas—”

“Ryujin, stop,” Hanni groaned.

“Fine. I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

The crowd clapped awkwardly.

“You may now kiss—”

“I OBJECT!”

The words burst out before Haerin even realized what she was saying. Her hand shot up on instinct—like it always did in class. But this time, for the first time, she didn’t have the answer. She didn’t know what to say next.

Everyone froze. The air seemed to thicken as all eyes turned to her. Hyein stifled a laugh behind her soda straw while Ryujin’s jaw dropped in mock disbelief. Minji, Danielle, and Hanni exchanged victorious smirks, clearly pleased their plan had worked.

Haerin stood stiffly, her chest tight and her fists clenched at her sides. Her heart raced as she realized the weight of what she’d just done.

Okay, what now?

What was she supposed to say next?

This wasn’t part of the plan—except there was no plan.

Her eyes found you.

And suddenly, she knew.

Without a word, Haerin marched toward the altar, her resolve as sharp as the gasp that rippled through the crowd. She grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the classroom.

“Okay, I appreciate you saving me back there, but where are we going?” you asked, trying to keep pace as Haerin dragged you down the hall.

She didn’t answer. Her grip was firm—not rough—but she wasn’t slowing down either. The faint chatter of the festival behind you started to fade, leaving only the sound of your footsteps echoing down the empty hallway. Finally, she stopped outside an unused classroom, chest rising and falling like she’d just finished a sprint.

“Haerin,” you tried again, but she turned to face you. Her eyes were locked on yours, a mix of determination and something else you couldn’t pin down. It made your stomach do that annoying flip thing it had no business doing.

“I—” she started, then stopped, running a hand through her hair like she was stalling for time. “Ugh, this is so… messy. I don’t even know where to start.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How about with why you just crashed my fake wedding?”

“Because—” she stopped again, visibly bracing herself. “Okay, I’m just going to say this before I lose my nerve.” Her voice was steady, but she kept fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. “I… like you. A lot. And not in the ‘begrudging respect’ way or whatever you’re probably imagining.

Your brain short-circuited for a second. “…What?”

“I’m serious,” she said quickly, “I didn’t plan on this happening. You hated me back then, and honestly? Same. But somewhere along the way, I started noticing things.” Her voice softened, like she was remembering each detail as she spoke.

“Like how you always hum when you’re concentrating—off-key, by the way, but it’s cute.” She smiled a little, her cheeks coloring. “And the way you tuck your chin into your sweater when you’re cold, even if it stretches out the neck. Or how you always carry extra pens even though you lose them half the time, just so no one else runs out during class.”

She glanced at you, then quickly away, like she wasn’t sure she should keep going. But she did.

“You chew your bottom lip when you’re trying not to laugh. And you never drink the last sip of your coffee because you think it tastes weird—but you’ll still offer it to someone else like it’s no big deal.”

Her gaze dropped to her hands, but then she looked back at you, like she was steadying herself. “At first, it was just curiosity. You’re loud, opinionated, stubborn. Basically everything I’m not. But working on that project with you? I don’t know—you made me want to do better. For once, I didn’t want to screw around and ruin things. Not when you were watching.”

She laughed softly, more at herself than anything else. “And the worst part? I wanted you to notice me. Not the version everyone else sees, but the real me. The screw-up who pretends not to care but actually does. And when the project ended, I realized…” She hesitated, her voice quieter now. “You make me feel like—”

You didn’t let her finish. Grabbing her collar, you pulled her into a kiss. It wasn’t smooth—your noses bumped, and it was kind of messy—but it got the point across. For once, her brain seemed to stop overthinking. She froze for half a second, then leaned into it, her hands hovering awkwardly near your shoulders before finally resting there.

When you pulled back, she looked completely stunned. Her eyes were wide, lips parted, like her brain was buffering. Then, slowly, the corner of her mouth curved into the tiniest smirk.

“I wasn’t done,” she muttered, her voice steady again.

“But I’ll take it.”

“LET’S GOOOOOO!”

Both of you jolted apart like you’d been electrocuted, turning toward the doorway as the sound of cheers and a confetti pop filled the air. Minji and Hanni stood there grinning like lunatics, Hanni holding a party popper in one hand and Minji, holding a camera.

Haerin groaned, her face going so red you thought she might actually combust.

“Haerin!” Hanni teased, drawing out her name with a dramatic gasp. “You didn’t tell us you were capable of romance!”

“Stop.” Haerin sputtered, flailing a hand in their direction.

“Not the Haerin confessing her feelings AND kissing someone all in one day,” Hyein added, clutching her chest like she was genuinely overwhelmed. “Who are you, and what did you do with the monotone gremlin we know?”

You covered your face, torn between laughing and dying of secondhand embarrassment. “You guys followed us?”

“Obviously,” Hanni said with zero shame. “How else were we supposed to know if she’d finally grow some balls?”

“Haerin, the WAYY you went full rom-com just now? We’re so proud,” Minji added, wiping an imaginary tear. “The heartfelt speech, the kiss—it’s like a movie.”

Ryujin smirked, tilting her head toward Haerin. “For someone who I usually hear speak in, like, three-word sentences, that was… impressive.”

“Right?” Hyunjin chimed in, still crouched dramatically. “Ten out of ten performance. I might actually cry. WAIT- Someone get me tissues.”

"Our Haerin is so grown up now." Danielle sighs

“For real, I feel like a proud bird mother watching her child fly,” Minji mock-sobbed, dabbing her eyes with her sleeve.

Haerin groaned again, burying her face in her hands. You reached out and gently bumped your shoulder against hers. “For what it’s worth, I thought it was cute,” you said, grinning.

She peeked at you from between her fingers, still red-faced but smiling despite herself. “You’re not helping.”

“Good. You owe me after dragging me through half the school, my arm's kinda sore.”

[thotsfortherapy]

y'all I have finally breached the subject of my terrible housemate with the other ppl we live with (who are also close mutual friends) and they have also noticed the weird vibes and are siding with me... Which is very big for them cause they hate confrontation and admitting that there is any sort of problem so 👀👀 it feels like things are Happening

[finelinevogue]

OMG imagine kit and reader begin co stars in something and people making those compilations of them that are like “____ and ____ acting like a couple for 12 minutes and seven seconds straight” 🤭🤭🤭

oh im SOOO on for this🤭✨

the compilation

summary - you and kit are secretly dating but the fans are too perceptive and make a montage of your flirtiest moments

pairing - kit connor x co-star!reader

🫧🎥🫧🎬🫧🎥🫧🎬🫧🎥🫧🎬🫧🎥🫧🎬🫧

The video started with a short video of Kit being filmed for an interview, where he had to describe his co-star.

“What do I think about Y/N in 5 words?” He asked the man behind the camera.

The reporter confirmed the question and waited for Kit to respond.

“I don’t think there’s 5 words that are good enough.” Kit mumbled to himself but the microphone attached to him picked it up.

The rest of the people in the interview room swooned, but Kit was too busy trying to come up with a good enough answer to see.

“Okay…” Kit sat up straight, ready to answer properly.

“Kind. I know it’s a basic one, but it’s just true.”

“Funny. I’ve never known someone who could make me belly laugh before Y/N.”

“Compassionate. No matter how hard Y/N’s day is, you will always be granted a hug.” Kit laughed at that one, hearing how cheesy he sounded.

“Unpredictable. I feel like that needs no explanation.”

“And….” Kit smirked then, the camera zooming in on it, as he tried to think of an appropriate thing to say last, “I’ll go with safe.”

“Safe?” An interviewer questions.

“Yeah.” Kit responded with no intention to explain himself.

Once you watched the interview you would know exactly what he meant though, because you felt just as safe with Kit as he did with you.

🌊.

The next few clips were a compilation of videos that had been secretly recorded of you two from set or from friends.

The movie you’d been filming together had been a romance, which had only magnified your relationship seeing as you’d actually met through a mutual friend; Joe.

Joe would argue that he was the reason you were together. Kit would argue that it was his charm solely that got you together. You would argue that it was a bit of both, just to keep the peace.

The first clip that played was from a day that you visited the Heartstopper set.

You, Joe and Kit were all laying in “Nick’s” bed, laughing at something that Kit had just said. It must have been ridiculously funny because the next thing that happened was you rolling off the edge of the bed and onto the floor with a thump.

Kit had rolled to try and catch you but the thump on the floor suggested otherwise. The situation only made you laugh harder.

The second clip was something from Joe’s Instagram story, where he was filming a group of you walking down the River Thames. You were hitching a ride on Kit’s back, his arms around your legs that were wrapped around his waist. Your arms dangling around his neck and your cheek pressed against his.

The third clip was on the set of your new movie together.

You were both in Kit’s trailer and practicing some lines.

“You said you didn’t care!” You shouted, playing your character Rosa.

“Well I lied. I do care.” Kit shouted back, looking from his script to your face, playing his character Oscar.

“You’re insufferable.” You groaned.

“I’m sorry that me trying to figure out my feelings for you is insufferable.”

“F-feelings?” You questioned, your voice going quieter.

“I thought I was being obvious.” Kit chuckled, “Did you not think that there might’ve been a reason I cared that you kissed Danny?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I cared because I wished you’d been kissing me instead.”

Then Kit broke character and launched himself on you, pretending to kiss you all over. You were belly laughing as Kit crushed himself over you, pushing you into the leather sofa that you’d been sitting on.

“Kit get off!” You laughed and then the video cut, leaving the viewers to question what happened next and curse whoever had decided to stop recording.

🌊.

The video then cut to an interview you’d done together and it had gone viral mainly for the way Kit had been looking at you throughout the whole thing.

It had been a normal interview and yet Kit had been feeling the extra love towards you that day, so he sat and watched you answer lovingly.

There had even been a point where he got caught, but that hadn’t worried him.

“And Kit? Your answer?” The interviewer asked.

He looked from you to the interviewer, realising he’d been asked something.

“Oh I’m so sorry. Could you repeat the question please?” He laughed it off, as did you and the interviewer.

“I was just wondering what attracted you to the role of Oscar?”

Kit hummed with a smile, forcing himself to not say your name as the answer. You nudged his shoulder to pull him out of his head.

“I think….”

🌊.

Then there was the interview where you’d been really anxious in.

It had been a rubbish day from start to finish, mainly because the anxiety weighing on your chest had been so heavy all day.

It was in an interview close to the end of the day that the small, intimate, moment came from.

“And I think that’s why we resonate–.” The interviewer was talking.

“I’m so sorry, can we stop for one moment please.” You interrupted in the most polite way you could.

“Yeah of course.” The interviewer nodded, sitting patiently.

It was not unknown that you suffered with anxiety, in fact you were pretty open about it. Why hide something that was such a huge part of you, especially when you were in a position where you could help break the stigma surrounding it.

Kit swerved his body so the cameras could no longer see you, just see his back. He knew the cameras would keep rolling and your mics would stay on, but he was trying to do whatever would be most comfortable for you.

“I’m sorry.” You could be heard saying.

Kit’s hands could be seen moving around to meet yours, both of your hands situated in your lap now. You’d often spoken out about how physical touch can ground you in these situations.

“No. Don’t be sorry.” Kit said, waiting for you to give the signal on whether he should or shouldn’t keep talking.

“Just felt a panic attack coming and I wanted to calm it before it actually came.”

Kit nodded.

“You did good. You’re doing good.”

“Thank you.” You whispered.

It was at least another three minutes before you felt okay enough to mentally return to the room. Kit turned back around in his chair, but kept ahold of your hand with his.

You apologised to the interviewer again, but she was completely fine with it and the producers had allowed her to regain her allotted interview time.

“Would you mind keeping that footage? I would quite like to share it to show that even ‘celebrities’ can feel like rubbish sometimes.” You laughed, Kit squeezing your hand in the process.

“Of course.”

“Ready?” Kit asked you once more. You nodded and the interview continued, Kit holding your hand for the rest of it and then for the rest of the day.

🌊.

The video ended the same way it began.

It was a similar interview to Kit’s, where you got asked to describe Kit in 5 words.

You couldn’t help but smile, because you love sharing the love so much - especially when it’s about your boyfriend who you care about a lot.

“Loyal. He’s so loyal to his friends and family.”

“Kind. He has so much love in his heart and he always shows it in the little moments.”

“Artistic. I don’t think he would agree, but he is.”

“Magnetic. Kit just attracts anyone and everyone to him, you can’t help but love him.”

“And one more?” The interviewer asked.

You pondered for a moment.

“Grumpy. You would not believe how much of a grump he is in a morning.” You laughed, not even thinking about the repercussions of admitting that you see Kit in the mornings.

It’s not a surprise that you’re both trending the next day and there’s a million theories about you two. Hence why the compilation video is made.

[fawnindawn]

even at our worst, we know we'll still be okay (luke castellan x apollo fem! reader)

summary: Where Percy's insistent pestering forces Luke to rethink on his possibly not platonic feelings for you, his best friend, and Percy's questions are answered for him with Luke's reaction to you being heavily injured on your return from your quest.

pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader

a/n: i'm actually in love with this, maybe it's just the friends-to-lovers in me (where a love confession happens because one of them was near death's door-) but man.. also, i love including percy so much he's such a kid.

masterlist for this series next

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"Face it, man. You're whipped."

Percy watched Luke choke on his water, coughing as he tried to swallow past the sudden accusation. Wiping at the excess that dripped past his chin, Luke raised a brow at Percy.

"Whipped? For who?" Luke questioned, eyes averting and staring straight ahead, beyond the training grounds towards the meadows in the distance, seemingly searching for something or just doing a poor job at avoiding Percy’s unimpressed stare.

“I’m not blind, as much as Annabeth claims, to this...love stuff.” Percy huffed, half in exasperation and half in exhaustion as he leaned forward using his sword to balance himself. “You’ve been depressed ever since she left for her quest.”

Luke doesn’t need to hear your name to know who Percy was referring to. It’s been weeks since you were chosen by your father, Apollo, to descend on some mighty quest to fetch back his lyre that had been stolen. It wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous quest, but Luke had felt his gut sinking when he first heard the news from you.

“Why does he need to send you out there, where you could possibly be tracked down by monsters to get back a musical instrument of all things?” Luke snapped, exasperated as he runs his fingers through his curls, pacing back and forth in the Hermes Cabin, while you laid on his mattress looking undeniably calmer than he was.

“Luke, my dad won’t purposely send me on some death trap. I'll be fine.” You tried to reassure him, waiting for him to calm down in his pacing before you extended your hands in his direction right as he turned to make another round through the cabin for the seventh time. “Hey, come here.” You gestured. “Sit with me.”

He hesitated, stopping in his tracks as he finally took the time to look at you, noting your concerned expression at him. As if you weren’t about to descend on some ridiculous quest to god knows where all because your father couldn’t pluck up the effort to collect the instrument himself.

The longer your hands stayed outstretched for him, the more his anger and frustration dissolved into the overwhelming need to be near you. One second, he’s standing and the next, he’s laying in bed with you, your arms wrapped around him to stabilise him even though he should be the stronger one. The one to look out for you.

Laying his head on your shoulder as he wrapped one of his fingers around your hair, curling it in his palms, he spoke again in a soft whisper only for you to hear. “I’m worried.”

“I know.” You responded, your hands tracing at the curve of his shoulder, stopping at his collarbone, before your finger moved to tilt his face by the chin to look at you. “You trust me, right?” You ask, knowing his answer but wanting to hear the reassurance all the same.

“Course' I do.” He replied immediately, his eyes intense as he made eye contact with you. That was without question. You could ask him to walk into blazing flames, and he'd trust you would ask for good reason.

“Then you can trust that I’ll make it back alive.”

“Alive can mean lots of things.” He muttered, his eyes growing distant, the ghost of blood and a stinging burn running down the half of his face appearing uninvited in his mind.

“I’ll make it back alive and unharmed.” You reiterated, a knowing look in your eyes as you unconsciously traced at his scar, leaving warmth where it resides, making him shiver instinctively. “It’s a promise, Luke.”

He stayed silent, before slowly moving his hand to cup yours that rested over his scar. “I’m counting on it, sunshine.”

That promise rested over Luke’s conscience, gnawing at the back of his heels, chasing him daily from the early hours as he forced himself not to break over the stress and anxiety before putting on his golden boy facade, to pretend that he wasn't constantly distracted and nauseous over the thought of something happening to you without him being there to protect you.

He would've snuck out of camp if he could, just to find you, but Chiron had been tight-lipped on your destination, his all-knowing gaze piercing right through Luke when he had tried to nonchalantly ask about your whereabouts.

"I wish I could help you, Luke." Chiron had told Luke a few days after you had gone. "However, Apollo's request was clear. Only she shall take on this quest. No one else." The pin-point gaze Chiron had locked onto Luke made it clear he was talking about him.

"I am not whipped." Luke denied. "She's my friend. Like how you're my friend."

"I don't think your friendship with her is normal though." Percy fired back quickly, sipping on his own water as if he didn't casually demolish the older boy. "I swear I caught you bringing her back after curfew to your cabin, a few times in fact."

Luke felt his cheeks flush at Percy's sudden interrogation, smashing facts after facts on an early Tuesday morning. "I've been having.. nightmares lately. She's the only one who keeps them away." He didn't know why he felt like he had to explain himself to the kid, but the longer his friendship with you went under fire, the faster he wanted to get out of this conversation.

"You don't think that's something you should think deeper about?" Percy muttered with a shrug.

Luke is left speechless, his mind short-cutting at the sudden implication of.. him feeling something more for you? His most recent memories flashed through his mind. You tucked under his blanket as you laid beside him for the last night before your quest, a sleepy smile etched on your lips before you whispered him goodnight and he pulled you into his chest so he could feel your heart beating against his to push away any tricks currently playing on his mind, bringing light to how you're the only person he believes could calm him down and bring him peace-

"She's my best friend." Luke replied, more to himself than to Percy. "I'm just worried for her. A quest like that shouldn't take so long, and I keep imagining-"

He stopped in his tracks, not wanting to say his fears out in the open in fear that his words would jinx it, but Percy knew where he was getting at. Percy inched closer to Luke, moving to pat him awkwardly on the back in an effort to comfort him. "It's normal to be worried. From what I heard from Annabeth, you two are really close. I didn't have much conversations with her before she left, but she seems brave, and smart too. I have no doubts she'll make it back. If she's half as good as you, there's no way she wouldn't."

Luke felt a real smile crossing his face, the corners of his lips quirked up at Percy's words. "She's not half as good- she is better than me." He turned to look at Percy, that shine in his eyes noticeable as he talked about you. "Don't let her hear that when she gets back though, she'll talk my ear off for ages."

Percy returned his own smile, elated to see Luke have some improvement in his mood, proof being the first genuine smile Percy's seen in weeks coming from him.

"So.. do you want to stop for today?" Percy attempted with a casual tone.

"Why? Backing out already?" Luke teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he inched towards the kid jokingly with his sword raised.

"No!" Percy denied frantically. "I swear I'm not using the sympathy card as an excuse to get out of training-"

The sounds of a horn cut off his words, groaning across the camp, reaching the training grounds in record time. Luke felt his heart palpitate, nearly crashing into his rib cage.

He barely had time to think, yelling to Percy with urgency flying off his tongue. "Catch you later, Perce!" Then, he was off, his legs carrying him up the hills and back towards the camp entrance.

He heard Percy yell his name in confusion, but he could apologise later for his sudden departure.

You had come back to him.

The journey seemed too long, his shoes scrambling for ground, barely scraping the dirt as he ran towards the front of camp. He didn't know what to expect, a celebration with cheers from the other campers on your arrival, a glimpse of your face with that smile he loves. What he didn't expect was the silence as he came towards a slow jog before ultimately stopping at what seemed to be a crowd gathering around something- or someone.

He pushed his way through, barely making the effort to apologise over the thought of seeing you. His eyes finally caught onto what the onlookers were staring at, and his heart dropped.

You laid on the ground, passed out with what seemed to be dark, angry coils covering your skin, ranging from your neck to the outstretch of your back that was exposed from the gash in your shirt. That stupid lyre laid not too far from you, its golden strings ripped apart.

The sound that tore from his throat barely sounded like his voice, yelling out your name as he pushed through the final barrier in the crowd before reaching for you. He nearly made it before someone dragged him back, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away.

The curses that left Luke's mouth would make anyone wince, and he had to resist the urge to punch whoever was holding him back as he twisted his head to face his repressor. "Chris! Get out of my way." Luke hissed, still trying to make his way to you, fury twisting in his gut as he couldn't fathom why no one's helped you yet.

"Calm down, Luke!" Chris pleaded, desperation in his eyes forcing Luke to falter. "I know you want to help her but you have to listen to me. Whatever attacked her left something contagious on her body. Someone already tried helping her but it spread to their skin too!"

Wait? While whatever was attacking your body seemed to grow more intense by the minute, as Luke's gaze locked onto your form and watched the sickening, black coils spread further and further up your neck.

"Rodriguez, does it look like I care if it spreads to me?" Luke spat out, giving his friend a final push. "If she dies, I won't ever forgive myself for standing on the sidelines. Let me go now."

The cold venom in his tone made his friend loosen his hold just enough for Luke to rip himself out of his arms to drop his knees beside you. He grabbed hold of your shoulder, which still had shreds of your shirt to prevent him from being stung by whatever was infecting you, but his other hand which grabbed hold of your back did not face the same fate. The coils snaked onto his palm, and he gritted his teeth at the burning sensation.

Just as he turned you around so he could lift you up, he heard the familiar sound of hooves stamping against the soil and he looked up to see Chiron approaching with a grim expression. No words needed to be said as Luke met eyes with the centaur, a mutual understanding as Luke wrapped his arms around your torso and legs.

He pushed through to help carry you up, barking orders for the crowd to part way as he made his way to the infirmary. The longer he held onto you, the more every bone in his body seemed to scream to let you go, but he only focused on every step it took to get you closer to help, his eyes unable to look away from the paleness of your skin, the blue to your lips.

It seemed unfit for a child of Apollo, a child of the sun, to be dull and lifeless. You looked dead, and if it wasn't for the faint drumming of your pulse he could sense from your wrist, he would've struck the name of your father with such unbridled hatred, Apollo himself would descend from the heavens to condemn him.

"Please." He begged, holding onto you tighter despite his body's cries not to. Begging to who, he did not know, but if any being could save you from the fate you did not deserve, and pass it to him instead, he would gladly offer his prayers and worship. If it meant saving you, he would take your pain and suffer it tenfold just to see you open your eyes again.

It took you five days to recover. The infirmary had been quarantined and no one save for Chiron and Will, the main healer from the Apollo cabin, was allowed in. In those five days, no one dared approach Luke, who seemed near death's door despite having received his own small dosage of ambrosia to heal the coils that had managed to sink into his skin. He had begged Chiron to let him visit you, but Chiron deemed him too unstable to be near you, your recovery process a fragile thing that required tentative hands and patience.

Waiting to see you was a torture not even he could have envisioned for himself. He had been torn apart at the seams, of his belief in the gods and the scars that were immortalized onto his body. He had lived through days of water and nothing but false hope, hiding from monsters and other horrors before he made it to camp, arriving as a scrawny boy with eyes having witnessed events no kid his age should have to go through. Yet, no pain he had experienced could compare to his fears of losing you. If he-

He couldn't think of it without wanting to puke, but if he lost you somehow, he would lose his faith in this world. There would be no one to hold him back, no you, to stop him from letting go of the world that failed him and tearing it down.

It didn't help that in those five days, he had dreams. Of a different world, of salvation. A dark, ancient voice called to him, older than time, with whispers of promised glory and revenge. There was no you, none of your soothing touches or voice to wake him. In those five days, his strength faltered and he made a deal.

On the sixth day, he was woken frantically by a shake on the shoulder from his sleep. He roused awake, dizzy and still-half asleep to see Chris talking to him in rushed incoherent words.

"Awake- She's awake, sleepy-head!"

Luke was half-dressed, still fighting off sleep with aggressive rubbing to his eyes as he tugged on his t-shirt, rushing towards the infirmary with Chris hot on his heels.

He burst through the front door, holding his breath when he finally saw you, propped up on two pillows talking to Will. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision as he rushed over to you.

You turned to him then, just in time to see him blink his tears away. "Luke." You called to him softly, and time seemed to stop just for the two of you, and he could only see you in his vision.

"Can you guys give us some privacy?" You asked politely, eyeing Will and Chris, but your eyes never drifted far before moving back to him.

"Of course." Will responded, quickly getting up from his chair towards the exit, dragging a confounded Chris with him with a tug on the back of his shirt. "Hey! I wanted to see her too-" "Give the two lovebirds some time alone, you idiot."

Luke inched closer to you, his heart beating so loudly in his eardrums he swears you could hear it too. You lifted your arms to him and he didn't waste time, taking you in his arms and embracing you so tight, and yet he felt he couldn't be close enough.

"You were dying. In my arms. I felt it when I carried you in here." He muttered into your shoulder, shaking as he finally let out the exhaustion and pain he had been feeling since the day you left.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." You apologised, rocking him back and forth as your voice croaked up. "All I thought of was you. When I fought against that beast, I kept repeating my promise to you. That I would come back to you. You saved me."

He shook his head, feeling his tears wet his cheeks as he pulled back to grab you by the chin, a gentle touch like he was afraid you would disappear if he couldn't see you talking to him, that your voice would be a hallucination he concocted. "I should've stopped you from going. I had a bad feeling since I heard about it. I should've protected you- prevented you from getting hurt in the first place-"

You stopped him with a kiss, desperate yet shy, before pulling away and pressing your forehead to his. "I love you, Luke. I was so scared I would never get to tell you and it would've been my biggest regret. I love you so much, Luke, and I'm sorry if this ruins anything between us but I can't hide it anymore-"

Luke cut you off the very same way you did, but with such intense hunger you gasped when he kissed you, sloppy and with even more desperation, tugging at your bottom lip and pulling you closer with his hand at nape of your neck. "I love you." He muttered through quick breaths. "I love you, it actually hurts because of how much I do." He admitted, grabbing your hand to place right above his heart, which is owned completely and only by you.

He leaned in once more, addicted to the taste of you, kissing you with one hand holding yours to his heart, the other pulling you close so that there was no space between the two of you. When he had to stop so you both could gasp for air, he pressed his forehead back to yours, the first smile stretching at his lips in days. "I never want to be apart from you ever again, you hear me, sunshine?"

You giggled at his words, nodding slightly. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Extra: Luke reappears with you the next day when you insisted on wanting to get out of the infirmary after being cooped up away from the sun for so long. ("You're such an Apollo kid." Luke teases, which you ignore with a roll of your eyes.) He's with you every step of the way, and now that your feelings are out for each other in the open, he doesn't hesitate to kiss you on the cheek or fawn over you without hiding his intensity.

When he makes eye contact with Percy over the room, the damn kid gives him a wink and a thumbs-up.

a/n: i want to expand so much more on this, with kronos taking advantage of luke's weak mind during your recovery and more, OMGGGGGGG. tell me if you guys want more pls and i'll make more parts. thank you for reading if you made it this far <3

update: I am officially making this into a series called ‘everything in between’. To those who want to follow more on their story, you can comment on whether you want to be added to the tag list for this series or check the masterlist!

[rin-may-1103]

The Wrong Robin Au (part three)

Previous | Master Post | Next

Danny never said he knew what he was doing, but he thinks he's doing something right if the kid hasn't started crying yet. so you know, that's great. now, he just needed to get the kid out of here, so Danny could have a moment to mourn his retirement plans.

He wasn't going to blame the kid, ancients know Danny would have gone back to hero work eventually. He just couldn't let things go if he could help it, and he could in this situation.

"Alright, here's the plan." Danny announced, slapping his legs as he stood up. "it's late, you're a kid who needs sleep. let's get you home, then we can get a game plan on how to do this."

Tim had been nodding his head, even if it was reluctantly, before freezing in sudden realization. Danny raised his eyebrow in question, wondering what was wrong now.

"you want my help?" Tim asked, absolutely gobsmacked.

Oh, the kid thought Danny was just going to send him away like any reasonable adult would. Ha, Danny wished. but no. He had no clue what he was doing and this kid was his only trump card for making any of the half-assed plans still forming in his head work. AND he had a feeling if he didn't keep Tim close by, the kid would run off and do something stupid.

"Yep," Danny snorted, "you were smart enough to figure out who Batman was, and then you decided to take it upon yourself to help him; whether by convincing me to do it or yourself."

"Now then," Danny said as he walked over to the couch and pulled his hoodie from under Sam. Sam, to her credit, told him to fuck off and went back to snoring. Tucker, somehow having heard her, responded with a 'Go fuck yourself'.

Shaking his head, Danny turned back to Tim. "Let's get going. It's-" Danny turned to look at the clock, his eyes narrowing when he found it; 4 am. The kid was up and coherent enough to try and blackmail someone into being Robin at four in the morning. "-four. you seriously need to get some sleep kid. It's a school night." actually, what day was it???

Tim rolled his eyes but started to follow Danny out the door. "It's Saturday, and I've stayed up longer," he grumbled.

Danny snorted, "So have I, but we still need to sleep." He should probably try and prevent the kid from staying up longer than he should. Danny knows what years of not sleeping properly does to someone. The kid's obsessed with Batman and Robin, right? He'll just use them then.

"Robin needs all the sleep he can get. Otherwise, Batman will bench him. If Robin is benched, then who is out there helping Batman?" That's convincing, right? Does Batman even have the power to bench Robin? From the sounds of it, Robin is his kid's vigilante name. Which means he totally has the power to ground them.

Wait...

If Danny was going to be Robin, does that mean Batman would think he's his kid?

Oh, hell naw. He was not going to be adopted by another fruitloop! If Bruce Wayne even thinks about it, Danny will be out of there so fast even the Flash couldn't stop him.

Tim stumbled, his eyes wide in surprise. "Really?" he asks, turning to look at Danny in horror. Danny blinked, brain failing to remember why the kid would be surprised.

shit, what were they talking about?? Robin... It's four am... Right!

"Yep," Danny chirped, leading the kid to his car. "Now, I know everyone says not to get into a stranger's car and all that jazz, but it's the only way I'm getting you home. So, hop in."

Tim didn't even hesitate to jump into the passenger seat, pulling the seat belt across his chest. Danny stared at him for a second, before opening the car door and sitting down.

"kid, you do know you're not supposed to get into strangers' cars, right?" Danny asked, closing the door and buckling up. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his keys and started the engine.

"Well, yeah?" Tim replied, turning to face him, "But you're not a stranger. You're Robin. You protect people not hurt them."

and well? Danny can't argue with that, now, can he?

"Right, fine. Just promise not to get into strangers' cars. I don't care how much you think you know about them. It's not safe, and you could get hurt."

Tim hummed, thinking about it for a moment before nodding his head. "Yeah, alright. I promise."

"good." Danny sighed, turning to look at the road to see if it was clear. then he sighed again, "Don't tell strangers where you live, please."

Tim looked at him in amusement, a small smile spreading across his face. "Drake manor. 1015 Mountain Drive. It's in the Crest Hill community."

"You're killing me here, kid." Danny groaned, hitting his head against the steering wheel. Then he slowly lifted his head and turned to stare at Tim, "Kid. How the hell did you get all the way over here? Mountain Drive is all the way over in Bristol??? That's, like, twelve miles outside of city limits?"

"I have my ways."

Danny narrowed his eyes, "You bribed someone, didn't you."

Tim looked away from him, fiddling with his fingers.

sighing, Danny sat up and started driving down the road. They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the chaos that was Gotham City as they drove. Tim eventually slumped over, his head resting against the window.

It took a good thirty minutes before Danny could turn onto the bridge out of town. The traffic wasn't heavy, just the occasional car here and there. It was almost peaceful.

"Turn here," Tim suddenly instructed, startling Danny.

"Tim!" Danny cried, turning to look at the kid, then back at the road. although, he did do as the kid instructed. "don't do that! you'll give me a heart attack or something! Ancients!"

Tim blinked, then shrugged. "ok," he yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"my house is the one with really stupid-looking ducks carved into the gates." Tim supplied, waving his hand at the road ahead of them. "Bruce's is the one with bats, but you knew that."

"Right," Danny agreed. What were the chances that Batman happened to live in a place called Gotham and in a house with black iron gates covered in bats? It was almost as coincidental as Danny's last name sounding like Phantom. Fate really had quite the sense of humor, didn't they?

after they passed a few more dirt roads, Tim pointed at a specific one, "Turn here. The gates a little further back than everyone else's."

Danny hummed, turning the car onto the road. What was his life at this point? Driving children to their huge houses at four-thirty in the morning? agreeing to become Robin? coming out of retirement because a kid asked him to?

Bruce Wayne better appreciate all the effort this kid was going through...

A tall gate slowly popped into view, making Danny slow the car down until he could stop right in front of it. "Alright, kid. You're home. get some sleep. Go to school, I don't know, what do you rich kids do on the weekends? actually, you know what? It doesn't matter, do you have a phone?"

Tim blinked as he slowly unbuckled, "yes?"

"One that's not monitored by your parents or anyone else?"

"..."

Danny sighed, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his phone. "Here," Danny unlocked it, went to settings and pressed the factory rest option. Once the phone finished the reset, he quickly scanned through it to make sure it was all gone before adding his second phone number. once done, he tossed it over to the kid. "here, should work for now. Don't let anyone else have it."

If this was any other situation, Danny would have gone straight to the kid's parents; but considering it was past four in the morning and there wasn't a city-wide amber alert? He has a feeling the kid needs a safety net, and well? What better than a direct line to him?

"I can't just take your phone!" Tim cried, catching the phone before it could fall to the ground.

"It's my backup one. I tend to break my phone pretty often, so I always keep an extra one on me. my current number is saved on it, you can reach out and get in contact with me now." Danny waved off the kid's concern, reaching into the back of the car to grab a bag.

with how often his phone had broken during ghost fights and how frequently his parents dissected his phone for parts? It's a habit at this point to have a backup. or Ten. Pulling the bag to the front, Danny showed the kid what was inside.

"..." Tim blinked, then looked up at Danny. "why do you have a bag of broken phones in your car?"

"Because my phones keep breaking and I figured it would be easier to just keep them for extra parts than toss them. Now," Danny tossed the bag into the back, ignoring how it tipped over and spilled the contents all over the seat. He'd clean it up later. Maybe. "It's early. You need sleep, I need sleep. We can pick another day to sit down and build a game plan."

Tim sat in silence for a moment, staring at the phone in his hands, before glancing up at Danny. "You really mean it?" he asked, turning the phone around anxiously, "you really want my help?"

"kid, Tim," Danny started, tilting his head so he could make eye contact. "with how bad you say Batman's gotten? I'm going to need all the help I can get. Who better than the one who went out of his way to try and actually do something about it?"

Tim's eyes watered as he looked back at the phone. "ok," he whispered, nodding his head. Reaching up, he wiped his face clean before taking a deep breath and letting it out.

"ok," he repeated, voice stronger now. "I'll help. I want to."

"Good," Danny nodded in agreement, then smiled. "get some sleep kid, you need it."

"I don't need it," Tim grumbled, turning to open the door and get out. "but if that's what it takes for you to allow me to help, then I guess I can take a nap or something."

Danny snorted, watching as Tim closed the car door and started making his way to the gate.

as soon as the kid was out of view, Danny slammed his head onto the steering wheel and groaned. He had definitely jinxed himself earlier. How hard can being Robin be? Yeah right. He hasn't even gotten to meet Bruce yet and he's already stressed.

...

Glancing up, Danny watched as the clock glitched then turned to five am.

...

Well then, he might as well do something productive since it was unlikely he'd be getting any more sleep if he went back. Sam would be up by the time he got there, which meant he'd have to answer all of her questions... which would wake Tucker up, which would mean Danny'd have to explain all over again.

Glancing around, Danny suddenly realized something.

Batman.

Bruce Wayne was Batman.

Bruce Wayne; as in, Gotham's own himbo billionaire.

Who lives in Bristol.

Which is where he is right now. Logically speaking, he'd be able to find it pretty fast if he just looked at the gates. It's probably just a few houses from Tim's too, now that he thought about it...

Oh, this was a terrible idea, but when had that ever stopped Danny?

Jazz was so going to kill him for this.

Next

[lcriedlastnight]

Friends to lovers with Lando

"Who's the most beautiful person you've seen?"

"The one that's asking the question."

"What?"

"What."

teehee, this one made me giggle! thanks anon!

tw: fem!reader, swears, idek let me know if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.1k

"it's a mate date!" your voice echos throughout the hallway of yours and your roommates flat. you and lando had just recently become friends and he had so kindly suggested that on his next day off you should both head out on a 'mate date' as he had called it.

"what the fuck is a mate date?" your roommate asks as she potters around in the kitchen. "surely you wouldn't be putting that much effort in for a mate date?".

her questions stuns you for a second. it seriously makes you stop in your tracks, one hand paused halfway through trying to put in your prettiest pair of earrings. okay, maybe you had a little crush on lando but you were not mentioning it, to him or anyone else for that matter. you knew it would either blow up in your face or you would ruin the blossoming friendship between you and lando.

you kick back into action and head back through to the kitchen to meet your roommate, bag in hand as you give her a twirl so she can evaluate your outfit. you get an enthusiastic reply from her once you are still again.

"is it a crime to want to look good when i leave the house. i don't get to do it as often as i want so when i do i'm gonna go all out." you tell her with a stern tone. is looking good for your crush too extreme these days??

after you were one hundred percent sure you were ready to leave you shoot lando a text, telling him you were on your way to the little cafe you both had decided on a few nights prior. it was this cutesy little french inspired place. the only issue was that it was in monaco. you did not live in monaco, neither were you actually in the country right now. lando, being well lando, had offered to fly you out just for the occasion. as he had said to you over text a week ago 'i'm desperate to see you again'. of course it was only a platonic desperation to see you, you had told yourself as you made your way to the airport. you did not really want to go on a plane in your date outfit and makeup but you really had no choice as lando had near enough forced you on that plane.

the journey was not too long and by the time you had landed at the airport lando was waiting for you. a denim jacket on and a lovely bunch of fresh, pink tulips. you were not too sure how lando knew what your favourite flower was but you sure as hell were not complaining.

"hey! you look lovely!" lando greets, warm smile gracing his tanned face. you roll your eyes as he pushed the flowers forward for you to grasp. you sling your tote bag over your shoulder as you take them from him.

"shut up, i've just come off a flight. you are laying on the charm thick today." you respond. lando laughs a little then motions for you to follow him out and into the car waiting outside.

"the cafe isn't too far from here but i didn't wanna make you walk there." lando drives his open-roofed car along the streets of monaco and you barely take in anything he says to you the whole drive there, even though it was barely a ten minute drive. the scenery around you was simple gorgeous and you did not think that you had ever seen anything as stunning in your entire life. you were completely mesmerised. and so was lando, but for a completely different reason.

once you both arrive outside the cafe, lando is quick to speed around the bonnet of the car to open your door for you. it makes you smile so it was completely worth the bruise lando is sure will form tomorrow once you have gone back home. a nice little reminder of the day, lando had thought to himself as he takes your arm and leads you inside the cafe.

lando had offered to order your drink for you as you waited at your table. once lando had returned with your drinks he gives you yours and sits down opposite you.

you both make small talk with each other as you catch up. you had both been texting pretty much everyday but there was just some things that just had to be told in person. you both end up asking each other wild questions. lando had just asked you "what is the highest amount of bagels you could eat in a day?" and after you had both had a pretty heated discussion about whether or not you could actually manage the twenty-six that you had answered, it was your turn to ask.

"okay this is gonna sound pretty childish, like it's so high school." you laugh into your white mug. "but i have to know."

lando smirks at you. "oh you just have to know?" he teases.

"i do. who's the most beautiful person you've ever seen?" your eyes trail over his features as you ask, knowing your own answer already.

"the girl that's asking the question." lando replies instantly. no hesitation. no stopping to think about it. he answered as if he had known the answer before you had even asked the question.

your brows raise in surprise as you question him. "what?".

"what."

you are both just sitting staring at each other for a second or two in silence. lando regretting not thinking before he spoke and answered your question. there was no way he had not just fucked up the budding friendship between the two of you. you regretting even asking the question. there was no way lando could mean that anyway, he was so obviously laying it on thick because he had caught wind of your pathetic little crush. how? you had no idea.

"look-"

"did you-"

you both start talking at the same time, an awkward little laugh falling between the both of you. lando clears his throat and tells you to go first.

"did you- do you mean that?" you ask, not even hesitating to ask him.

lando is so quick to nod. "of course i did. i really like you. i know it kinda messes up whatever kinda friendship we have going on right now." lando's hand rubs the back of his neck in a nervous action. your grin eases his nerves though.

"hm, i guess i don't really mind messing this up." lando smiles and you really think you have made the best decision of your life.

[crowleysgirl56]

Updated with edits!

Timeline of the last 12 months 15 months of the Good Omens fandom.

July 2023 - Good Omens season 2 drops. Fans watch on the presumption this season is based on the sequel idea Terry and NG spoke of in the 90’s and 2006. Reactions are mixed but mostly positive. We’re happy with fluff. Initial thoughts: “I don’t see how this story could have been fleshed out into an entire novel, but I guess it was only ever just initial ideas, so I suppose that works.”

July 2023 - THE KISS.

Fandom reaction: NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

August 2023 - NG responds to fandom

NG: “Season 2 isn’t actually based on the idea Terry and I spoke about.”

Fandom: “What?”

NG: “Season 2 is just a bridging story to get us to season 3. That will be the story that Terry and I discussed.”

Fandom: “What!?”

NG: “Season 3 hasn’t been greenlit by Prime yet so we might not get it.”

Fandom: “WHAT?!”

NG: “Also I wrote the kiss that way by giving the fandom what you want without actually giving you what you want. So like, stop asking me for things or I won’t write them.”

Fandom: “AAARRRGGGHHHHH!!!”

August to November 2023 - The fandom, now lost and depressed, mope through the halls of Tumblr and Reddit, desperately clinging to any piece of information dropped by NG, sharing fan art, creating headcanons and theories, and writing the angstiest of angst fanfiction ever written. Some weep in a corner mumbling about the South Downs. Most just trudge through their daily lives, listless and despondent.

December 2023 - Prime greenlights Good Omens Season 3.

Fandom: YES! OMG HOORAY! WAHOO! Dancing in the streets. Fanfiction turns to fluff and smut. NG is active and happy, answering many questions without actually answering them. Gives us the hilarious gift of Dottie and Sadie.

January 2024 - speculation of when season 3 filming will begin commences. Realisation that it could be quite a while starts to sink in. Actors and writers strike has caused delay to the scripts being written. David and Michael have taken on theatre work which will delay their filming schedules. Douglas McKinnon announces he’s stepping away as director. Fandom has slight freak out, but NG reassures everyone it’s nothing to worry about, and linked to the recent strikes.

Early to mid 2024 - “The invisible and unbreakable line that joins Crowley and Aziraphale”.

Fandom: AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! We inevitably become even more feral. Much fanart is made.

March 2024 - David hosts the BAFTAs and Michael helps him during the opening. David is then nominated for TV BAFTA for Good Omens.

Fandom: OMG YYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAYYYY!!! Much dancing and celebration is had once again. We are so in love.

May 2024 - filming schedule for GO season 3 is announced. It will commence January 2025. The fandom reacts.

Fandom: “That’s still so long away!” “Michael and David will have their hair dyed white and red for the awards season!” “Going by the previous production schedule this means season 3 won’t reach our screen until 2026! No!” “Cannot wait for this to start filming we are going to be so feral!” More fanfiction, more fanart.

June 2024 - David hosts Pub in the Park. Michael joins him.

Fandom: THEY ARE SO CUTE! HOW CAN THEY BE THIS CUTE, WE DON’T DESERVE THEM.

Early July 2024 - horrible allegations are laid against NG and the fandom comes to a terrible crashing halt. Much debate and discussion is had back and forth: “Believe the victims”. “Separate the art from the artist”. “Drop the fandom entirely”. “Step back for a moment”. There is a lot of arguing, but there is also still a lot of love. NG has fled all social media.

Late July 2024 - until it’s January, and the show actually starts filming, Good Omens season 3 has now become Schrödinger’s Series. It both now exists and doesn’t exist. Prime at any moment may pull the production due to the backlash against NG. The fandom now re-examines McKinnon’s departure speculating if he left for other reasons. We once again despondently trudge the halls of tumblr and Reddit feeling the same feeling of this time last year.

This section of the post was made in late July was this was original posted: And that pretty much brings us up to date. Anything could happen in the next six months, which is why I feel we’re all worried. It’s why I’m worried. So instead, keep sharing the art, keep writing the fanfiction, keep speculating with theories and headcanons. Let’s be here for each other. Because we created this fandom for each other. It doesn’t belong to NG anymore. Let’s do this for Terry. Personally, I can’t wait to come back to this timeline and add January 2025 - filming begins.

28 July 2024 - Michael Sheen, the absolute angel that he is posts a picture of his tartan socks clad feet alongside the caption “To our world”. Such a beautiful, beautiful man!

10 September 2024 - Amazon Prime announces production for season 3 is paused. Everyone loses their shit. There is much lamentations.

Unsubstantiated posts start circulating that the show is cancelled. People who have a friend whose cousin’s gardener’s former roommate claim they are involved with the production and therefore they KNOW the show is cancelled. More lamentations.

Amazon stays silent for EIGHT. FUCKING. WEEKS.

The fandom walk around in a god damn haze again akin to what August to December 2023 felt like. Will we be left with the final 15 forever?

Mid October 2024 - for about 3 days straight the fandom receives information that is akin to a rollercoaster of emotion. Head graphics designer Mickey tweets out a now deleted post that everyone is going back to Scotland. Then Peter Anderson Studio tweet out a now deleted post referencing the South Downs cottage. Then random casting company updates their subscription website advertising Good Omens: The Finale a TV movie. Entertainment website releases an article referencing this. The fandom LOSE. THEIR. SHIT. AGAIN. We honestly can’t take much more of this.

25 October 2024 - Amazon finally announces the news we’ve been half expecting half dreading with positive and negative ramifications. Neil Gaiman is gone. GOOD! Season 3 will still happen. GOOD! But now it’s just a 90 minutes finale. WAIT, WHAT, NO! But it could have been worse. It was a hairs breath away from being completely cancelled. GOD BLESS RHIANNA PRATCHETT AND ROB WILKINS.

It’s been a wild ride everyone. I’ve already posted earlier this morning (25 October 2024) my thoughts about the whole situation so go read that there. But for now? Gaiman is gone, and we get our ending.

For now here’s to seeing our boys with their red and white hair again.

[harmonictechnicality]

Eddie develops a strange habit after sex. It’s not exactly cute or romantic or nice. Nothing bad either. It’s just… well, Steve isn’t too sure what it is. But every time, it’s the same damn thing.

He collapses onto Steve’s chest and says:

“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”

Usually, Steve is still recovering from the fucking downpour of post-orgasm endorphins. So he doesn’t question it. Hell, he stopped challenging Eddie’s tolerance to geek out months ago. Dude holds fantasy knowledge in his brain better than he holds his liquor.

Which is saying a lot.

Anyways, Steve never has the mental capacity to react or respond. Instead, he runs his fingers through Eddie’s sweat-soaked hair for awhile. Scratches out little patterns on his scalp because it always makes Eddie go limp. Quiet.

Quiet is a rarity for him. And while Steve is totally weak for Eddie’s chattiness, the quiet can be nice too.

The only reason Steve finally decides to ask about it is because Eddie slips up. Says it before they have sex.

Steve is against the bedroom door, his nails dragging down Eddie’s back. God, he loves this kind of kissing. The lung draining kind. The type that’s sort of filthy from all the heat and grinding. 

Eddie hasn’t marked him up this bad since that time someone at work noticed his neck. Asked if Steve was having an allergic reaction during an office-wide meeting.

And this is going to be even worse. Steve can tell by the sounds and the soft pricks of Eddie’s teeth. He can tell by how long Eddie spends over each spot, like the bruising skin needs more attention than the rest of him. Like licking them over will make the colors last longer.

The damage has been done. Really no point in stopping him when it feels so fucking good. Steve forgets to worry about  how mauled he’s gonna look tomorrow because his head is swimming with Eddie’s lips on his neck. His collarbone. His chest.

That’s when it happens. That’s when Eddie’s strange habit makes an early appearance. 

He kisses over the blistery mess he made, practically growls the words out this time: 

“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”

“Okay, time out.” Steve says. Heaves some air back into his lungs. Pulls Eddie’s face up before he can continue making Steve look like goddamn target practice. 

Eddie blinks a few times. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Gonna have to wear fucking high-collared shirts all week, but whatever.

He’ll bring that up some other time. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Saying what?”

“That… thing.” Steve barely can spit it out.  It’s like his throat is physically rejecting the nerdy shit he’s about to say. “You keep calling me… a cyborg or something.” 

“Oh that.” Eddie sighs. Casually shrugs to one side. “It’s your fault actually.”

“How is it my fault? I don’t even know what fucking language you’re speaking.”

Eddie walks over to the bed, chanting Steve’s name over and over. Definitely not in the way Steve prefers him to chant his name. Very un-sexy chanting.

“Remember that day you asked me to grab your car keys?” He asks, patting the bed for Steve to join him. 

No. “Kinda?”

Steve hesitates before walking over. He didn’t necessarily wanna stop their primal makeout session. But it was bound to lead to the bed at some point, so…

Just not like this. Not talking while fully clothed. Blech.

He sits next to Eddie. Hands awkwardly fidgeting in his lap.

“Well, I couldn’t find them.” Eddie admits. “So I ended up going through your desk drawers.”

Of course he did. Perpetual snooper.

“Ended up finding a binder full of medical records.”

Well shit.

Steve’s throat tightens. Swells around the sudden guilt he feels for keeping this from Eddie. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a metal plate in your head?”

“Dunno. Hardly even remember it.” That’s only partly true. Steve doesn’t remember the surgery or much of the recovery process. He was only a kid when it happened.

But he does remember the hospital smells. He remembers the sounds of his IV bag dripping throughout the night. All the sensory indicators are still fresh in his mind.

“Well, that’s why. You're part-machine.” Eddie points to Steve’s head, expression softening. “And every time we fuck around, I think about your bionic skull. And how glad I am that it keeps your brain from leaking out when I bend you over the way you like it best.”

Steve laughs. The jokes help lighten the mood. Not enough to replace it entirely, but enough for it to be easy to swallow again. 

They’re both quiet as they get ready for bed, folding the covers down. And yeah, sometimes quiet can be nice. Just maybe not right now.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

Steve stares hard at the pillows. “Are cyborgs like… cool?”

Eddie pauses for a moment, then hops onto the bed. Starts crawling over to Steve with a smug grin. He lifts up to meet Steve’s lips. Kisses him sweeter than normal. Lighter. Starts nodding his head mid-kiss, keeps nodding as he breaks away.

“Yeah, babe. Cyborgs are so fucking cool.”

[awearywritersworld]

the day of my execution

sukuna x reader summary: gojo, yuuji, and sukuna discuss what happened at the store. sukuna begins to consider your mortality like never before and takes care of you when you're sick. w/c: 2.7k tags/warnings: fluff. mentions of attempted kidnapping. banter. reader has the flu. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: sorry for disappearing for so long, but here is the long awaited next chapter. i've put a second a/n at the end, so i hope you'll read it. please excuse me talking out of my ass trying to rationalize my application of jujutsu, but if gege does it, so can i. i hope it kind of makes sense though. series masterlist // masterlist

truthfully, yuuji expects his wednesday morning to be as uneventful as any other, but when he stands in front of the bathroom sink to brush his teeth, his eyes are not the only ones staring back at him.

"what d'ya want?" he groans. "it's too early for this."

"we need to talk."

sukuna doesn't give his vessel a chance to respond before he begins recounting the events of the previous night, a story which has yuuji's face cycling between surprise, worry, and dismay. "the man claimed someone sent him?"

"that's what i said," sukuna responds impatiently.

"why would anyone be after her? i don't understand."

"would it kill you to use your brain for once?" sukuna questions, having had the entirety of the night to ponder the situation. "think, idiot. who would be interested in using her in some ploy? against you. against... us."

yuuji's eyes widen. "the higher ups?

"no one else would be so brazen."

it strikes sukuna as ironic that just days after he relayed the cruelness he endured at the hands of jujutsu society's higher ups a millenia ago, you too almost became one of their victims. it's a reality that he despises.

"i should call gojo—"

"that is out of the question."

"do you want to keep her safe or not?"

sukuna scoffs. "this is how we keep her safe. if the higher ups are after her, we can't trust other sorcerers."

yuuji almost seems offended on gojo's behalf. after all, he's known him for the better part of a decade. "i'd trust gojo with my life."

"well this isn't your life we're talking about. this is much more important."

yuuji chuckles. "i know. that's exactly why we need help."

before sukuna can protest, yuuji's dialing his old sensei and asking to meet somewhere they can speak privately.

that's how they end up at a small bakery on the outskirts of tokyo, sukuna relaying the story for the second time that morning.

once he finishes, gojo leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. "well, i don't think you're wrong about the higher ups being involved."

"so what are we supposed to do?" yuuji asks. "they might use her to get to me, but you don't think the higher ups would actually put her life in danger, do you?"

though yuuji's question is directed toward gojo, it isn't him that answers.

"you're as naive as ever," sukuna scoffs. "they'll stop at nothing to achieve their own ends."

gojo grimaces, a silent agreement with the assertion. "i can do some poking around, see who ordered it to be done."

"and what exactly is that going to do? there's no reasoning with them."

"a fact i am well aware of," the white haired man narrows his eyes at the king of curses. "but there is leverage in power, something i happen to have more of than anybody—"

"almost anybody—"

"so as the strongest, i'll take care of this as soon as i can."

"hey, um, so as productive as all the dick measuring is," yuuji interrupts. "it doesn't keep her safe in the meantime."

"i have an idea in that regard," sukuna says. "it's an ancient practice, and while it doesn't offer any protective measures, it will allow me to find her if they make another attempt like last night."

gojo leans forward, clearly interested to hear more.

"i can imbue a talisman with a part of myself and if she wears it, it will act as a beacon for her location."

"with part of yourself? as in, your cursed energy?" yuuji speculates. "wouldn't that do more harm than good? attract cursed spirits and whatever?"

"no, i'm not a fool. it's not cursed energy."

sukuna is hesitant to clarify further. he'd done something similar when creating his fingers, but it was different then. it was a selfish endeavor to preserve his life long after it was his time to die. it was a dark sort of jujutsu, one meant only to bring destruction.

but intention is important in sorcery. it can change the very essence of the practice.

for the first time in his life, sukuna is acting selflessly, concerned only with your protection. it's a pure sort of jujutsu this time around, one that allows him to impart a piece of himself that isn't tainted by cursed energy.

and because of that, that part of him would be unprotected. it'd leave him uniquely vulnerable. it's a steep and dangerous measure. that's why the practice had been forgotten long before the modern age.

"then what could it possibly be?" it's quiet for a moment as yuuji's question hangs in the air.

"it's your soul, isn't it?" the disbelief lacing gojo's voice is quite plain, but he's heard whispers of such techniques. "you'd give her a piece of your soul."

sukuna's never been one for unfinished business, so it's no surprise when he finds himself on the couch, intent on finishing the stranger. besides, it had become clear he'd been focusing on the wrong aspects of the book when he first began reading it.

he's three chapters from the end when he hears a loud shatter from the kitchen, followed by a sharp gasp. the broken glass hasn't even finished sliding across the floor before he's at your side.

"what happened?" the alarm in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"nothing, nothing," you assure him. "i just dropped my cup."

crouching down, you reach for one of the bigger pieces before your hand is swiftly smacked away. "don't."

"it's fine. it's only a little glass."

when you reach for it again, he grabs your wrist. "you troublesome little thing. do you ever listen?"

"i don't make a habit of it."

"i know. the question was rhetorical."

sukuna's already noticed the shards of glass surrounding your bare feet, so he wastes no time in picking you up and placing you on the countertop.

"don't move." he says it in such a way that, for once, you don't even think about disobeying him.

he all but stomps out of the room, returning moments later with a broom and dust pan. there's a small smile playing on your lips as you watch him gather the larger pieces before sweeping up the rest.

and you know, it's really not fair. sukuna could even call it a cosmic injustice, the way he has to worry about broken glass and fragile fingertips.

but he likes you and he likes the pads of your fingers, particularly the way they feel against his skin and run through his hair, so he swallows his pride.

it's been consuming him lately— the fact that you are just as easily broken as the glass that littered the kitchen tile. he never considered just how many ways there are for a human to die until you were nearly taken from him.

so once he's done, he rests the broom and dustpan against the wall and stands in front of you, his hips situated between your knees.

reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a necklace and your mouth falls open in shock. a delicate chain is threaded around his fingers, while its ruby pendant dangles in the air. "i want you to have this."

"what.. what is it?"

he snorts. "you don't know what a necklace is?"

you let out a breath of a laugh. "of course i do. i'm just surprised."

you hold up your palm and he places the necklace there gently. inspecting the gem, you notice it bears a striking resemblance to the color of his eyes.

strangely, it's almost as if it's heavier than it should be— like it's weighed down by some importance beyond your comprehension.

"it's beautiful," you tell him honestly. "are you sure?"

"sure of what?"

"that i should have it."

he pauses before responding, taking in the way you're so gingerly holding it. he's scared you've realized what he's actually giving you. that you're repulsed by it.

he's hesitant when he asks, "why would you think otherwise?"

"i didn't do anything to deserve something like this."

sukuna breathes a sigh of relief. "you are ever the fool."

his hands find your hips, pulling you off the counter and onto your feet. he plucks the necklace from your hand, then shifts to stand behind you.

moving your hair to the side, his fingers brush lightly against your skin. "the necklace is undeserving of adorning your neck. not the other way around."

and he knows it's the truth. a piece of him, attached to a creature so lovely she should be out of his reach... well, that's just unseemly, isn't it?

"but promise me something anyway."

"anything," you say without delay.

he situates the chain around your neck, the pendant lying in the space where your collarbones meet, and fastens the clasp. when you turn to face him, you're met with an alarmingly grave expression.

"promise you won't ever take it off."

you fiddle with the ruby somewhat nervously, feeling as if you're missing some important piece of the puzzle.

you nod in response to his request, but it isn't enough for him.

"say it."

"i promise."

he can see that you're biting back questions, so he explains, "if you're wearing that, i'll always know where to find you."

it finally dawns on you, for the first time, how much the incident at the store truly affected him. it's not the way he ended those men that clued you in, nor is it the way he pleaded with you to forgive him.

it happens in this moment. it's the gentleness of his voice, despite his underlying desperation. it's the way he's watching you carefully, as if you're likely to disappear. it's the fact he wouldn't let you clean up a mess of your own making, because he can't stand the thought of seeing you bleed.

"i... i don't know what to say."

"well, that's a first."

"shut up," you punch his shoulder. "you're ruining the moment."

"right, my bad," he chuckles and glances down at the gemstone. "do you like it?"

you let out a breath. "of course. i love it."

he smiles at your words— soft and genuine— truly a rare sight. "good."

you notice that he's looking at you. really looking at you. his eyes shift away from yours and over to each of your temples. then down to your nose. your mouth. even your chin.

he takes in every detail and he feels like he's in your debt simply for gazing at your countenance.

you almost regret it when your hands curl around the collar of his shirt and pull his lips to yours. you should have savored his smile, spent time committing it to memory.

although, that's soon forgotten as you feel the curve of his mouth deepen while his lips move against yours.

it isn't until day three of your ceaseless coughing and sneezing that sukuna adds them to his list— broken glass, fragile fingertips, coughs, and sniffles.

his concern is clear from the way he dotes on you. he brings you cold cloths, makes you tea, massages your neck, runs you baths.

now he's on his way to a twenty four hour pharmacy to pick up more medicine to reduce your fever, and while it's only a block away, he's still doing it alone.

but not even for a moment does he consider running off to burn the world's largest city to the ground. the streets are crawling with people, but he finds himself avoiding them more than anything.

he has to get back to you after all.

the only thought on his mind other than you is the ending of the stranger. the main character, while awaiting his beheading from his prison cell, conveys his final words to readers:

for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, i opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. finding it so much like myself— so like a brother, really— i felt that i had been happy and that i was happy again. for everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, i had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators on the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.

in sukuna's first life, perhaps this line would have resonated with him. it was a life where he had resolved himself to the idea that nothing really mattered, because the alternative was too painful. it didn't matter that jujutsu society betrayed him. it didn't matter that he stole people's lives out from under them. it didn't matter that he was alone.

and while he would have never surrendered himself to execution, if that had been his fate, he would have preferred to go out surrounded by living reminders of all he had accomplished. surrounded by all the people he had ruined.

however, when he imagines such an occurrence happening in his present life, there is only one face throughout the entire crowd and it belongs to you.

the very thought makes him sick with grief.

looking up, he realizes that there are no stars in tokyo anymore, that there is no feeling of indifference when it comes to you, and that there is no happiness to be had when you are not by his side.

he knows he'll never shed another drop of innocent blood if it means you'll always have that look of adoration in your eyes when your gaze falls on him.

so his trip to the pharmacy is short and hurried.

opening your apartment door, he's careful to be quiet in case you're sleeping, but he finds you peering at him from the couch.

your hair is disheveled. there's a sheen of sweat across your forehead. your eyes are beyond tired. your shirt is wrinkled.

you're still the most pleasing thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"you're back," you rasp.

"i'm back," he affirms, slipping off his shoes.

you sit up and quickly regret it, your hand coming to rest against your stomach. "god, i feel like i'm gonna puke."

"charming."

you use all your strength to throw a pillow at him, which he easily catches before tossing something small in your direction— a ginger chew to help with the nausea.

you unwrap it and pop it in your mouth. "thanks."

he hums in response, settling down in the spot beside you. once he pulls the medicine from the bag, it's followed by two bottles. "got you these, too."

recognizing them as your favorite drink, your exhausted and delirious brain makes your eyes well up with grateful tears. "you're so sweet."

"yeah, whatever. don't get used to it."

"but you are. you're sweet and kind, except i'm the only one who knows it," you pause before continuing, your head falling onto his shoulder. "why is that?"

he contemplates denying that he possesses any such quality, but decides against it. "you're the only one who's ever cared to know."

he can feel the heat of your temple through his shirt, so he opens the box of fever reducers and pops out two tablets before handing them to you. "take these. you're burning up."

you do as he says without protest. standing up and stretching your arms above your head, sukuna's eyes wander to where your shirt rides up and reveals your stomach.

"c'mon, let's go to bed," you yawn.

he follows after you wordlessly, carelessly pulling off his shirt and climbing into bed beside you. curling up against his side, your head comes to rest on his chest and it's quiet for a few passing moments.

"you can't see the stars from tokyo anymore."

"what?" you ask sleepily.

"the stars. there's too much light to see them from here."

"oh, yeah. we can take a trip to the mountains soon. you can see them pretty well from there."

"i'll hold you to that."

and so with the promise of a beautiful night sky, with the company of someone who means the world to him, and with the feeling of your body pressed against his— sukuna feels that he had been happy and that he was happy again.

a/n 2: hey! so i'm sorry again for stopping updates without really saying anything. i think i just needed to step away from tumblr and writing for a while because i was getting a bit overwhelmed. i was also a little unsure about the direction of this chapter. i was struggling to incorporate the necklace part without it seeming cheesy or weird. that being said, thanks as always to everyone for your support of this series. it's really heartwarming and much appreciated. if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear! i'm not sure when the next update will be, but i'll do my best to keep you guys posted. all my love - m<3

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @elusivemoon @annoyingstrawberryballoon @miabiar @hyeon-yi @iluv-ace @wineyoungie @vduxx @inflatabledinosaurs19 @harrystylesfan2686 @silentmajesticfox @am-the-renegade @certainduckanchor @moons-reblog @scarletrosesposts @th3-audac1ty @darlink-xoxo @ayeputita @nanmiik @namjooningera @hermxssaa @annieleonhardtsbitch @nugget-eater123 @integers @thefunbanshee @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress @luckypeacevoid @kiki17483 @ruttteerr @yourbelloved @heyohalie // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.

[sugrhigh]

TOUCH IT - ( c.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- you and chris have never gotten along, despite your close relationship with his two brothers. you find out that’s he’s been messing with your love life behind your back, and all hell breaks loose. you both exchange many hurtful pranks, until you take it too far and chris shows up at your place

warnings- SMUT W/ A PLOT (enemies to lovers), virgin!reader x playboy!chris, cursing, you know the drill

a/n: it’s been forever, but i have returned!! thank you for waiting and i truly hope this makes up for my absence. to the nonnie who requested this im praying it meets expectations lol. my inbox is always open for reqs, comments, sweet nothings, etc <3

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @lovesodakid @mattslolita @sturniolopepsi @boywonderblogs @cherrypostsposts @iprk90 @bxbynyah7 @mbbsgf @zivall @slut4chriss @sturniolossss @sturnslcver @k111rby @vsangel-starbies @ginswife @eyeliketoeatpoosay @sturngirly @faygo-frog @s8nshines @bellasashylegs @mattsbbg @sturnlova @huntiesworld @cthasia @mattybsbitch @justalittle47 @ponyosturniolo @goldengrapejuice @matthewsturniolosactualgf @lustfulslxt @kenzieiskoolaid @ryli3sworld @c6ina @mcdonaldscocacola @venusvonlaw

your sniffles fill the living room, a pathetic sound that continues as you wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. well, it’s actually nick’s sweatshirt, and even though you’re getting your makeup all over it, he feels so terrible that he doesn’t mind.

“i don’t understand, you guys. why would he blow me off after we already went on three really good dates?” you question, voice cracking in hurt.

nick shakes his head solemnly, rubbing your arm to try and console you. “because he’s a fucking loser. i know it sucks, but i promise you this is for the best. now you don’t have to waste any more time on that dick.”

you just sigh. he’s right, but that doesn’t make you feel any less embarrassed. being stood up is a hit to the self-esteem, especially when you get all dressed up to wait around outside the restaurant like an idiot and have your best friends pick you up an hour later.

and after years of being on the sidelines, of watching everyone around you date and fall in love, you have to admit that you really thought something was growing. you thought it was your turn.

meeting wes was like a breath of fresh air, and after a few very promising initial hangouts, you figured this might finally be it. a cute guy with similar interests who actually seemed to like you.

but you suppose you guessed wrong.

“he was so sweet though, and that’s why i’m confused. the guy i thought that i was going out with would have never done that.” you reason, more with yourself than with him.

matt huffs from the other side of you, pushing his hair back on his forehead. “don’t cut him any slack. if he was even halfway decent he would’ve been open and communicated with you.”

another truth bomb that only further ruptures your heart. you know they’re trying to help, even though nothing about this is making you feel any better.

the whole thing is a disaster, though you should have known better. your entire love life has always been a mess. but each time you meet someone new and start to fall, you’re hopeful that it’ll be different.

“i just want to know what i did.” you mutter, sniffling again to try and stop your runny nose.

before either of them can respond, a loud bang erupts out from the kitchen and infiltrates the moment. you flinch, snapping your head in the direction of the noise just to meet a pair of icy eyes.

it’s chris, because of course he has to see you like this, at your literal lowest point. he’s got a small pot in hand as he stares you down, somehow managing to look both annoyed and indifferent at the same time.

“what are you whining about this time?” he asks, turning his back to you so he can set the pot on the stove and switch on the burner.

“be nice, chris. she’s having a rough night.” nick tells his brother, who doesn’t heed the warning in the slightest.

instead he just spins around to face the three of you once more, a small (but still smug) smile lighting up his face.

“oh, you had a date with that idiot wesley didn’t you? how did it go?”

chris poses it as a question, but you see right through him. his sarcastic tone indicates that he already knows how it went, considering your mascara is streaked under your bloodshot eyes and you’re in nick’s clothes rather than your own outfit.

but still, you find yourself giving him an answer, though it’s followed up by an interrogation of your own. “he didn’t show. you happen to know anything about that?”

he shrugs, reaching to open the pantry and grab some pasta. “nope.”

“bullshit.”

it flies out of your mouth before you truly think about it, but you’re kind of happy you spoke up for once. you know he’s hiding something, and you deserve the whole truth.

“what is that supposed to mean?” he narrows his eyes, like he’s challenging you to say more.

“it means you’re lying right to my face. what did you do?” you question further, even though you’re not entirely sure you want the answer.

chris gnaws on his cheek, trying to decide how much to tell you. and then he remembers that his brothers are in the room, and that he’d never be caught dead admitting to any sort of vulnerability, so his mouth starts running without a second thought.

“oh, that? yeah, i ran into wes the other day at the gym.” he shrugs simply, like that explains it all.

you rise to your feet, legs far ahead of your brain as you charge in his direction. “what the fuck did you say, chris?”

he’s surprised by your temper considering you’re usually so mild-mannered, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stand down. instead, he straightens to puff his chest out, crossing his arms in a defensive stance.

“i told him the truth. that you’re a prude, and that you’ll never let him hit no matter how many amazing dates you go on.”

your mouth falls open and you stop in your tracks, just a few feet from him now. there’s no softness in his eyes; he’s completely shut down, focused on upholding the facade.

never in a million years did you expect him to throw your inexperience back at you as an insult, no matter how much you both disliked each other.

you’re pretty sure you hear both matt and nick gasp lightly from the living room, completely taken aback by their brothers brazenness. you can’t blame them. you’re almost not sure how to react, or what to say. almost.

“you’re gonna regret the day you ever fucked with me, christopher sturniolo. i can promise you that.”

and you kept that promise.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you hear him roar from somewhere upstairs.

you immediately smile, munching on your breakfast (even though it’s noon) in the kitchen. nick looks over from beside you with wide eyes, and then takes notice of your satisfied expression.

“what did you do?” he asks in a hushed voice as you hear chris come bounding down the stairs.

you shrug and turn to look over your shoulder at the man of the hour. he’s shirtless, hair tussled from sleep with his sweats hanging low on his waist, and he’s waving around a pair of his boxers. it’s one of the expensive ones that you know is now completely destroyed thanks to your doing.

“really? cutting out a hole in all of my underwear?” chris snaps at you, tossing them at your feet because he doesn’t know what else to do.

it’s a dick hole, to be specific. they’re completely in tact aside from the gaping space where it’s supposed to protect his manhood.

“figured it would help save time since you wanna fuck everything that moves.” you say, taking a satisfying bite of your bacon as you study him with a smirk.

nick lets out a laugh, because he knows that chris honestly deserves it after his asshole behavior towards you a few days ago.

you’d been strong, pretending it didn’t phase you as much as it really had whenever you were hanging out with them. but it was beyond messed up, and neither of the boys could understand why their brother would go to that extent just to sabotage your relationship.

“better than being a stuck-up virgin who thinks she’s smarter than she is.” he growls in return, and there’s a mean look in his eyes.

you know he’s trying to hurt you, but he’s once again tossing your innocence around like a dig, which is what offends you the most considering it’s a deep-rooted insecurity.

and you hate that he’s still being malicious while he looks so damn heavenly standing across from you, his bare chest heaving in anger. it makes your stomach flip uncomfortably.

you don’t know if you’re sick with rage or sick with desire.

definitely rage, right?

“i’d rather be selective than completely ran through.” you hurl another diss at him, which he just scoffs at.

“you think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you? how many other times have you snuck into my room while i’m sleeping?” chris questions, taking a singular step forward.

he’s towering over you as you sit at the table, but you don’t let it intimidate you like he wants. instead, you say the one thing that you know he won’t expect.

“how many times have you thought about taking me in there yourself, huh?” you accuse him harshly.

your words hang in the air, and the tension is palpable. his lips part in shock, and you watch the blush creep up his neck to his face because he can’t count on both hands how much he’s pictured you in his bed.

you’re also stunned by his reaction, but you try not to show it. you expected him to tell you how wrong you are, how he would never touch you in a million years.

but he doesn’t.

“jesus, what did i just walk in to?” matt grumbles as he trudges past his brother into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

chris answers before you can. “nothing, she’s just being insane.”

“i’m sure whatever she did was reasonable after that douchebag comment you made the other day.” he replies easily, and your heart swells at the fact that he came to your defense.

you know it puts your two best friends in a tough situation considering you’re constantly bickering with their brother, but it’s nice to know they have your back on this.

“fine. i don’t fucking need this from all three of you anyways.” chris’s frown deepens as he turns on his heel to head back upstairs.

part of you feels a bit bad as you watch him go, but the overwhelming sensation that takes over is pride. you finally fought back, and you may have actually ended it.

well, that’s what you thought anyways, but you find that you’re once again wrong.

on your way back from the triplets house two days later, you were honked at eight separate times. you started keeping track.

the first instance scared the absolute shit out of you, because you thought you were about to get into an accident or something. your hand had flown to your chest, a loud curse leaving your mouth as your other palm gripped the wheel.

and then it happened again, and again, and many more times after that. you were pretty sure there was something written into the grime on your back window, but you couldn’t read it no matter how hard you tried.

you’re enraged by the time you park at your place, tearing out of the driver's seat to go look. you pull out your phone and tap the flashlight on, illuminating the hidden message.

honk if u think im a SLUT

you press your shaky fingers to your mouth, completely embarrassed by the fact that you’d been driving around like this and by the fact that so many people had essentially called you a whore.

what a stupid prank, considering you had almost crashed your car over it. you grab a napkin from your center console and wipe it all away, grumbling under your breath about how much you hate chris the whole time.

you stalk into your little ground-level apartment, slamming the front door shut behind you. by the time you’ve kicked off your shoes and made it to your bedroom you’ve worked yourself into a fit.

you whip your phone back out and find yourself pulling up his contact despite how much you don’t want to hear his cocky remarks.

but it’s ringing regardless, and he picks up on the second one. he was expecting the call, anxiously awaiting your reaction because he knew it would piss you off enough to talk to him.

“hey.” chris says simply, smiling to himself as he leans back in the rolling chair in his room.

“you’re a fucking idiot, you know that? and also a raging hypocrite while we’re at it. am i a prude or a slut, chris?” you lash out immediately, pacing around your room because you can’t seem to sit down.

“you’re a slutty prude.” he replies, and you can literally hear the smirk in his voice.

“and you’re just a little bitch. you love to act like you’re so tough, but i think you’re the weakest person i know by far. always too scared to say what you really mean.” your words are sharp yet fluid, as if they’re coming from someone besides yourself.

there’s a pause, just for a brief second, and you wonder what’s going through his head. you don’t know what’s going through your own anymore.

the line crackles and he sucks in a breath, re-arming himself to continue this brawl.

“you want me to say what i mean? i think you love riding on your high horse, pretending that you’re better than everyone else. like you’re so pure. but really you’re just needy and desperate, hoping someone will come along and fuck you right.”

your mouth is suddenly completely dry, trying to process what he even means while also coming up with a quick response.

“you think about people fucking me a lot? or do you think about you fucking me a lot?” you ask a beat later, bringing back the conversation from the other day.

he feels the blood rush to his dick, which stiffens against his sweats from this kind of talk with you. he’s only ever imagined it in his dreams.

“you wish it was me, don’t you sweetheart? taking it slow, making you weak.” he mutters, and you feel yourself throb from his words alone.

you hate how much it turns you on, thinking about chris completely having his way with you. you can feel the butterflies erupt in your stomach, pattering through your gut and up to your chest.

“you gonna come do something about it or are you just gonna keep talking shit?” you call him out.

he sucks in a breath, completely hard now from your alluring voice and the context of your words.

there’s nothing he wants more than to sprint to your house and spread you out on your bed, to show you what real pleasure is all about. but there’s so many underlying problems, one of which is the fact that his brothers are best friends with you.

there’s a lot to ruin, even though he knows he already destroyed any chance of a real relationship between the two of you the second he met you. but still, being honest means things will change, and that scares him.

so he pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs up.

for a second you don’t even realize, and then the ending tone alerts you that he’s not waiting to respond, he’s just a fucking jerk. you can’t believe he ended the call so abruptly, like it didn’t phase him at all.

your legs are shaky as you throw yourself down into bed, ignoring the chill you still feel creeping across your body from the conversation.

he won’t get the last laugh. you won’t let him.

chris thinks about you the most at night. it’s hardest to get you out of his head when he’s alone in his room, just like he is now, watching tv to try and drown out his overactive mind. he hasn’t seen you in a few days, which is unusual, and he doesn’t like to admit it but he misses you.

you’re the reason he’s scrolling through instagram in the first place, aimlessly liking girls' photos just to try and convince himself that he’s interested in other people.

but he’s not. he hasn’t been in a long time, because he knew almost immediately that you’re everything he’s ever wanted, which was only confirmed as you continued to stick around. the thought alone was terrifying.

so he pushed you, and pushed you, and pushed you, ensuring that you’d steer clear of him. it just seemed easier, though it’s proving to be quite the opposite.

he’s just about to turn to video games for saving when his phone goes off in his hand. it’s a text from a girl he met over a week ago at a party, who had come back to spend the night with him.

and she’s asking if he has chlamydia.

the question is followed by a screenshot, which chris taps on immediately as his heart beats out of his chest. it’s a different message from some kind of bot number, alleging that he recently tested positive and she should see a doctor.

the sad part is that it looks pretty official, so much so that if he received the text himself he would probably believe it blindly. his face burns in embarrassment and irritation.

then another one comes through, from a girl he used to hook up with pretty frequently last month. by the time he responds to one person, he’s greeted by more messages from others.

five girls text him in the span of five minutes, which just adds insult to injury that they’re all questioning it too. but finally, they stop coming, and he’s pretty sure it’s over.

and now that he’s no longer focused on repeatedly putting the rumor to bed, he’s pissed.

of course chris knows it was you behind all of it, because who else would it be. he just can’t believe you thought of it, that you bested him at his own game.

there’s so much pent up energy in his body that he feels like he could run a mile. but he doesn’t. instead he jams his feet into his sneakers and orders a car, on a path of complete destruction.

you're midway through an episode of broad city when you hear a pounding on your front door, which you don’t expect. it surprises you so much that you actually have to take a second to calm your racing heart down from the panic.

you know who it is too, which scares you more. you weren’t expecting him to just show up like this, especially since it’s only been a little over fifteen minutes since your latest prank.

you were thinking maybe there would be an angry confrontation next time you went over to their house, but not right now.

the knocking comes again, louder and more impatient this time. you finally bring yourself to get off the couch, heading for the front door and squaring your shoulders as you go.

you swing it open a second later, and even though you expected him, you’re still troubled by chris’s expression. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so infuriated, so intense.

his eyes are dark as he stares you down, muscles straining and on display in his black wife beater. his entire face is flushed, and even though you know he took an uber here, it looks like he could’ve sprinted the whole way.

“do you think you’re fucking funny?” he seethes, taking a step toward you.

instinctively you move backwards, like two opposite ends of a magnet. chris raises an eyebrow, and you tilt your head.

“am i laughing?” you ask sharply.

“why are you messing with my life like this, huh? all because i made a comment to some dumbass kid?” he continues to rail you with questions.

you literally can’t help but just blink at him for a moment, completely at a loss over the fact that he sees nothing wrong with what he did.

“if you really believe that it wasn’t a big deal, you’re even worse than i thought.” you respond, voice quiet but lethal.

this time his anger actually falters, and his grimace turns to a slight frown. you’ve cursed him out plenty of times, but somehow this feels way more real. and it rips through him like a knife.

“yeah, i’m the awful one. you wanna know what wes was saying about you to his friends in the gym that day? he said that he was trying to fuck you for the roster, and that he was hoping to do it after your date so he wouldn’t have to see you again.”

he reveals this information rather bluntly. it just falls out of his mouth, and there’s no way to stop it, so he keeps going, “and then i told him all that stupid shit about you to scare him away, because i thought it was easier to keep hating me than to hear the truth about him.”

your jaw goes slack, lips parting even though you have no thoughts running through your head. or, more specifically, you’re having so many thoughts crowding you that you can’t pick one.

“i—okay, let me get this straight. instead of just being honest with me, you let me wait around outside a fancy restaurant by myself for an hour like a fucking fool?” you grill him, still somehow finding a way to be pissed off.

“i didn’t want to hurt you.” chris counters, taking another step toward you so he’s almost inside the doorway.

you stand your ground this time, staring him down defiantly. “don’t give me that bullshit, you’ve been tormenting me since the day we met and you know it.”

he shakes his head, a frustrated grunt leaving his lips. “why do you insist on misunderstanding me?”

“because you don’t make any sense! first you hate my guts, and now i’m supposed to just accept that you were supposedly looking out for me the whole time?” you throw your hands up in exasperation.

“i never hated you, y/n. not even for a second. and i know it’s not my place but he didn’t deserve to be anywhere near you, especially not after what he said.”

this absolutely infuriates you, and you place both of your hands in between your two bodies to shove him back onto the little patio. he’s stunned by your temper, but he only lets it show for a moment.

“what, and you do? you ever think about all of the shit you’ve said about me, chris?” you’re louder now, because you feel like you’re being made to look like an idiot.

he just approaches again, which sends you backing up into the apartment as he follows close behind. chris kicks the door shut and reaches out, one hand slipping behind your neck while the other moves to hold onto your hip, forcing you close to him.

“i didn’t mean any of it. i liked you from the moment i met you, and i hated that, so i took it out on you to try and keep you away. but i didn’t mean it,” he emphasizes, leaning in slightly so he’s practically breathing his words against your mouth, “let me show you.”

you can smell the musky cologne on his skin, trying so hard to ignore the shiver running down your spine from his proximity alone. your heart is beating out your of your chest and you briefly wonder if he can hear it.

“i don’t…i can’t trust you, chris.” you reply, turning your head so you can avoid his gaze, but he won’t let that happen.

he forces you to look back at him, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck so he can guide your head straight. chris watches your eyes grow wide, lips parting ever so slightly as your resolve continues to fade.

“yes you can, i promise. let me show you what i really think about you, please.” he begs, tilting a bit more so that his lips ghost over yours, testing the waters.

you haven’t been properly kissed in quite some time, and the desire to give in is so strong that you can’t fight any longer. so you lean into it, throwing your arms up so you can wrap them around his neck and pull him flush against your chest.

his mouth melts against yours, tentatively at first to make sure you’re comfortable. when you start to pick up the pace, kissing him with a newfound fervor, chris begins to let his tongue wander against yours more passionately.

then his hands slide down to grip your ass tightly, kneading the supple flesh with his fingers. you gasp against his mouth, an airy and delicate sound that makes his stomach twist. he’s been dying to hear that for over a year now.

a second later you feel him bite down on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and admiring the way the skin recoils as he lets go. you didn’t realize how much you would enjoy the mixture of slight pain and pleasure.

“tell me you want this too.” chris demands, lining his mouth up with your ear so that he can speak lowly.

normally you would protest, or insult him, or roll your eyes, but things have completely changed in the last few minutes. now all you can think about is how soft his kisses are, how you want to feel them all over.

so you nod with those doe eyes locked on him as he pulls away to study you, taking in your flustered state. “i want you to show me, chris.”

the sentence is music to his ears, and he can’t believe this is actually finally happening. you break your grasp on his neck, taking a step back so you can slip your hand into his.

you lead him down the hall toward your bedroom, heart thumping against your ribcage with each step you take. you’re nervous, but you also somehow feel more comfortable with him than the few guys who came before.

and sure, you’d never fully had sex with any of them. but now you’re kind of glad you didn’t, so chris can be your first.

your room is a bit messier than you’d like considering you weren’t expecting company, especially not in this part of the house, but you don’t have time to fix it now. it’s not like he gives a single shit; the only thing he’s focused on is you.

the tiny shorts you’re wearing have started to ride up as you tug him along, which only grabs his attention more. chris gives your butt a light smack with his free hand before twirling you back into his side with the other, pressing a steady kiss to your lips.

you laugh slightly, because you can’t help it, which makes him smile against your mouth. it really does feel corny, but he doesn’t care all that much. for you, he’s willing to drop the tough guy act.

“are you sure about this?” chris asks as he pulls away, his forehead pressed against yours as he awaits a response.

you lean in to peck him swiftly again before speaking. “i’m sure, really.”

he nods once, guiding you a few steps backwards so you fall down onto your own plush bed sheets. for a moment he admires the way your hair fans out around you, the slight ‘o’ of surprise that your lips make, trying to capture a mental picture of the moment.

your fingers find the bottom of his shirt in an attempt to speed things up, wrapping the material into your fist and bringing him down on top of you. he braces himself, arms on either side of you while he nudges your legs apart so his knee is between them.

you let your hands grasp his mostly bare shoulders as his head dips down, pressing kisses to your cheek, along your jaw, the hollow area underneath your earlobe. soft little noises fall from your lips as chris finally reaches your neck, careful not to be too rough as he sucks on the sensitive skin of your throat.

he adores it and he wants to hear more, to make them louder. so his mouth trails to your collarbone, which is luckily on display since you’re in a tube top. and then he lifts his thigh forward a bit more, ensuring that his knee brushes right against your clothed heat.

your hips grind down against his muscles almost involuntarily, eliciting a real moan as your cunt throbs desperately. you rock your hips against him at a quicker pace, loving the pressure that's beginning to build in your stomach from the stimulation.

“mmm, y’sound so pretty.” chris grumbles against your body, tongue sloppily running over the now irritated areas.

it’s the first time he’s ever really praised you, and considering it’s coming from the person you least expected, it makes it that much sweeter.

he pauses, pulling his head up so that he can hover over you. his hands begin to slide underneath your top suggestively and you help him, wiggling the stretchy material over your head.

you toss it to the floor, chest fully on display as the cold air rushes over your hardened nipples. a long breath passes by his lips as he takes you in, his dick straining against his sweats now as you gaze at him bashfully.

“quit staring.” you complain, though your voice holds no conviction.

“you make it hard not to.” chris shakes his head with a smile, leaning back down so that he can brush your worries away with another brief kiss.

this time you can feel his hard-on pressed against the inside of your thigh as his mouth searches yours, sloppier yet somehow sweeter this time around. his hand dances across your hip and up your side, moving higher and higher until his fingers are grazing over one of your exposed breasts, stopping to massage it roughly.

your back arches, rutting your chest into his grasp as you groan against his lips. chris pulls away, tiny smirk morphing his features.

“aw, you like that baby?” he goads, spreading his other palm out against the previously untouched mound of flesh, squeezing your nipples between his fingers lightly.

you can feel the wetness pooling at your core as he stays poised between your legs, continuing to tweak the sensitive buds in a way that’s deliciously enjoyable. you’re writhing under his hands, and he loves that you’re completely in his control.

but chris also knows that he can take you further, satisfy you more than you could’ve ever imagined. so he bows to your body, attaching his mouth to your throat and leaving several messy kisses.

his lips shift to brush against the area right above your chest, nipping at the skin lightly as he brings one hand back to grasp one of your tits. finally, he gets far down enough to flick his tongue across one of your nipples, his fingers pinching the other gently, swapping between them after a moment.

“fuck, chris.” you whimper, mind already becoming fuzzy from the carnal desire for more.

“god i love hearing you moan my name.” he admits before sucking the sensitive bud back into his mouth, toying with it a bit more just to drive you crazy.

he stays there for a moment as you both enjoy the dragged out foreplay. it’s a moment with you that he’s waited for for what seems like an eternity, and he wants it to last as long as possible.

and as much as he would like to linger in this spot forever, chris is craving even more of you. the tent in his pants is still growing from all of your beautiful noises and expressions, but he’s only worried about making this the best experience for you.

so he carries on, trailing down the valley of your breasts, wetting the area as he continues. he presses several slow kisses against your stomach, in a straight line leading directly to the waistband of your cotton pants.

you watch as he looks up at you through his long lashes, pupils blown out in lust. “can i take these off, pretty girl?”

“please.” the roles are reversed and now you’re the one begging him.

“so needy.” chris drags the ‘y’ out slightly as he simultaneously does the same thing to your shorts, careful to tug your thin and soaked panties with them.

the air rushes over the slickness that’s already developed, and you instinctively close your legs. you’ve never had anyone actually go down there, just a guy who stuck his hand in your pants to finger you—very poorly, if you’re honest—during seven minutes in heaven well over a year ago.

so it makes you a little self-conscious having him this close. he’s quick to pry you apart again, fully lowering himself to the floor of your room so he’s face to face with your pussy.

“can’t believe no one has ever seen you like this, you little tease.” his voice is low as he starts kissing your inner thigh, working his way in, “wanna taste you so bad.”

he’s growing closer to where you need him, and you throb when you feel his lips graze the innermost part of your leg. chris blows one singular breath right across your cunt, which shocks you slightly, before pressing a soft open-mouthed kiss to your clit.

you feel your legs tremble a little bit in his palms, your hands automatically going to tangle in his hair. a long whine escapes as his tongue works across you, and you can literally feel him smile in satisfaction.

the fact that it’s his mouth making you squirm like this, that he’s the only one that’s ever gotten to eat you out, is something he’s currently taking a lot of pride in.

he lightly teases your entrance, moving back and forth from that and sucking on your pulsing clit. it makes you grip onto his roots tighter, grinding down onto his face slightly as you moan his name again like a prayer. he swears he could cum in his pants right now, without you even touching him.

“you’re so fucking sexy.” he purrs against your cunt, the vibrations sending another tiny jolt through your body.

you can feel how hot your face is, how tense your stomach has become, and you can’t bring yourself to find any words. that is, until his fingers glide across your clit, rubbing over it lightly as you throw your head back against the mattress.

“holy shi—oh!” your voice catches in your throat midway through your sentence as he suddenly slips a finger inside.

a lewd noise escapes your throat once he does so, and he begins to pump it slowly. you’re finding it nearly impossible to keep your hips planted on the mattress, so he guides your leg over his shoulder and digs his nails into your skin to keep you still.

you rock your pelvis forward, connecting with his hand harder now as you chase the sensation, listening to the wet sounds of him gliding in and out of your cunt. chris adds another one of his slender fingers inside of you, and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to contain some of the desperate noises you’re making.

his own cock is pulsing as he continues, admiring the way your tits jiggle as he picks up his pace, the way your hair is slightly matted while your mascara collects under your eyes. he knows you want more just based on the way you’re bucking to meet his fingers, but he wants to hear you say it.

“is there something you’d like, sweetheart?” he asks, pressing another open kiss to your overstimulated clit.

you look down at him, meeting those pretty blue eyes as he awaits an answer, and you feel yourself shiver in both anticipation and from the current excitement.

“more, chris. i—need you.” you finally manage to get it out, voice pinched as you speak.

“what do you need, huh? you gotta tell me, use those words.” he demands further, and even though his taunting makes you shy, you realize you’ll have to answer if you want him to continue.

“need you inside me, baby.” you plead breathlessly, and he lets out an involuntary groan at the use of the pet name.

he didn’t expect you to play into the dirty talk, and at this point his erection is begging to be set free, to have you wrapped around him. so chris slows his fingers to a stop, leaving you feeling empty as he removes them.

a pout takes over your features as he stands up, placing his fingers in his mouth so he can suck your wetness off of them. it’s ridiculously racy, and it leaves you clenching around nothing as you wait for his next move.

“wanna be buried in this pretty pussy so bad.” chris growls, reaching to yank his wife beater over his head.

his chain bounces against his collarbones as he throws it away half-hazardly, tugging his boxers and sweatpants down to his ankles a second later. your eyes widen slightly as his dick springs free, slapping against his stomach as he steps out of his clothes.

precum dribbles out of the tip, which is angry and red from desire. you’re completely in a trance, staring as he takes himself into his own hand, pumping a few times so he can spread the slick around.

he notices the way you’re studying him in amazement, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “d’you want to give it a try, princess?”

your heart leaps into your throat, and even though you’re scared, you really want to learn how to make him feel good too. so you nod silently, extending your hand toward his cock, hesitating once you’re close enough.

“spit in your palm, wrap your fingers around it and then stroke, just like i was.” he instructs, so you suck in a breath and do as you’re told.

your newly-wetted hand closes around the bottom of his shaft, and he hisses out a curse as you start working up and down, squeezing the sensitive skin timidly. your thumb runs over his slit and he lets out a low moan, fucking himself into your fist.

“a-ah shit, just like that.”

you adore the admiration, unable to contain your smile as you apply some more pressure. his head is tilted back to the ceiling, eyes screwed shut as he enjoys the brief handjob. but chris can already feel the orgasm building, so he stills your movements by placing his fingers over your own.

your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “was it bad?”

he shakes his head immediately before he settles back down on top of you, bracing himself on his forearms as he leans in for a kiss. the taste of your arousal still lingers on his lips, which you surprisingly enjoy way more than expected.

“no, if anything it was too good. i would’ve finished from that alone.” chris admits against your mouth, which makes you feel insanely content.

“can’t have that, can we? not when i need you to fill me up.” you reply in a sultry tone, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that the comment made him blush.

“jesus, you can’t say shit like that to me.” he grumbles, moving to run his tongue along your jaw as his hand wraps around your throat.

chris squeezes the sides of your windpipe lightly, rutting his hips upward so that his dick slides against your drenched folds. the warmth from your center immediately causes his breathing to become labored, and you whimper as you feel his tip nudge your swollen clit.

“are you ready?” he pants into your ear, and you mumble a few pathetic words of confirmation to spur him on.

with that, chris uses the hand that was previously on your throat to line himself up at your entrance, looking up to catch your eye again. he pauses for a moment, so you give him a nod of encouragement.

“tell me if it gets too uncomfortable.” he says, intertwining his free fingers with yours so you have something to hold on to.

then he slowly starts to push himself inside, beginning with just the tip as your eyes screw shut. the stretch is painful at first, like you’re being split wide open by the sheer size of him, so you focus on your breathing as your grip on his hand tightens.

inch by inch he fills you up, until finally his full length is being gripped by your plush walls. you wince at the agonizing pressure, your nails digging into his back as he waits for you to adjust. you’re already clenching around him involuntarily, and he lets out a long groan.

“you alright, baby?” chris questions a beat later, concern laced in his voice.

“yeah, i think so.” you reply quietly.

“keep breathing, i’ll take it slow.” he promises, trying to comfort you as best he can.

you just nod, still latched onto his shoulder while his thumb strokes the back of your hand. his other palm clutches your hip, steadying himself as he begins to move in and out. you choke on your breath, doing everything you can to ignore the overwhelming ache.

it’s a feeling unlike any other, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to keep from crying out. slowly but surely he picks up his rhythm, rocking into you sensually as you finally begin to transition into the pleasurable part of the experience.

a moan falls from your lips, muffled slightly by his skin. it surprises the both of you, and it makes chris flush, completely aroused by the fact that he’s the first guy to ever make you feel this way.

“doing so well, taking it all for me.” he says in a whiny tone, shifting to give you a kiss as he marvels at how tight you’re squeezing him.

the pressure in your stomach from earlier comes back, building as chris begins to snap his hips a bit quicker. gasps escape your throat on loop every time he plunges back into your cunt, and he grunts from the feeling of you enveloping his dick.

“oh my god.” you whimper pathetically, positioning your hand on the back of his neck so you can pull yourself in to meet his strokes.

he loves that you’re taking more control, that you’re truly starting to enjoy yourself. he can feel himself growing closer to the edge, and it doesn’t help that you’re now clenching around him every time he bottoms out.

but he holds on, letting go of your hand so he can bring it between your bodies, brushing two fingers over your clit. you practically convulse in surprise, your pornographic moans filling the room as he rubs tiny circles against the sore bud.

“shit, chris!” you cry, and you can feel the band in your stomach getting ready to snap.

“let ‘em know, princess, tell ‘em who makes you feel this good.” he slides his fingers against you quicker, plunging so deep now that he’s tapping your cervix with every pump.

“i’m—” you don’t even have time to finish your sentence before your abs tense up, legs uncontrollably shaking now.

you lean into the wave, letting it wash over you as you find your release. chris is close behind, shuddering as his thrusts grow needy and sloppy. then you feel him twitch, his hot cum mixing with your own as it pours out from his slit. he eventually stills a few seconds later, both of your chests heaving as he slowly slides out of you for good.

he rolls to his back, slumping beside you so that both of your arms are pressed together as you each regain your breath.

you’re scared to speak first, terrified really, so when you hear chris clear his throat you’re thankful that he’s breaking the silence.

“that was…you’re so…fuck, you’re just perfect.” chris fumbles with his words, and you glance over at him with a small grin.

“i’m really glad it was you, chris. thank you.” you press a sweet kiss to his cheek, and this time you’re positive he’s blushing.

“i’m glad it was me too.” he confesses as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling your back to his chest.

it’s a comfortable feeling, being held by him, and it’s one that you want to enjoy forever.

“to think, we could’ve been doing that this whole time.” you rag on him a little, unable to remain completely serious.

he buries his chin in your neck, breath tickling your ear as he responds. “good thing we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

[death---dealer]

Girl when I tell you I absolutely NEED part 3 to Customary or I might die!! Omggg that yearning shit had me covering the smile on my mouth and licking my feet. 🤭 It’s too good! It’s too cute! You might actually be a wizard. I’m bowing down to you, slow-burn queen 🙌

My fingers.... They are burning.... with dESIRE.

Title: Wounded Pride. Fandom: ( Kindgom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Mentions of violence, blood, injury and mating. ) Words: 6K ( Someone stop me jk don't. ) Pairing: Implied! Noa x Human!Reader. Summary: You were ignoring each other, that much was clear. How long was it going to last? Noa felt like he was bursting at the seams and you felt like you had lost all sense of reasoning. ** Does Contain Spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. **

READ THE SERIES HERE. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ “Noa!” That was a frantic tone and lured the Chimp to raise his head in question. His ears moved to focus on where it was coming from. Off to his left, maybe 10 or so meters away. Not too far if he needed to run. He made a barking sound in response. Hearing his name was not enough.  His vision caught a few things. Leaves tangling against the ruins of a past structure. Echo in nature, through and through and hideously ugly. Nothing like what Apes built he beamed with decent pride at that. His body swung at the sound of his name vibrating along the walls encapsulating him like a barren playground. His set of feet and hands were pressed into the ground now. He was braced, ready to take off. Respond, Noa’s mind felt like it was melting, waiting for his fellow friends to communicate. He traced his gaze right along the trees that were bursting through the sturdy concrete, determined to grow in such ludacris circumstances. His chest rose and fell rapidly, faster than he had felt in quite some time, at least since his encounter with Proximus Caesar.  “Noa! You need to come quick!” The fur along his spine pricked at that, standing on edge. A sensation not often felt with him. It screamed ‘danger ahead!’ His nerves yelled at him, muscles feeling tense. The voice was very much Soona’s, tangling with Anaya’s as they began yelling over each other. Well, it couldn’t have been that serious if they were both taking time to yell, some tanglement of arguing with each other hitting Noa’s ears as he finally picked his pace up to a gallop. Coming to what could only be described as a skirting stop, Noa’s hands and feet dug into the earth below him to stop him from tumbling over, making quite crazed eye contact with Soona and Anaya as his mind caught up with his body. Both unharmed, he sighed from relief at that. Anaya was breathing heavily - Nervous? Noa questioned silently and looked at Soona again, shoulders fraught. He stared at her, expecting an explanation without having to ask for one. She was quick to oblige but didn't bother with words. Merely stepping aside, her entire self bumped into Anaya’s and they both shuffled to the side on all fours looking between Noa and what was behind them in the long grass that grew without care. Noa came forward, keeping his senses on guard in case there was danger with what Soona and Anaya had found. His friends were fast to follow right behind him. Noa never had it in him to advise that he was just as scared as they were at times like this. He swallowed it down and did what he needed. Soona and Anaya needed him to be brave and that was often his gift to them. Their gift back? Their unwavering friendship and support through the years. Green eyes scaled the grassy area in front of him to observe before he got too close. Some blades were painted red. Noa hesitated briefly. It had to be blood, Noa roughly vocalized to Soona and Anaya to stand back, stay back. They did just that, stopping their movements as Noa bridged the gap of two feet between himself and the patch. 

“Still… Alive?” Soona asked quietly. Noa glanced back at her, watching as she dipped her head precariously. Anaya was standing close to her, holding onto her arm out of fear. Noa looked back at the grass, or rather, what was in it. Between the long entanglements of weeds and vines he could make out the striking notions of blood splatter. Fresh, it still looked wet. Swallowing back something that was resting in his throat, Noa stood. If there was danger, he needed to appear as large as he could. One of the many tactics a Chimpanzee had when faced with the unknown. The extra height he got going from all fours to bi-pedal was all he needed to see clearly what was in that busted patch of grass. ‘Echo!’ He signed at Anaya and Soona. 

‘Has to still be alive!’ Anaya was fast to respond to his best friend, his hands finding it a bit difficult to move so quickly. The next set of words were jumbled but Noa understood. It had made a sound when Soona and Anaya probed it, which prompted them to call Noa in return. 

‘What…’ Soona’s signing was slow compared to Anaya’s. She was always more thoughtful and Noa savored that in this moment, trying so hard to keep himself from going straight into panic. ‘What… do.. We do?’

‘Put out of misery.’ Anaya wasn’t joking. 

Noa held his hand up, fingers twisted into a hard fist. Soona and Anaya both fell deathly quiet. He was not about to mercy kill. What was in front of him would die on its own once the cold of the night came around. There was evident damage to their legs, close to the ankles, blood pooling there and trickling down the smooth nature of the skin into the dirt below. He made a fast sign to his friends telling them. He heard them both gasp under their breath as Noa made a move closer, crouching to get more detail, his hands and feet tangling in on themselves with the spaced movement of Noa’s broad body. Cut around the temple, hit by rock maybe, or fell on face, burns around wrists, most likely from being bound. Noa was making quick notes of what he was seeing. He looked right. Nothing. He looked to the left and noticed blood droplets and traced their trajectory mindfully. It was coming from the direction of the cave that kept the Eagle Clan secluded from other Apes in the area. That was all Noa needed to know. The Echo in front of him must have been hunted, nearly to the brink of death.  ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

‘How?’ Anaya signed at Noa, huffing deeply at his friend who was pacing, very distraught. The sounds from the Ape in front of him told Noa to stop moving and to focus, pay attention to the conversation at hand but it was apparent with the shoulder movements of aggravation that that was not going to happen. Noa was an obsessive creature, and Anaya knew that. Once he was locked and entranced by something, by any force of nature, Noa would tear it open and figure it out to satisfy his need to fix, his need to deduce. That’s what made him so good at tinkering, at resolving. It must have been a secretive thing Noa wanted to talk about this time around, eager to get Anaya alone. Stalking and biding his time almost all day to get his friend pinned for a conversation. Without Soona, without his mother. ‘Echo got offended?’ The signing of those words were accompanied by a funny face, Anaya very obviously curious how Noa had managed that one. Neither had heard of an Echo being offended, though, from the Elders of the Clan, they had always made the assumption that they were quick to anger. Maybe the same thing, Anaya bargained with Noa, but Noa felt this was different than simple anger and told his friend that sternly.

Noa had put everything incredibly broad, unsure of how to approach his closest confidant with what had happened between himself and you. Too many details would give away Noa’s primal intent. He gave the gist of it with words a few minutes ago, Anaya intently listening to Noa’s voice waver. Up and down, the placement of his tone unsure and full of self-loathing. He continued, explaining in part the conversation about the human custom of kissing, only the important details, followed by a very cliff-noted version of the hunting endeavor. Anaya must have sensed the urgency, choosing to sign rather than put more effort into it by speaking. Anyway, he justified it further by thinking that signing was more private. Less likely for someone to overhear, or well…. Oversee. Tilting his head to the side, Anaya felt a sigh roll from him as Noa finally stopped pacing, now choosing to sit rather defensively on his hands and feet. ‘How?’ Anaya repeated. 

‘I do not know.’ Shamefully, Noa dropped his hands after admitting that, his jaw clenching tightly for a moment as he grinded his teeth together. They clattered, his canines distracting his train of thought for a split second as he moved his tongue over them. ‘Echo just…’ Signs were not coming to him. Thoughts were not coming to him. Throwing his hands up in vivid frustration, Noa gave up and let a growl fall from his lips, snarling his lips for a second as it became a bit louder before tapering into a hum of sorts. Anaya blinked, hunching forward on all fours and drifted his way very slowly to sit by Noa. 

‘Why… you bothered?’

‘I do not know.’ He repeated this time. 

Anaya nodded, only looking at his friend from the corner of his eye. ‘Maybe… Apology?’ That was definitely an avenue that Noa had considered, in fact it was the first thing that popped into his mind. Chimps were good at apologies. Never with words, often they reached their hands out, palms up and waited for the party getting the concession to accept. It had a great acceptance rate, but Noa doubted you’d want that. Just throw an apology your way and see how it sticks! What could go wrong? You’d never talk to him again…  He grunted out a denial to Anaya at that prospect and turned his shoulders away. Defensive in nature. 

‘You… need tell Anaya…’ He tilted his head in hesitation, knowing what he was about to suggest would be a dangerous path, even though they were friends. “What Noa actually said.” There was confidence in his verbalization, stressing and driving home to Noa that it was a necessity to spill his guts for Anaya to properly gauge the situation and help. “Asked.. about mating.” Noa was fast to speak, hoping that maybe his voice was too weak for Anaya to understand. He underestimated it though and it came out sounding like a sour grape. “Asked if pleasured.” Noa turned his face towards Anaya, giving him a certain look that told him all he needed to know. He got his needed information and now he needed to process. And… It surely brought to light a lot of things. 

A lot. 

Anaya sat back on his butt, displaying a rather surprised expression. Noa didn't bother looking at him, already able to see the emotions on his friend's face just in his mind. That’s what they got for years of being around each other. Each minute move either face or body was known and read right away. 

“Stupid.” He told Noa honestly which resulted in a chortle from the Eagle Clan’s leader. It was the sound of agreement. “Echo like privacy. Stupid to ask. Not like us! Keep many secrets away from Noa, from all Apes.” There was intense scrutiny in Anaya’s voice. There was a reason why the Elders told stories, wary ones, about the Echo’s. About how they were and how they disregarded things that weren’t important to them. Selfish! Anaya chuffed, wanting to pull Noa in physically and beat him into submitting, giving Anaya all the answers he needed to deduce what Noa was already enthralled in. Instead though, he urged, “Why ask?”

Noa dropped his shoulders at the mild scolding and dipped his chin towards his body. He knew what Anaya was saying was right and there was no logical excuse anymore why he asked what he did or why he felt somehow entitled to an answer from you. ‘Curious.’ He didn't have it in him to speak.

Anaya wasn’t seething perse, instead, he was statically quiet which was even worse to Noa. Anaya was a chatterbox, even if it was about nothing of consequence. This… Was out of the norm and it made Noa incredibly uncomfortable. He began shifting his weight from one side to another, swaying out of mere anticipation of being scolded again. And if Anaya got too into it, Noa could just choose to gallop away. He didn't have to take it! He was the leader. He was… He was the Eagle Clan. 

“Stupid.” Anaya muttered again, picking himself up and moving. He couldn’t be next to Noa as he processed. 

“Told me they only mate out of survival, hardly… the other reasons..” Anaya’s mouth popped open. Noa got further into the conversation than he led his friend to believe. Previously, the assumption was made that you didn't respond and merely began ignoring him out of offense. 

Anaya exploded. “Echo not stupid, Noa is. Should have left it to die in the woods when found. Then, Noa wouldn’t be here telling Anaya stupid things!”

Noa lurched at that. Not at Anaya, but unquestionably at the implications of his words. At least, that was what Noa was going to tell himself later when the guilt set in that he drew his aggression at his best friend. The animalistic movement was taken the wrong way, made evident as Anaya billowed as Noa approached him, drawing into himself to appear smaller, more weak, more favorable. Raising his hand up, Noa was chaste to brush his fingertips against Anaya’s open palm. Apology. Simple and clean. Anaya submitted to his friend and watched as he turned, leaving the Chimp still as dumbfounded as before. Though, with a bit more insight. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

You could smell dried blood but you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your heavy eyelids. Warmth was collapsing over you, wave after wave. Each one brought another one of your senses with it. There was a mild tingling in your right ear, prickling at your hearing as you tried to adjust it enough to figure out your surroundings. Last thing you remembered was stumbling… Hands pacing over a bricked wall in the dark, trying too hard to find a place where you didn't need to run for your life. Your hand pressing to your forehead, bloodied from a cut on the side near your temple, vision blurring in and out of focus. Your knees buckled from exhaustion, crashing onto grass that definitely appeared softer than it felt… It was hot for a second but then it was awfully cold, your body taking a plunge into an invisible ocean of sheer ice. Then, it all went black. Maybe, if you were lucky, you were dead. Whirling endlessly in limbo somewhere between the Earth and the Heavens, searching for the next place to go. Maybe you were asleep, dreaming up violent situations from your subconscious. After all, it did what it wanted to in your dreams; you had no control over that. Would you be aware if you were dreaming though? That idea spurred you to cross it off the list of possibilities. Hm… Or maybe you were dead, you repeated. Your eyes did not want to open. You were so warm… Another wave hit you all of a sudden and you became aware of the smothering sensation of animal fur against your back. Against your arms. Against your legs. Against your entire body. Voices without bodies were floating around you. They sounded human enough and that put you at some ease. You jumped the gun there. Thinking you had been caught by a bunch of ravenous Apes. Ha. Ha. Ha…

Jolting, you were abruptly conscious. 

Not conscious enough, you decided. Drawing a deep breath into your lungs to accommodate for the lack of air you got while passed out, you found your eyes peering into green ones directly above you. Not just regular green, you tilted your head and tried desperately to ignore the throb coming from your temple. Entrancing, grappling for dominance with flecks of outstanding gold against a canvas of darkened pupils. Oh yeah, you were dead. You were definitely looking into the eyes of God, you said sarcastically in your wounded trance and shut your eyes again. “Awake! Echo is awake!” You heard that clear as day and it did nothing to help the already soundless nature of the drumming in your head. It was followed up but a few soft hoots of acknowledgement which caused the hair on your arms to stick up in defense and your eyes to fly open without reserve. Ape. Ape. Ape. You counted them with wide eyes. Three. Maybe? Maybe more? You had a hard time telling as your eyes were adjusting back to some sort of normalcy after being drenched and flooded with blood. Wherever you were was not very bright save for a fire in the corner that drifted up what appeared to be wooden planks that were tilted inwards. No natural light came in and it beckoned your internal clock to assume that it was night time. You were in a structure of some type; that was easy to figure out regardless of lighting. With Apes. Not just Apes, you squinted and raised yourself on your forearms. Chimpanzees. Three sets of eyes, similarly colored to the ones you woke up peering into. You had no idea nor interest in knowing which one was observing you so closely. If you weren’t dead before, you may as well have been at that moment as you sprinted backwards, almost face first and staggered to your feet. Automatically, you were in a defensive position, trying to ignore the feeling of twisted pain in your ankles. Racing your hands everywhere, you tried to find something to grab. Something to defend yourself with. You needed to! There was nothing in the vicinity. You couldn’t even tell where the door was and your eyes were frantic to find some sort of escape. Shoulders rising and falling quickly, you turned and looked at the Apes again. Your heart was going to jump out of your chest. Your head was pounding and you felt like if you moved your feet anywhere, you were going to tumble. What did they want?

Your mind was flying at a faster speed than you were able to process any cognitive thought. Words were blaring in your ears without anyone yelling. Your group of fellow Humans were all hunted, their chanting still wild in your head. Apes were dangerous. Apes showed no compassion. They liked the kill, they liked the satisfaction. The deeply ingrained instinct to be afraid of them because you didn't understand them, the wild weaned fear of what they could do to you. What they were planning to do! Were they… Oh god, they were going to kill you and then skin you and then eat your insides--- you scrambled again, no regard for how you must have looked as you dropped to your knees, muttering under your breath as you flew around on all fours. You needed to find a way out. There had to be a way out. They were going to attack, they were moving!

Wait.

You paused, hunching on your hands and knees, feeble attempts made to catch your breath but you still found yourself panting like a wild animal. Mouth agape, you looked at the Apes in the room with you before letting your gaze fall down to their hands. Were they… Using sign language?Your back came into crushing contact with the wooden wall behind you, earning a tiny flinch from you as your right shoulder blade radiated. You must have been bruised there, you thought. Despite the grinding pain you were in, you tried to push further back as one of them, only slightly bigger in stature compared to the other two dropped to all fours, now eye level with you, and languidly moved towards you. First a hand, followed by a foot and then repeated until they were right in front of you. Your breath caught in your throat as they leaned in, deathly close to your face that you were able to smell them in your nostrils, mixing now with that previously noted taste of dried blood. Oh, they were going to rip your face off.

“Alive.” They said to you, taking a brash step back when you moved. No shit, you wanted to say but you couldn’t find your voice. Your eyes widened at the movement of them and the sound of their voice. Not aggressive or mean, but it was pensive and quiet. Observant, and you wondered if they were even talking to you or just verbally acknowledging to the other two Apes that you were, well… Alive. Whoever this Ape was… Was courageous enough to face you, to be near you but obviously held some reservations. There was absolutely no way they were just as afraid as you were. 

“Injured.” That was directed towards you, eye contact frantically being made when the smell of fresh blood became more abundantly noticed. Almost afraid to look down, you felt a small gush coming from your right calf. It slipped down the curve of your muscle, mixed with something… A paste of some sort that in itself, in your cloudy disposition, was rather fragrant if you focused on it. Something like a root, pulled and crushed from deep in the Earth. How did that… Get there? You looked at your injury, nothing more than a gash, deeper than it appeared though and it ached if you moved your foot in any awkward positions. “Wh…” Your voice came out ridiculously hoarse, hand reaching up to touch the outside of your throat. The Ape in front of you was watching it all. The inquest on your face, your fingers holding along your throat and focusing on your heart beat. How long have you been out? A day? Two? A week? Swallowing hard, you lubricated your vocal cords just enough to force out a question, “Wh-- What did you… do..t’me?” That was definitely slurred.

“Did nothing!” Another Ape finally spoke, their voice frantic and distraught.Not from nerves…. Right? You looked at them, then at the one adjacent, who was just a touch smaller than the other two, before your gaze fell on the one closest to you, wrought breathing causing your lungs to feel rather tight. Shifting, you tried to relax but found that it only brought discomfort. 

“Injured.” The one in front of you said again, this time with a bit more confidence. Whether it was true or faux, you had no idea but it was difficult to sort anything through your thought process at the moment. You were barely processing the fact that there was quite literally a hole in your calf let alone that an Ape was communicating with you so… Civilly. “Found in… ruins. Dying.” Your lips parted, suddenly becoming aware that you were thirsty. The severity of the words spoken hit you like a feathered ton of bricks. Softly at first, it was initially hazed by the idea that they were capable of saving you instead of killing you. Then, it sank in and it felt like your body was tied to a chair, someone banging on your chest over and over again to just drive the point home that all your preconceptions about these Apes might have been wrong. No! It couldn’t have been wrong! You lived your entire life afraid of them, being told from your childhood to be afraid and to always run away. It was only solidified when each of those Humans you were around were hunted, killed and their bodies dragged around in a triumphant show-boat by a group of Apes on the back of their horses. Squeezing your eyes shut at that visual, often the cause of nightmares for you, you shook your head vehemently. There was no way. 

“We…” They continued on, “saved.” There was a gesture towards the two Apes across the room. “Brought Echo back here… Spear head in leg,” Huh, that explained that, you bargained for some sort of reality. “Took out, stopped bleeding then…” They came to a slow stop and signed something over at the other two. You had no idea what they were saying now. Sign language was not your forte. Maybe, if you could push aside the vibration in your head, you’d be able to read them from body language but that was thrown out the window when you opened your eyes, tears forming at the edges and ultimately blurring your vision. 

“Echo then wake up.”

You snapped, “Wha… What the hell is an Echo?”One of the two behind lurched ever so slightly at the apparent aggression you put into your words, but the one crouched in front of you put a hand up to tell them to stop. 

It gestured at you. 

You rolled your eyes. That must have been their name for Humans. Each clan called them something different, you had figured that out over the years. Instead of having individual names, the human race was deduced down to a word such as ‘Echo’ or ‘Nova’, which you had heard in passing, speckled usually in more secluded clans and only talked about in detail when you were around the fire late at night with other humans. It was lore, it was ghost stories. It was reality now. “I--- Have a name…” You whispered. “(Name).” Hm… With a tilted head to the side, a response came. “Noa.” Finally giving you a bit more clarity. He pointed at the two Apes behind him accordingly, “That Soona,” She looked at you, terrified obviously, but seemingly confident in her friend's ability to talk to you. “Anaya.” Even more terrified, and not as obviously convinced in this Noa Ape to be as outrageously courageous as he was appearing.

“Are…” You quivered in on yourself and looked at him. A string of tears hit your cheeks, hurting at your temple even more than before and profusely lit the flame that caused the beating in your head to intensify rapidly. “Are you going to kill me?” Noa looked at you, draping you in some sort of melancholic state as you realized just how… human his eyes were. How they observed every morsel of your face, taking in the details and probably thinking just how hideous you were compared to Apes. How he’d scrutinize your scent, your well being, your entire self. But, he said nothing, gaze flickering between your eyes before he moved attention to your calf again. You followed suit. It looked worse than it felt, at least you had that. If he were going to kill you, wouldn’t he have already done it? There was a fleeing moment where he felt offended at your accusation, feeling the same coming from Soona and Anaya - primarily the latter. But, he had to remind himself, you were Echo. You did not know any other ways.

“Not all Apes are that way. We do not kill… Echo’s here.” You stiffened watching as he drew himself onto his hands and feet again from his default crouching stance. That was a complete and full sentence. You tried to not bark at him with confusion, not impressed by any means… Well… No! Not impressed. You knew they could talk. It was well---You knew… they could… Your eyes blurred and you felt your head fall to the side before you urged yourself into a more aware state. It lasted only moments before you lulled into an awkward dance with unconsciousness and invested fear. Coldness rocketed right through your leg at the application of more of the root smelling paste to your wound. It didn't sting perse, instead, it felt numbing. Were you so out of it that you didn't see Noa grabbing what appeared to be a clay jar of sorts? Fingers pushing into it and then smearing its contents on your body? You so desperately wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing, putting on you but you were shot with another wave of black. You passed out. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

Almost sickly aware of the pair of green eyes on you at all times, intricately staring at your movements down to the minute shift of your shoulders as you breathed, you did everything you could to ignore them. Your hands were busy; helping Soona untangle some twine that had gotten itself into a mess of very intricate knots. She had praised you for your help, explaining that ‘Echo hand… smaller than Ape..’ It was a simple and gentle compliment from her, you being grateful to be of some use to someone else in the Clan and not just Noa. With your hands working, your mind fell into a leisurely state as you tried so desperately to convince yourself that Noa wasn’t foolish enough to pull you away from a social situation with Soona. It would seem suspicious and ultimately, Soona would tell Anaya who would then in turn absolutely panic and tell Noa to back off, leave you be and that the only purpose you served here was to please Noa’s curiosity about the Teachings of Caesar. Thinking those things did nothing to help you feel calm. In fact, it was very much the opposite. Your mind did not stop at that though, enticing you to look up. You swept the entire village with your gaze. He had to be there somewhere, he rarely chose to drift off by himself without either of his friends, or even you on occasions but that was only when you served a purpose to him, you convinced yourself that at the moment the agreement was made that you would help Noa understand about human culture. You were still actively trying to convince yourself of that after the last two conversations that abhorrently played in your head in excruciating detail. The absolute devastation on his face when he realized that he had asked you the wrong thing and your petty response was the top of the list for your mental replays. It was your pettiness and inability to say anything positive in response to him that got you the most worked up despite your answer to him being that of pure truth. Humans didn't mate, in Noa’s words, for pleasure. They mated for survival. Setting your twine down now that it was a straight line, you looked over your shoulder once more before glancing down to pick up another knotted piece to work on. Well… What were you supposed to tell him? Looking at it now in a less offended state, you should have just told him that you didn't want to answer. There were a few times in the past that Noa attempted to push a question on you, soon coming to embrace acceptance that you weren’t willing to give him any response and he’d drop it. The two of you never fought about it, never went days upon days without talking or seeing each about them. Were you even fighting? Tilting your head, you shuffled on the ground and spread your legs out instead of sitting cross-legged like you had been for at least the last half hour. Then you began bargaining. He had asked you before if you had mated. If you had someone before you found your way to the Eagle Clan. You never answered him, even then. It was left alone for a long time, Noa not wanting to pry into obviously human privacy. So he was consciously aware of the status of the question he begged you to answer only a few days ago.  You fixated on the way he had signed that word. Pleasure. It was a slow signing, his two hands in front of his chest with a perpendicular circular motion. It was a flurry of intensity. The question. Your chaste answer. Noa falling silent next to you, no doubt self-reflecting at the idiocy of the question. And then… Oh… You had the absolute torture of being silent for the rest of the hunting trip. Noa ignored you, you could sense the coldness coming off of him in waves due to his inner thoughts taking over. You wanted nothing more than to ask him when he inquired about pleasure. How he even knew that it was a pleasurable experience for a human. Was it for Apes? Chimpanzees? You had no idea, choosing to linger in your ignorance and figure that it was not an element to their mating standards.

Huffing, you sat your twine back down and told Soona in a soft tone of voice as to not alarm her, “I need to go pee.” She let you go with silence, figuring your rather fast pace was due to really needing to relieve yourself.

A quick excuse to get you on your legs, pacing towards the right and through the entire embankment of the village to the very edge. Kicking a rock under your foot as you approached the small creek, the very sight of the first incident with Noa, you felt like doing nothing more than grabbing your hair and screaming to the high heavens. What was wrong with you!? Now you were the foolish one, asking questions that shouldn’t need to be asked, that didn't need an answer because what fruit would come from knowing if Apes mated at all for pleasure?

Coming around the small creek embankment, your fast feet came to an almost stumbling stop. Your mind didn't process as quickly as you halted harder than anticipated and almost felt yourself go face first into the shallow water in front of you from the sheer momentum you had. A set of broad shoulders, lined delicately with thinning fur in preparation for the summer, were facing you. Sun peeked across the west as it began its gentle descent into night, flushing the sky now with a light hue of pink and orange. Ah yes… That oh so familiar body in front of you, hand dipped in water in quite solace was none other than the Chimp you were ignored by for days. Well, not just ignored by. You did your fair share of skipping around the stone to not run into him.

Tightly wrapping your fingers into fists at your side, you contemplated going back. It appeared he hadn’t heard you, hadn’t sensed you coming or at the very least, you weren’t worth turning around or acknowledging. Your heart sank at that thought. You were just another tool he used to get his way into fixing a problem that wasn’t his to fix. He… Looked so small… You brought your bottom lip in and chewed it out of deliberation, eyes scaping up his back, broad by nature, but from his posture now, it was brought in on itself and he looked reminiscent of a little kid who had just gotten into big trouble. Maybe, you muttered inside of your own head and trailed your way towards him. You were still contemplating if you wanted to talk to him, but the very least you could do was to appear next to him and give the chance.

‘Know you are there.’ There went your element of surprise as Noa brought his hand back in and rested it against his chest in a coiled position. He wasn’t just crouching, he was holding himself.

“I---” You stumbled backwards, feet shifting to move your weight but your mind was telling you not to run. To confront. You didn't want to! You wanted to leave it alone, you didn't want to… To… Have to see his face. “I’m sorry, I didn't know you’d be up here, I just needed to---”

“Think.”

Swallowing softly, you planted yourself behind him, only a few feet and looked at the water that was so enviously caressing his hand. Looking down at your own palm, you felt it tingle with want… You wanted to be that water and freely float yourself against him in some bid to calm, ease… Love… “Yeah…” That was spit from your mouth so softly, almost afraid that Noa wouldn’t be able to hear. He didn't turn to face you so you figured that he did in fact hear and was either waiting for silence to fall over the two of you again or for you to say something else. He waited.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・ Tag List: @ohwaitimthewriter @saturnnie-03 @hera-annwn @filliandkili @hadesbabygurl @supergoat12 @callsignwindow @moonchild1433 @kaenalsha @whamsworld @yummyfant @unsteady-bitch @twinspineout

( Sorry if tumblr is a jerk and doesn't tag properly. It does that sometimes I've noticed. )

[yjhariani]

When you arrived home, Simon was already waiting for you. He opened the door for you, hugged you hi, and kissed you welcome. Upon walking further inside, you were somehow being walked away towards the bedroom.

You stopped walking, you turned your destination towards the kitchen. Simon, immediately blocked your way.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Where are you going?” Simon asked back.

“To the kitchen, get some water,” you answered.

“I’ll get it for you, just wait in the bedroom,” Simon said.

That sounded very suspicious to you. Well, his body language was telling you that. So, you slouched your shoulders as you looked at Simon.

“Why?” you questioned.

“You just got here,” Simon cupped your face with one hand and rubbed his thumb on your cheekbone. “Maybe you’d like to rest.”

“You’re hiding Soap in the kitchen again, aren’t you?” you suspected.

“Not at all,” Simon insisted, gently pushing you towards your bedroom again. “Just wait, alright?”

“What’s in our kitchen, Simon?” you asked anyway.

“Nothing,” Simon promised.

“Let me go there, then,” you replied.

“Worried I can’t do that, love,” Simon sighed.

“Why?” you continued.

“No reason. Just—”

In a swift, quick motion, you managed to manoeuvre your way around Simon. From there, you rushed towards the kitchen with Simon failing to grab you in place.

Soon, you stood in the kitchen and saw almost most of the walls and flat surfaces were black, especially the area by the stove. One of the wooden chairs looked burned, too. Napkins were nowhere to be seen and one that was seen was camouflaged by the charred wall.

Simon caught up with you and immediately stood in front of you, putting his hands on your upper arms.

“I’ll get you the water—”

“What happened here?” you asked him. “Don’t say ‘Nothing’ because I’m looking at the damage. Did you play with grenades? Did Soap insult you too harshly?”

“No—I… there’s, uh—f…,” Simon exhaled as he looked down for a second before looking back at you. “I tried to cook something for you. I was thinking that I should be able to have a few tries if I started midday, but I forgot for hours and there was a fire.”

Seeing that you frowned, Simon moved his hands to your face. However, he retracted his hands immediately before gently placing them back on your face.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“I’m fine,” Simon stated.

You put your hands on Simon’s wrists and moved his hands off you. You looked at his palms and saw redness all over. By the looks of it, it was likely that Simon touched something hot by accident—likely a pair of pot handles.

“I’m fine,” Simon repeated.

“Your hands are burned,” you pointed out.

“No,” Simon insisted.

You looked at him in disbelief.

“Alright, I’m sorry I burned the kitchen. I’ll clean up—”

“Sweetheart, you tried something, alright? That’s great and I love you for it, but you hurt yourself,” you cut him off. “You’re not fine.”

Simon did not respond at first, only locking his gaze on you.

“Did you do something about it already? You know what, I’ll go ask the neighbour for some aloe—”

“You love me,” Simon quietly said, but he looked surprised that he actually said that aloud because he did not intend to.

“Of course I do,” you sighed. “Now, let’s take care of you first, alright? We’ll deal with this mess later.”

“I’m fi—”

You cut him off with a finger on his lips. Simon moved your finger off his lips.

“If it makes you feel better, you could just kiss ‘em better,” Simon said. “I’m fine otherwise.”

“No,” you scoffed. “I’ll take care of them, okay? Just say yes.”

Simon took a moment before saying, “Alright.”

You gave him a smile.

“Thank you for trying,” you said.

"I'll try again," Simon said.

"We'll need a couple more kitchens, then," you teased.

[keerysfreckles]

superglue — steve harrington

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: when y/n is needed by steve and a middle schooler to fight an interdimensional dog

warnings: use of y/n, she/her pronouns, mentions of wounds and blood, some lines will not be accurate to the actual scene, possible spelling errors

a/n: back in my writing era specifically for my pookie aly @keerysbrowneyes <3 (going through my inbox asap i promise)

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n loved steve.

her and steve have been the best of friends since the middle of second grade, when steve asked if he could have one of y/n's chocolate dipped marshmellows her mother packed her. how could seven year old y/n say no to eight year old steve's lopsided smile and missing front teeth.

ever since the two have been inseparable. throughout middle school and high school steve somehow managed to drag y/n into all of his antics and strange behavior.

in eighth grade steve managed to get her to go with him to egg the principals house as a dare. and in freshman and sophomore year he convinved her and his large group of friends to go skinny dipping while it was barely thirty degrees outside. (they all got frostbite and couldn't feel their fingers or toes for a solid week).

these reasons explain why him and some middle schooler were standing in front of y/n's red front door.

"why are we asking this girl for help? we could've been halfway down the train tracks right now!"

"will you relax? you said the more help we get the better the plan will be."

after three knocks on the door, it opens to reveal y/n with the most confused expression steve has ever seen on the girl.

she points to the kid, "why do you have a child with you? what-"

the child in question raises his hand to shake y/n's, catching her off gaurd.

"dustin henderson, pleasure. now we need to go," with that he walks back towards steve's parked car, making him deliver some form of an explanation.

y/n crosses her arms as steve finally responds.

"it's a very long story, but me and dustin need your help with something."

steve's big brown eyes lock with y/n's in a plead, as he flashes a dopey smile. she sighs, not questioning anything while slipping her shoes on to follow steve to his car.

steve taps the passenger seat window.

"what?" dustin asks.

"it's y/n's seat, get out."

"the hell? i was here first steve. make her sit in the back."

y/n chuckled at the boys' bickering, smiling proudly as dustin fussed even more while getting in the back seat.

"can one of you explain why you dragged me out of my house on this fine saturday?" y/n asked a few minutes into the drive, watching steve drive towards the woods near her house.

"we're baiting a monster to a junk yard," dustin deadpans as steve parks the car next to a set of train tracks.

y/n only laughs, but still gets out of the car, only to be met with steve and dustin pulling buckets of meat, gloves and backpacks out of the trunk.

"you can't be serious right now. there's no such thing as monsters," y/n chuckles again.

"just put some gloves on and help," dustin demands.

"only if you have proof of said monster."

"oh we'll have proof," steve replies. the slight waver in his voice confirms well enough for y/n not to take this lightly, as she grabs a bucket of meat in her gloved hands.

the trio started walking down the train tacks, y/n and steve stayed relatively close to each other, while dusting walked a few feet ahead of them.

"so what kind of monster are we baiting with all this meat?" y/n asks.

dustin stops and turns to the older teenagers before responding, "picture a dog. now add slime and teeth and gross viens and a long tail. oh and no face."

y/n simply nods, while dustin turns back around.

the trio walked a few feet again before steve starts a conversation with dustin.

"all right let me get this straight. you kept something you probably knew was dangerous just to impress some girl?"

"okay that's grossly oversimplifying things," dustin exaggerates.

"why would she like some slug anyway?"

"i thought you said it was a dog," y/n pipes up from behind the boys.

"it was a slug, but now it's a dog," dustin answers, before looking back towards steve, "and it's an interdimensional slug? cause it's awesome," he giggles.

"don't you think you're trying to hard? what if she doesn't even think the slug is cool?"

"not everyone can have your perfect hair all right?" dustin lets out a sight of defeat.

steve shakes his head, "it's not about the hair man. the key with girls is to act like you don't care. drives 'em nuts."

y/n can't help but roll her eyes as dustin asks, "even if you do care?"

"exactly."

"then what?" curiosity fills dustin's voice again.

"you uh, wait till you feel it," steve smirks.

"feel what?"

"y'know like before it's gonna storm, you'll feel this like, electricity."

dustin starts going on a small rant about electromagnetic currents, before steve cuts him off.

"no no no, like a sexual electricity. you feel that, that's when you make your move."

y/n can't believe her best friend was giving a twelve year old relationship advice. she starts zoning out, continuing to plop down chunks of meat every now and then on the weathered train tracks.

the boys in front of her continue their conversation.

"what type is y/n?"

steve looks behind him, noticing the girl is a bit farther behind them, "what about her?"

"well is she a ninja? lion? some other secret third option?"

"y/n's different. she's not like any other girl i've met. that's why she's my best friend."

"bullshit."

steve's caught off gaurd, "sorry, what? what's bullshit?"

"you two are way more than friends."

"oh yeah? how do you know that? you just met her today, and have some analysis on us?"

"well considering you've brought her up in almost every conversation we've had, wanted to go to her for help with dart, and now are calling her different from other girls. i'm just doing the math."

"yeah, well stop," steve deadpans, sighing as he looks back at the girl again.

a few minutes of silence goes by, as y/n now catches up to steve and dustin.

"faberge," steve blurts out.

both y/n and dustin's eyebrows furrow.

"what?" dustin asks.

"it's faberge organics."

y/n starts giggling from besides steve, knowing where this is probably going. in all eleven years of knowing steve "the hair" harringon, not once has she been told his secret hair care routine.

"use the shampoo and conditioner when your hair's damp, not wet okay?"

"not wet, damp," dustin repeats.

"then four puffs of farrah fawcett spray."

this makes y/n burst out laughing, making dustin join in as well.

"something funny to you?" steve turns, annoyed by his best friend.

y/n shakes her head, "no, no of course not. other than the fact you use a girl's hair styling products."

"you guys tell anyone i told you this," he points at both dustin and y/n, "your asses are grass, got it?"

they both nod, before dustin asks, "farrah fawcett, really?"

"i mean she's hot."

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

after what felt like forever, y/n, steve and dustin made it to the junkyard dustin was leading them to.

"good call dude," steve praises as y/n pats dustin on the back, making the boy smile.

they pile the rest of the meat into a large pile in the middle of the junkyard, when a new voice makes them look to the right.

y/n guesses it's some of dustin's friends, but he doesn't look happy about them being here.

dustin drags the other boy behind a red rusted car, while the girl walks over to y/n and steve.

"hey, i'm max," she holds out her hand.

"i'm y/n, and that over there is steve," max nods. "i think the plan is to grab any trash we can find to cover the windows on this bus, alright?"

with that the new trio quickly begin covering the bus with old plates of metal, car doors, and wire, before steve goes off to find dustin and his friend.

the second friend of dustin's soon introduces himself to y/n, making the girl smile at all the kids' kindness towards her.

time went by far too quickly, as the sun was now setting and the group of five was sitting in different places around the bus.

lucas was on top of the bus with a pair of binoculars glued to his eyes. max was sitting in one of the torn up bus seats. dustin was anxiously pacing. y/n and steve were sitting next to each other on the floor, while steve was busy flicking a lighter.

"so you really fought one of these things before? and you're sure it wasn't a bear?"

"shit, don't be an idiot okay? if you don't believe us, just go home," dustin pouts.

"jeez, past someone's bed time?" max replies, before going up the ladder in the direction of lucas.

"dustin!" y/n scolds.

"that's good, just show her you don't care."

y/n punches steve in the arm.

"i don't," dustin responds.

steve turns as dustin sits down. he notices y/n's nervous habit of picking at her nails. the last time he noticed her do it was sophomore year before her driving test. and now a year and a half later she was doing it again.

"hey, you okay?" he stops flicking the lighter.

y/n nods, "yeah. i mean i've never fought a monster before," she smiles slightly.

"you'll be fine, trust me. i'll protect you," steve smiles at her, watching as the worry leaves her tired eyes.

"thanks steve."

the sweet moment however was cut short, by a distant growling noise, and dustin jumping up to the wire covered slit in the side of the bus.

"lucas, what's happening?"

"hold on!" lucas yells.

"who knew twleve year olds could be full of so much sass?" y/n questions as steve helps her up off the floor.

"right?" he agrees with a low chuckle.

everyone on the bus soon spots the monster they were looking for. y/n couldn't help but grip steve's jacket sleeve tighter than she was a minute ago, when she sees the monster's face.

well, resemblance of a face. she shivers at the light chittering noises as he sniffs the pile of meat.

"why isn't he taking the bait?" dustin asks no one in particular.

"maybe he's not hungry," y/n guesses.

"maybe he's sick of cow," steve then answers, beginning to back away from y/n and dustin, just as max climbs down the ladder.

"steve, what are you doing?" dustin asks.

"just get ready," he tosses y/n his lighter, as he grabs a bat from besides the door.

"steve are you insane? you could get killed out there," y/n hisses, only wanting him to say he's joking and stand next to her again.

y/n's breath hitches as steve goes out the busted doors and into the lion's den. or would it be dog's den?

whatever it may be, it only stresses the older girl out more once the demodog can be seen in front of steve.

as steve stops mocking the demodog, he swings his nailed back more times than he can count, as he runs away from the monster whenever it chases him.

the three younger kids begin yelling for him at the same time, panicking for him. y/n can only bite her nails and watch in terror as her best friend might be killed in the next five minutes.

"he's insane," max calls out.

"he's awesome," dustin responds with a smile.

lucas calls out from above, alerting steve of the other dogs approaching.

"there's more of them?" y/n questions dustin.

dustin avoids her question before yelling through the window, "steve! abort!"

max and y/n join in on the yelling, until y/n begins opening the bus doors.

steve stumbles up the steps and is out of breath after he shoves the door closed, now only inches away from y/n.

"you're an idiot."

"are they rabid or something?" max asks.

"they can't get in! they can't!" dustin yells as one of the dogs rams itself against the metal doors.

steve grabs y/n's arm to bring her away from any form of danger, something he's gotten used to doing over the past few years.

dustin begins yelling god knows what into his walkie talkie set, as lucas climbs down the ladder and into the group of worried kids.

y/n takes in a deep breath and grabs steve's bat from out of his hands.

"y/n what the hell?" he asks, before his eyes widen, watching her begin the trek up the ladder.

he grabs her waist, stopping her, "what on earth do you think you're doing?"

"what if more are up there?"

"then let me handle it!" he whisper-yells.

"no, you stay here with the kids. they seem to trust you more."

y/n starts walking up the ladder again, definitely missing the feeling of steve's big hands on her waist.

y/n makes it to the top of the bus, clutching the nailed bat in her hands until her knuckles practically turn white. her head twists and body turns at any sound she hears, not wanting to take any chances at missing one of those dogs.

she fully turns around at the sound of claws on metal, watching as a demodog crawls onto the top of the bus.

the color in her face drains as she beings walking towards it. steve and the kids inside the bus can't help but start calling out her name, just like they all did when steve was outside.

the demodog growls at her, as y/n holds the bat up, ready to swing. however another demodog makes it way up from the other end of the bus.

thankfully, dustin notices the faint prints of the dog's feet towards the back and is quick to alert steve.

"y/n!" he yells up the ladder, "there's two, you have to get down!"

"i'm kinda busy here!" her voice shakes, and she prays that steve doesn't notice. he does.

once the first demodog is close enough, she swings the bat with as much force as she can muster and it rolls off the bus onto the dried grass beneath her.

she lets out a sigh of relief, althoguh steve's words finally register, just as the second demodog runs towards her and slashes it's claws through her left leg. the force makes it so y/n falls forward, making steve's bat fall out of her hands and lands with a thud farther down the bus.

steve's head immediately picks itself up as he hears y/n's ear splitting scream, followed by the call of steve's name. he skips two rings at a time as he climbs the ladder, scrambling to get through the opening.

his eyes widen as y/n's trying her hardest to kick the demodog away, but move away from it at the same time. however she can't move much because of the pain seering up her leg. steve turns his head, noticing his bat behind him, and is as quick as possible to swing at the dog. he gets the dog off the bus in two swings.

as soon as he takes another look at y/n, he drops the bat and kneels in front of her.

"hey, hey you're okay," his calm voice is an exact opposite of everything the two teens just went through.

y/n shakes her head and cries more as steve looks down at the gashes in her leg. there's three thick lines of skin missing, with blood dripping down her leg, ruining her pants and single converse.

out of instinct, steve takes off his signature grey jacket and places it over y/n's leg. she reaches forward and holds onto steve's arm as if her life depended on it.

"steve!" she cries more.

"i know. i know it hurts baby," the petname rolls of his tongue before he can stop it, "but we need to stop the bleeding okay? it'll help in the long run."

y/n leans her head forward, crying into steve's neck as he continues tending to her.

"dustin! max! lucas! i need your help!"

the three middle schoolers come up quickly, dustin already looking for things in his backpack as he sits down besides steve.

lucas helps dustin find anything to help stop the bleeding, as max sits next to y/n and rubs her back.

steve throws his now bloodied jacket somewhere on the top of the bus, as dustin hands him a few paper towels. steve's heart rate calms slightly as the blood flow has slowed down since he began helping y/n.

"will this work?" lucas asks steve, holding out a worn out bandage wrap from his own backpack.

steve nods, before dustin quickly takes the paper towels, only wanting to help steve.

"this is gonna sting a little okay? and it might be tight, but it's okay, yeah?" steve's calm voice floods her ears again.

he feels her nod against him and mutter oout a 'yeah', before he carefully wraps the bandage around her leg. once he finshes, his hand hovers over the area, as he rubs his tumb back and forth.

"you're okay," steve whispers against the top of her head, and kisses her hair.

her hold on his shirt loosens and her breathing starts going back to his normal state.

"hey there champ," steve smiles as she brings her face out of his neck. steve wipes under her eyes with his thumb.

"you think you can walk?" dustin asks carefully, definitely not wanting to piss y/n or steve off at the moment.

y/n nods, "i'm definitely going to need some help."

the three kids are the first to go down the ladder, grabbing their bags, and steve's bat and bloodied jacket.

steve helps y/n down the ladder, and once she's at the bottom, lucas and dustin help her stand until steve reaches the bottom.

the same process is made until everyone is standing outside the bus. y/n is leaning practically all her body weight against steve, making sure not to lean on her injured leg.

"do you think steve scared them off?" lucas broke the silence, now noticing none of the demodogs were around them anymore.

"no, no way."

"jeez thanks," steve responds to dustin's response, after wrapping his arm tighter around y/n's waist.

"they were going somewhere," dustin continues.

"where?" max asks.

"the lab," dustin and lucas say at the same time.

just as the group begins walking towards the forest, after dustin hands out flashlights for everybody, y/n winces as she tries to take a few steps.

"you guys okay?" dustin asks.

"yeah, yeah, you guys start walking. we'll be there in a few," steve responds, helping y/n sit down on the hood of an abandoned car.

"are you okay?" steve rubs over the denim of y/n's pants, making his hands rest on her thighs.

she nods, "yeah it just feels weird."

now steve nods, before she speaks up again.

"you called me baby."

"what?"

"up on the top of the bus," she explained, "you called me baby."

steve's face instantly become pink as his cheeks felt hot.

"oh, i uh, i didn't mean to. it was kind of in the heat of the moment i guess. i swear i-"

y/n cuts him off, "i liked it."

"oh?" is all steve can get out.

y/n nods again, "i really liked it. and maybe this is just the blood loss talking, but i really like you steve."

steve is silent as she continues rambling.

"i've liked you since you took me to the eighth grade dance, in that stupid blue dress my mom made me wear. i've liked you since you invited me to that stupid pool party with nancy wheeler when you liked her. i've liked you since you helped me find my car in the school parking lot," she pauses as they both let out a laugh. "i've liked you forever steve."

steve lets y/n's words sink in. as he does his smile only grows wider.

"i've liked you forever too," he begins to lean closer to y/n.

he's now fully standing between y/n's legs, not letting his hands fall from her thighs. he captures her lips gently at first, feeling her hands move to hold onto his shoulders.

he deepens the kiss, both of them letting years of untold love fall onto the other's lips. y/n's hands move up towards his hair, holding the strands in the back between her fingers.

y/n is the first to pull back, solely to catch her breath and so she can admire a lovestruck steve. her hands move down from his hair to his biceps, as his still stay on her thighs.

"hey steve?" her voice is quiet.

he hums a response.

"do you think you could carry me to this lab we're going to?"

steve smiles and nods, "i was hoping you'd ask."

y/n giggles as he's being as gentle as possible to pick her up off the car and into his arms. he leans forward to kiss her forehead before he starts walking.

"i'm sorry i ruined your favorite jacket," she apologizes as she leans her head on steve's shoulder.

"it's okay, i needed a new one anyway."

[mediumgayitalian]

prev

———

Twenty minutes later, Solace hurries out of his cabin in cowboy boots.

And jeans.

Nico gapes at him.

“Go go go go go, questions later,” Will hisses, herding him behind the Apollo cabin. “We are on a time limit, we gotta —”

“You’re wearing close-toed shoes.”

“Yes, yes, sometimes I wear the clothes that I own. Wild. Let’s go.” Will tugs, uselessly, on his arm, but Nico’s half-certain his jaw has taken root in the ground, cementing him in place, because what the actual shit.

“Solace, you wore flip-flops to the snow-smothered bus stop in January. I thought you had, like, a condition!”

“I do have a condition. It’s called You Are Not Hurrying, Death Breath, let’s go —”

This time when he pulls, Nico stumbles after him, ducking under windowsills and inching around flower gardens. Every time someone so much as looks in their direction, Will plants both hands on his chest and shoves them into a corner somewhere, craning his neck to watch until they move on. Every time he does, another piece of Nico’s soul breaks away from his body and descends into hell. There is an actual trail of bones and tilled earth and dead grass behind him. Will doesn’t need to worry about being stealthy — the death aura of Nico’s dignity is large enough to scare off anything within a four mile radius.

“In here!”

Undeterred by the death aura, for some reason, Will seizes his bicep and shoves him in a crack between the Hypnos and Dionysus cabins. He slips in a millisecond later, crowding him against the warm bricks, forearm pressed awkwardly next to Nico’s head.

“Hnggh,” Nico gasps, mournfully wishing his last sliver of self-respect goodbye. Rest in fucking peace. “Do you have to be so — close, Will, gods —”

“Shhh!”

“If you shush me again I am going to rip your throat out —”

“Go, go, go!”

Yanked forward again, Nico doesn’t have the time to finish his threat. This time, at least, they sprint the final stretch to the shed without any more hiding and shoving.

Thank all the fucking gods. One more second of Will’s stupid torso — since fucking when does he wear polo shirts, huh, what the shit fuck is up with that — pressed against his and Nico’s bronchitis was going to come back. And this time he’s going to succumb to it.

“Okay,” Will says. He stands in front of a tarp-covered lump, gripping one side and jutting his chin out at the other. “On three, we tear this off and start pushing. We need past Thalia’s tree in under thirty seconds. Got it?”

“No,” Nico says stubbornly, “you still haven’t explained what the rush is —”

“One two three go!”

Will, unfortunately, has been tricking ADHD teenagers into doing things they don’t want to do for years, so Nico’s ripping off the tarp and shoving the chariot out of its stall faster than he can register what he’s doing. He practically sprints to keep up with Will, chariot wheels creaking happily as they rush over stones and sticks and forgotten weapons.

“We’re leaving now, Chiron! Bye!” Will hollers, moving too fast to give him a second to respond. Luckily, Chiron is similarly busy, galloping after a speeding Harley without more than a backwards wave and a sharp don’t die, please!

“That dynamite I gave Harley’ll only keep everyone distracted another thirty seconds,” Will mutters, ignoring Nico’s alarmed the fucking what you gave Harley, “so we need to move, let’s go.”

“Will — slow down a half fucking second, Christ, not everyone is seventy percent leg — we don’t even have pegasi!”

“Will you keep it down.” Will looks back and forth, eyes wide, like he’s worried someone is going to pop up with a pack of the winged animals. “Just — stop asking questions! We’re almost home free!”

“You’ve gone insane. It’s finally, actually happened, after all these years, who woulda thought, fully bonkers at age sixteen —”

“Oh, shut up.”

Muttering his complaints, Nico helps him push the infernal chariot down Half-Blood Hill. Among his grievances, he makes it abundantly clear that 1) this is stupid, 2) he did not agree to physical labour, 3) he would not have agreed to come if he had known about the physical labour, and 4) this is stupid.

“Just a few more yards, then we can —”

“Okay, no, that’s it.” Nico lets go of the chariot, letting the wheel dig into the soft ground and send the whole thing halting. He meets Will’s pout head-on; arms crossed, jaw set, foot tapping, refusing to give into those big blue eyes.

“C’mon, Neeks.” A faint explosion sounds off in the distance. Will’s eyes get more pleading, more hopeful. “We won’t have much time after the diversion wears off…”

“You have three seconds before I turn the hell around, Solace.”

“Please?”

“One.”

He pushes uselessly at the chariot. It spins a sad little circle without someone pushing the other side. “Neeks!”

“Two.”

“Alright, fine! Help me push again and I’ll explain on the way down.”

“Much easier when you just do as I say,” Nico grumbles, starting to push the stupid (horseless and therefore useless) chariot again. “Isn’t it?”

Will, predictably, rolls his eyes, although he can’t quite help the smile that pulls at his lips. Nico tells the butterflies that go buck fucking wild in his stomach to go to hell. This does nothing.

“How much do you know about the chariot?” Will asks eventually, after a couple minutes of shoving the stupid thing past a deep trench in the soil, leftover from the war. (Nico is going to set the fucking thing on fire. It’s a flying chariot — shouldn’t it be lightweight? Why is he suffering?) They’re nearly three quarters down the hill, and it takes everything Nico has not to risk it all and shadow travel the last couple dozen feet. Yeah, it might kill him, but then his problem would immediately go away. Tempting does not begin to cover it.

“Uh, big source of drama, right? Apollo and Ares worked together to seize it, argued over who got to keep it?”

He cuts a careful glance over to Will, well aware it’s a sensitive topic. He knows the question isn’t a trap — Will would never do that to him — but it’s probably best to tread lightly. As far as he’s concerned, this is a sore point that’ll take more than a couple years to heal.

Luckily, there’s no tension to Will’s face. “Mhm. I wasn’t there for much of the planning, ‘cause I was busy in the infirmary and also, like, twelve, but it took a lot of time on both sides. When Michael and everyone seized it, though, it glowed gold.”

“…Ah.”

Will snorts at his awkwardness, nudging his shoulder. “Yeah. Sure made it hard for the Ares cabin to claim, as dicey as it may be. Here, help me park it on the side of the road.”

There’s a thatch of weeds and undergrowth separating the road from the base of the hill, so dragging the chariot over is a struggle and a half. Nico can’t help but think that this task would be very easy if the chariot was harnessed to a couple pegasi and flying over the fucking thatch, as it is meant to do. When he voices this very valid thought, Will does not respond.

He does walk into a thistle, though, so Nico feels considerably better about the whole ordeal.

“The thing about the blessing —” Will grunts, yanking the chariot onto the gravel shoulder with one final tug — “is that it’s not that big of a deal. My dad blesses shit all the time. Our cabin is blessed. The infirmary is blessed. Hell, half my scalpels are blessed, and I throw those things out all the time ‘cause they’re dangerous when they get dull. Just because my dad blessed it doesn’t mean we actually have to keep it.”

“Okay…” Nico says slowly, “then why was it such a big deal?”

“The blessing on its own wasn’t.” Will’s voice gets fainter as he lowers himself onto the pavement, dragging himself under the belly of the chariot. Nico is confused for a full three seconds before a particularly rough patch of asphalt snags Will’s shirt and drags, and wow, are those jeans low rise. His throat is suddenly very dry. “Blessing a chariot on the other hand…”

Will makes a dorky little noise of success, crawling back from under the chariot. When he resurfaces, he’s grinning, carved piece of wood the same material as the chariot clenched in his hand. There’s soot smeared across his left cheek, his curls have tangled themselves into more of a mess than usual, and there are three separate scuff marks on his nice jeans.

Nico ducks his head, hiding a smile. What a dorky loser. Even dressed up as he is (boy, has Nico fallen low, if he’s calling jeans and cowboy boots dressed up), he still manages to look like…Will.

A really, really hot version of Will, but. Whatever. Details.

“The hell is that?”

“This,” Will says grandly, feeling around the wall of the chariot until he finds a specific spot, “is the reason my brother gave a fuck about a dumbass chariot.” He sticks the edge of the wooden tool in a tiny groove, wedging it open to reveal a hidden panel and a small, golden button. Nico meets Will’s grin with raised eyebrows, impressed.

“What do you know about Michael?”

“Uh, not too much.”

“You think he, in any reality, would have had that much interest in a hunk of wood?”

Nico had scarcely met him more than a couple times, but Michael Yew made an impression, that was for sure. For someone who was shorter than Nico when he was ten years old, he sure took up a lot of space. In the few times Nico remembers seeing him, he’d been concerned with his bow, his camera, or showing any given person who so much as blinked at him wrong just how quickly he could turn their ass concave. If Nico is correct, actually, the one time he and a pegasus had been in the same vicinity, they’d hissed at each other. Nico didn’t even know pegasi could hiss.

He tries to find a delicate way to say this.

“He seemed more interested in other endeavours,” he says politely.

Will laughs loudly. “He would rather shove an arrow in his eye than race a chariot!” His bright smile is impossible not to match, and Nico is relieved to find him totally comfortable, relaxed; hell, even excited. Usually, any talk of his siblings, even fond, makes him quiet. He’s glad for this change, however unusual. “Man, I loved my brother more than anything, but he was the most ornery motherfucker I’ve ever met in my life. He taught me every swear in every language by the time I was nine, just because he knew it would drive Lee batty. He didn’t care about some spoil of war.”

He smirks, wide and devilish, and Nico’s knees go weak. Dimples like that should be illegal.

“He was smart, though. And he figured, if dad’s blessing made this chariot anything like his own…”

He reaches out and presses the golden button with his thumb, letting go and standing back once he registers a faint click. After a couple seconds, the chariot begins to glow, soft at first, then brighter, then Nico has to squeeze his eyes shut to avoid the stinging burn, and then when he opens them, it —

He gapes. Will grins.

Where the chariot used to be, is now a shiny, brand-new, black and yellow motorbike, two helmets gleaming on the sparkling leather seat.

“…Then it might be a little more than some lousy chariot.”

Without waiting for Nico to pick his jaw off the floor, Will rushes forward. He tosses one of the helmets to Nico — which he barely manages to catch, still working on processing what the fuck just happened — and tucks the other under his arm. Nico happens to notice how his biceps flex with the action, and then vows to have his father bankrupt the entire polo shirt industry, because he can never be caught lacking like this by any mortal soul. It’s humiliating.

There’s a click as Will unlatches the seat, lifting it up to access the compartment under it. He pulls out a bundle mass of black fabric, and with a flick of his shoulders reveals it to be a fucking leather jacket and oh, gods, Nico takes back the polo shirt complaints, he can live with the polo shirt. This is too much. This is —

“Any time you’re done ogling at me, you can climb on,” Will calls out. He doesn’t even have the good grace to look in Nico’s direction, instead sliding on the seat facing resolutely forward, amused smirk on his face. And because he wants Nico to die, actually, he straightens his jacket, making sure it fits his shoulders right (by the gods does it ever) brushes his hair backwards (there is no genuine reason for someone’s hair to actually shine in the sunlight) and slides his helmet on. When he finally does look back in Nico’s direction, through his raised visor, the combined sight of his sparkling blue eyes and the cut of his face under the angular helmet actually gives him tachycardia.

“I hate you,” Nico croaks. “Not joking.”

Will throws his head back and laughs, baring his long, tanned throat. Nico follows the bob of his adam’s apple like Tantalus does the forbidden fruit. It’s horrible, and what’s worse is that Will is visibly preening like the fuckin’ peacock he is. Someone should remind him he’s basically a dressed up turkey. Or something. Nico’s brain is operating at twenty percent capacity, his ability to metaphor properly is a secondary concern.

“Just get over here, you goober. We’re on a time limit, remember?”

Shoving his helmet on to hide his flaming face, Nico does, sliding on with a healthy four inches of space between them.

“Mm, not gonna work, ParaNorman. This thing’s enchanted, we’ll be going well over a hundred. Hold on properly.”

Praying to seven different gods for strength, at once, Nico scooches the agonizing few inches closer.

“Hands around waist, Death Boy.”

“I’m fucking — I’m getting there, you asshole, gimme a goddamn second.”

“Do you need help?”

“I need you to shut the fuck up so I can focus.”

Maybe it’s the healer in him, or maybe there actually is a god looking out for Nico and they decide to have mercy. Maybe it’s a third option. Either way, Will reaches back and wraps his callused hands around Nico’s wrist, tugging them gently forward and resting them on the narrow curve of his hips. Nico holds them there, along with his breath, until some of the panicky tension starts to loosen in his chest, and he relaxes forward, resting his chest against Will’s back.

“There,” he says quietly, humming with approval when Nico’s arms link properly around his waist. He squeezes his clasped wrists once — a silent you good? — and waits for Nico’s minute nod, face buried in the back of Will’s neck, before starting up the engine, revving it twice before leaning forward, body flush to the bike. Nico can practically feel his grin, it’s so clear in his mind’s eye, in the delight thrumming through Will’s entire body, that he can’t help his own smile, too, can’t help but feel the thrum of the machine, the sharp smell in the air. He tightens his hold and Will lets out a loud, whooping laugh.

“Let’s ride, baby!”

With a push off the ground and a twist of a thrusters, they’re off, leaving behind only the echo of the roaring engine and the joyful, startled sound of Nico’s shriek.

———

next

[lavendermin]

Please don't leave us hanging from the Jing yuan drabble I'm afraid you awoken something in me (take your time also take good care of yourself 💖💯💯)

If you mean the little drabble of jing yuan being told he’s going to have 8 kids in the future, I have soooo many thoughts I’m trying to put together. He makes me insane, anon 🫠💗💗💗

a continuation based off this post below

cw | pregnancy, breeding kink, fem reader

Needless to say the words linger in his mind for the rest of the day. They play over and over in Jing Yuan’s head. He needs to process them, but what’s there to process?

Coming from the Master Diviner of all people, it was a prominent future she saw. It tells him two things: one, Fu Xuan has been checking up on him (this one is her job actually) and two, he’ll be quite busy with his spouse soon.

How soon? Jing yuan can’t help but wonder. And he didn’t want to pry with Fu Xuan. Best not to give her the upper hand with something to tease him with.

“Something on your mind, love?” Your question brings him out of his pondering. He takes a seat on the couch next to you, a quiet sigh leaving his lips as he sinks into the plush comfort.

“Just a few things I have to do.” His reply is vague and the smug smile he wears makes you raise a brow.

You shuffle over to straddle his thighs, nimble hands working into his tense shoulders.

“A lot of work recently? Will you be busier?”

He chuckles, closing his eyes to relish the attention you give him.

“Mm. Something along those lines.”

“Want me to run a bath for us?”

His hands absentmindedly settle on your hips. “A little later. Haven’t even kissed my wife yet.”

You can’t help but smile with a little roll of your eyes, easily giving in and placing a peck to his lips. It’s chaste and loving—a sincere ‘welcome home’. But as Jing Yuan chases your lips, it’s clear there’s something more he’s after.

You pull away breathless, a string of saliva connecting you both. It’s a little obscene, even for him. “J-Jing–”

He cuts you off as his lips slot over yours again, his tongue pushing into your mouth greedily. This kind of possessiveness was rare with him. It lit a fire in your belly when he got like this. But…

“Jing Yuan– Wait,” you lightly push him off you. His lips continue to feverishly press kisses to your jaw and neck. A sharp gasp leaves you as his hands start to slowly grind you back and forth on his thigh. “L-Love, I’m ovulating. We can’t– It’s too risky.”

It wasn’t like him to be this lost to reason. A rumble akin to a growl leaves him as soon as you mention it. By now your neck is littered in marks he’s sucked to the delicate skin there. Jing Yuan is breathless as he uses all the resolve he has left to stop, his breath hot against your bare chest where he was already pulling down your top.

You can’t help looking at him with concern. In an instant, he looks up at you with composure back under rein. His smile is sweet, devilish as it hides the insatiable hunger that’s growing at an alarming rate.

“All the more reason to make love to my precious wife, wouldn’t you say?”

With the opportunity presented to himself and the tangible future of his wife, lovely and pregnant, he thinks himself a fool not to start now.

You chuckle at first, assuming it’s some of Jing Yuan’s usual teasing. But as his eyes lock with yours, unwavering and pupils blown wide with lust as his arms press you further against his broad body, it dawns on you that he’s completely serious.

“You– We,” you stutter as you feel your core throb with a surge of need. Damn those hormones during your ovulation. In a small, shaky voice you ask, “I thought you said you wanted to wait until you retired… Do you really want to try for a baby?”

There’s a glimmer in your eyes, chest tight with a flood of different emotions. Anticipation, unabashed lust, adoration.

Jing Yuan responds with a chuckle, opting to gently pull your face for a kiss. This one is only a light simmer of the ardent need he has to breed you until dawn.

“If you’re agreeable, of course. There’s a saying from a few star systems down that says life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. I’ve already made you my wife, I’d love to also make you a mother.”

The bright smile that breaks on your face is all the answer he needs as you pull his face in to litter kisses all over his face, ending by going in for a kiss that leaves him smiling like an idiot. Your idiot.

Jing Yuan has no plans to retire soon, but officially starting his family rejuvenated his resolve to continue as general for a while longer. There was still work to be done to keep the Xianzhou safe and ensure the era of peace continues for his children. He’ll have to thank Fu Xuan later for the slip of her tongue.

And it’s no surprise that making love to you for the next few consecutive days proves fruitful a couple weeks later.

Gossip and rumor spreads fast, especially with Jing Yuan being general of the Luofu. He’s constantly in the eye of the public. Once your tummy starts showing a bit more, he can’t help but stroll around proudly with you by his side—his hand protectively on your belly whenever he can. The people call your pregnancy a sign of abundant good luck, an omen for exceptional good to come in the future. Likewise, Jing Yuan is positively over the moon as a soon-to-be-father.

He can’t wait to hold his twin girls in a few months.

And after that, he can breed you again. And again. And again. It’s in his future, after all.

[mins-fins]

[20:20 pm.]

"hey, focus".

he snaps his fingers in front of your face, finally snapping you out of that unexpected daze you were having. you blink up at your groupmate, who stares at you with that pointed glare of his, the kind of stare he looks at you with when he's mad at you for something, whether it be for cheating in uno, stealing a fry from him, or playfully insulting him.

"what? huh?" you respond, only earning a small scoff from him. you were not focusing, stuck in some sort of daydream that you can't recollect the contents of for some reason. you listen to him tap his pen against the paper in front of him, a light snicker added to his scoff as he looks at the expression on your face.

"i was asking about lyrics" he states, clicking his pen as he notes down your facial expressions in his mind. "the lyrics you came to help me write?"

you let your jaw fall in just the slightest. "oh.. that, right!"

he narrows his eyes, a frown coming to his face. "y/n!" that tone is familiar, it's the tone he uses when he wants to nag you, when he wants to annoy you and whine about something. "you weren't even listening to me! what were you even thinking about?"

at the question, you pause, trying your best to remember what you could've been thinking about, it had to be something truly distracting, something distracting enough that you couldn't even focus on what the male in front of you was saying.

you blink as you stare at the male in front of you, taking in his pretty features, his moles, his eyes, his flushed cheeks, his lips. his lips. you should not be staring at those, but you are, you allow for yourself to get distracted by them, so much for giving him an answer.

"you" is the answer you give. it's not entirely wrong, you were zoning out on his face, you were trying so hard not to get lost in his eyes.

your answer seems to stun him, as his cheeks go even redder and he opens his mouth in shock, beginning to stammer out a response. "i— stop lying, you're such an idiot".

"i'm not lying, though" you quickly reply, now very focused. "i was thinking about you, why don't you believe me?"

he lets himself be speechless for a moment, a snicker escaping his lips as he feigns annoyance. "no actually, i don't, cause you're a filthy liar".

you hum, knowing you won this little argument because of the way his ears redden and how he avoids eye contact. you just lean closer, giving one last glance at his lips before sliding the paper of written song lyrics closer to you, a small smile on your face as you do so. "alright then.. tell me about the lyrics".

he feels his face burn again. "oh uh— um, right, that".

well now he can't focus. oh how the tables have turned.