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alicemitch09writes · 4 years ago

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(un)loving miya atsumu

fourteen.

loving miya atsumu

Dear Atsumu,

I hate how much your face is the first thing that comes to mind when I think about the word - ‘happiness’ and ‘love’. Happiness, because it radiates off your bones, no matter the situation, in court when up against strong opponents, thwarting plays with a setter dump or when you’re up serving, or when pulling off nasty quicks with your brother or any other player, off court when you fight with Osamu over the last ice cream at the convenience store, when you share a stupid joke with your dad, or even when you’re with the people you care about. Love, because you do everything with just the right to too much amount of love, pouring your everything in it, pouring your heart in the things that make you happy may it be volleyball, Osamu, your family, Mika- not a single wasted opportunity to convey your love and happiness. Nobody compares the way you do.

You’ve set a standard for almost everything, which is why you expect nothing for the best to be at the receiving end of both happiness and love.

I hope you know that to me; you are the embodiment of both happiness and love. Because I really hate how you remain the embodiment of these two words I have difficulty expressing.

Your name literally translates to 'to devour' and in a sense, you are someone who happily, readily accepts love and happiness on a daily basis, allowing it to fill you up to the core and share it with everyone.

You are everything that is everything – the sun after a stormy day, the sunshine in my veins, the kiss of the wind against my skin, the light to my darkness, my sunflower. You are everything to me, and to you, I offer, my whole heart, which you don’t have to worry returning, because it’s yours. Always has been.

- (Y/N)’s letter, 1 out of 13

"MIKA!" launching yourself at your big sister, engulfing in a hug, the two of you laughed. Breaking away, you held your older sister an arm's length, taking her in. "You're home! You're here!" The excitement was evident in your tone, a bit of confusion as well, at the joyful arrival of your big sister.

"Just thought I'd surprise you!"

Frowning slightly, you ask again. "But how about school?"

"I'm on break!"

"Alexander and Pien?"

"The family's currently on vacation in Spain," sensing another question coming, she furthers. "the parents were the ones who arranged this trip, because they know it would mean the world to me and I would never want to miss my little sister's big day."

The grin on your face softened, engulfing your sister into a hug again. "I'm just so happy you're here,"

"Me, too."

Despite everything that went down, before anything else in the world, this was your sister – your best friend by design. After months apart, talking to her virtually for a year, having her in person was such a delight. Seeing her home was probably the best graduation gift you could ask more.

Swaying into your hug, relishing in the feeling of her touch, Mika slowly opens her eyes, seeing the twins, finally remembering that they weren't alone.

"Oh, no! I'm so sorry!" dropping the hug, she turns to the twins. "Atsumu, Osamu, hello!"

"Welcome back, Mika-nee," says Osamu.

"H-Hey Mika-nee," Atsumu stutters.

Something unsettled in your belly, coming at a screeching halt at the reunion. You could feel Osamu's eyes on you. Balling your hands into fists, you swallowed that ugly feeling, wearing a smile on.

"Shall we head inside?" Nobody seemed to notice the slight crack in your voice, which you were thankful for. Lowering your head, your eyes easily found your graduation pin, a reminder.

Atsumu, however, seemed out of it. Even in the presence of his first love, he didn't seem the least happy to see her. In fact, he almost looked, dare you say, troubled.

While the three of you were taking off your shoes, the house filled with joyous noises from both families, you turned to the blond-dyed teen worriedly.

"Atsumu, are you alright?"

Is he alright? How was he supposed to feel? Mika was right there! Mika, the person he's been in love with since he was 9. Love, right? She's always been his standard, the perfect girl for some just as perfect as him. Boyfriend be damned. Mika was there. Mika was here. Shouldn't he be happy?

"Atsumu?" At the sound of your voice, he worked on a feeble smile, worrying you even more.

Snapping out of it, he quirks his lips up. Before you can say another word, his grandparents come barrelling down the hall to greet you three.

Atsumu's smile was worrying.

"How I've missed Japanese food!" Mika gushes at the table, eyes bright at the food on display – especially at the seafood, care of your uncle (of course).

Laughing, the twins' father turns to her. "What's wrong with Dutch food, Mika-chan?"

Aside from sushi, there was an assortment of dishes like tempura, sauteed vegetables, salad, grilled meat, roast beef and chicken, and two cakes. With a feast like this, calling for the occasion, it was enough to water anyone’s mouth.

"It's alright, but kinda bland." they laugh at that.

You sat next to your sister, Kaoru on your other side. Across you sat the twins, Atsumu directly in front of you. Catching his eye, he quirked his lips up – smile seeming forced.

Your mom was all smiles, lifting her glass up. “Well now, let’s make a toast to our graduates!”

"To our bright and wonderful children!” your uncle seconds, joyfully, loudly. “To Atsumu, Osamu, and (Y/N)! Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Everyone was clinking their glasses against each other before digging in.

The adults were usually doing the talking, exchanging pleasantries about this and that, while the youngins were on a world of their own. It only made sense why the (extended) table was divided into two – young and old.

Lifting his gaze, Atsumu could see you chatting up with his grandparents, a pleasing and polite smile on your face. As his grandma was sharing about her newest hobby, you were wiping Kaoru’s face clean, much to the younger boy’s displeasure.

“Atsumu, I hear you’ve been scouted by a pro-league?”

Suddenly called by Mika, he was suddenly on the spot. Normally, he would preen, just to keep those bright (e/c) eyes on him. When in truth, he wants another pair of eyes on him.

“Oh, uh…yeah, that’s right.”

“Pfft, what kinda energy is that?” booms his dad’s voice, ringing throughout the room. “Give it more life, Atsumu!” Beside him, his mom pats her husband’s arm, smiling per usual, but had a loving look in her eyes.

“What team are you joining?”

“MSBY Black Jackals,” he replies, staring at his plate. “they’re based in Osaka.”

Atsumu still remembers the day you approached him, shared with him how a scout agent had approached you first, then asked for Atsumu’s contact information. He was so over the moon after you told him that.

“Oh! So it’s close by!”

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice, you don’t have to worry about university and just continue doing what you do best. I’m jealous.”

Atsumu works on a faint smile, happy to hear it.

You watched the whole exchange from the corner of your eye, taking a bite of sushi before washing it down with soda, swallowing down the lump in your throat as well.

“Nee-san,” something pat at the corners of your mouth, Kaoru grinning. “your mouth was messy!”

Smiling, you could only pat his head in gratitude. “Thank you, Kaoru.”

“And how about (Y/N)-chan?” the Miya’s grandmother asked you suddenly, bringing the attention to you.

Now at the center of attention, you set down your plate. “Um…I’ll be studying at Hiroshima University.”

“Hiroshima! That’s four hours away from here?” whines the twins’ mom, to which your uncle and mom shrugs easily.

“Well, it was her decision.”

“Waseda was also in her list, but she opted for Hiroshima University.”

Nearly choking on his drink, the twins’ father turns to you. “Wa-Waseda!?”

“Dad, calm down!” Atsumu berates, embarrassed. Beside him, Osamu just helps himself to another serving, handing his grandfather another, too.

“Don’t underestimate Waseda, Atsumu! That’s one of the most prestigious schools in Japan!”

Atsumu knows that very well, because you told them about it. Just that…

“Well, she didn’t pass.” Huffs your uncle, but goes on to explain rather excitedly. “So she went for the next big thing – Hiroshima University!”

“Dad, didn’t we already tell you this?” Osamu frowns, rice sticking to his cheek. “We also told you she passed the exams.”

Their dad deflated at that, scratching at his cheek. “A-Ah, eh…you know your old man, he’s getting old and his memory’s failing him.” Everyone in the table laughs, even young Kaoru!

“Still, Hiroshima’s a long way from here, (Y/N)-chan,” their grandfather turns to you. “Why not join Osamu at Kobe University? Or Atsumu in Osaka at Kansai University?”

Shrugging, you reached over to refill his glass. “I wanted a change of pace, I guess. Also,” sitting back, you brushed strands of hair behind your ear, exposing your conch piercing. “I had a bit of epiphany when we had our class excursion there.”

The adults smile at your words, Mika, most especially.

“Well, I know you’ll do well there which is why we want you to have this,” from his pocket, the twins’ grandfather produced three envelopes – for you, Osamu, and Atsumu. To say that the three of you were shocked would be an understatement. “Here,”

Ever so carefully, the three of you took the envelope with both hands.

“Go on, open it!” says their mom excitedly, recording with their phone.

“OH MY GOD MOM, YOU’RE EMBARRASSING US!”

“Open, open!” their grandmother clapped her hands excitedly, sharing the same sweet smile as her husband.

Glancing at each other, the three of you seemed to share the same idea.

“On three?”

Nod.

“One,”

“Two,”

“Three!”

Outside the window, the wind blew, sending a draft it in (L/N) household. One glance and you were greeted by a world painted in pink hues, blushes of nature come in falling petals – spring has come alright.

In your subdivision, there was only one cherry blossom tree that was planted in the playground just behind your house. At the epicentre of your neighbourhood, like a heartbeat that connected each household to its beating. When spring comes, it blooms, shedding off its petals, scattering against the wind everywhere – for everyone to see.

A chance to bring spring into their homes, to enjoy moments like these without having to worry about leaving. Like a hanami at home.

“Ohhh.”

“…we got money.”

“Granny, Gramps, thank you so much!”

“Use the money wisely now!”

“I’m jealous,” Mika tells you, watching the twins. “you three got to share moments like these, have been for years. But now,” her smile falters a bit. “you’re off on your separate ways. Will you be okay?”

Your big sister will always be your best friend, one deigned to you since you were born and because of blood. But having friends of your own was another story, especially worth noting just how quiet you can be, which is why when they moved to Hyogo and were introduced to the twins, it made her feel settled. The three of you were inseparable, always together, a bond she envied.

At this point in your life, there was no denying the consequences of growing up.

“We all have our own different dreams and ambitions, so it’s only normal that we chase after it.” Taking a sip of your drink, your eyes catch on Osamu. “Osamu’s not as ambitious as his brother, but he’s just as competitive – especially when it comes to his future and happiness.”

“True, but a shame that he’s not going pro like his brother, they would be such a team!”

It would, years of watching them grow together was enough of a testament. The most powerful twins in volleyball.

“They’ll always have volleyball and each other. But when it comes to happiness, that’s another story.” Recalling Osamu’s soft gaze on the finished onigiri he made, the tale he shared afterwards. “Osamu’s happiness in with cooking and food.”

Humming, Mika takes her own drink, sipping in.

“And the thing with Atsumu is that’s he’s always looking forward, never once settling on the past knowing that it will hold him back. In fact, he’s always looking ahead that he tends to forget what he’s doing in present time.”

“It sounds like he’s taken to heart your club motto, huh? ‘We don’t need memories’.”

It was such a powerful motto – moving and inspiring all at once. From the moment your eyes saw Inarizaki’s banner when you were young to the moment you became manager, that motto has stuck with you the most. You love that motto, love its implication and even took it by heart.

“We can’t always be ruled by our past after all.” You set your drink down. “How else are we going to move forward?”

Atsumu stared at the ceiling before him, having given up tossing and turning for the past few hours. After the third hour, he threw in the towel – he was restless, unable to fall asleep from everything that’s happened today. It’s as though he found himself at an impasse – unsure of what he’s been holding on to, unable to comprehend how he should feel with everything going on.

Mika was home. Feelings he’s had for her…surfaced. He thinks. Atsumu broke into a sigh, sitting up, he was a mess.

Suddenly, he heard rummaging from below him, muted light glowing from below.

“’Samu?” he called out.

“Ah, shit.” Osamu craned his head, meeting his eyes. “Sorry, ‘Tsumu. Did I wake you?”

Shaking his head, Atsumu noted that Osamu was dressed up. “Where’re you headed?”

“Out.” He pockets his phone and wallet away.

“By yourself?” When his brother shakes his head, Atsumu shifts from his spot, asking again. “With whom?”

“…with (Y/N).”

Atsumu was silent for a while, coming to realization how Osamu sneaks out a lot in the past. It shouldn’t be a question and should be easy to tell who he usually hung out with late at night.

“Can I come?”

Osamu’s blinked at that. Atsumu waits, hopes. He watches as his brother looks at his phone, then back to his brother. Eventually, he exhales through his nose, wearing a half-smile as he nods slowly.

“Yeah, come on.”

Smiling, Atsumu feels excited as he gets down from his bunk and quickly changes. Following his brother's lead, ever so quietly the twins trudge out of the house, careful not to make any loud noises (which honestly, they shouldn't even bother for everyone in their family were heavy sleepers), door closing shut behind him. It amazed Atsumu how his brother does it all with practiced eased.

Spring evening was chilly, biting at his skin, nipping his nose. Good thing he thought of putting on his hoodie.

Together, the twins head out their house, bypassing their gate and turn, towards the (L/N) house next door where a figure waited.

Dressed in an oversized hoodie that stopped by your mid thighs, gazing up at the night sky in thought, in waiting.

"Yo, (Y/N)."

Lowering your head, (e/c) eyes widened slightly once realizing your best friend didn't come alone. At this, Atsumu raised a hand in greeting.

"Hey, (Y/N). Mind if I tag along?"

You shrug easily, standing to your full height. "Sure, why not."

Spring night was cool and crisp, biting almost – remnants from winter’s past.

Three teens walk along their quiet neighbourhood, cruising along houses for some few blocks until reaching a brightly lit establishment just next to the main road.

Upon entering the store, the cashier – a smiling, tired-looking woman, nods at Osamu and you, eyes shining in familiarity. A recurrence, it seems. Despite the wee hours of the night, the stillness of the silence, bright lights flooded the establishment with a multitude of goods lined up, budget meals prepped and ready, everything seemed liked a sight for any customer.

Following after Osamu, the two cruised through the aisles, his brother grabbing some chips and a seasonal onigiri, the twins nearly towering over. Reaching the end, he felt a chill, realizing he was by the frozen section, with you eyeing the selection with pursed lips.

"Aren't you full from all the food we ate earlier?" Atsumu laughs, standing next to you.

"Lest you forget, Osamu has a black hole for a stomach. I'm on my period, so I have cravings." Saying this, you stare at the selection of ice cream.

"How about curfew?" You were such a stickler for rules, this was so new to him.

Shrugging, you picked up strawberry and chocolate brownie. "Osamu and I sometimes pass off as adults. Plus, this neighborhood tends to be complacent when it comes to curfew."

He smirks. "So you're using that to your advantage, huh? Smart girl."

Your only reply was bumping your shoulder against his, putting the strawberry ice cream in his hands. Which he decidedly takes.

Over your meals, the three of you share laugh, meals, and talks. Unable to help himself, and taking a page from his mother, Atsumu takes a selfie to commemorate the moment, uploading instantly to his social media.

To any other bystander – or whoever sees Atsumu’s selfie, it was nothing more than a teenage hang out with your childhood friend and brother. Rather picturesque of perfect innocence, measured smiles, occasional banter highlighted only by the lights of the sleepy convenience store, saturated by the spring evening.

A moment that sent a lurch down each of your hearts at the knowledge that moments like these were numbered. Caught up in the moment, Atsumu desperately wished for time to freeze, wishing his life was always like this.

Nostalgia filled the night, between childhood friends – like that year of silence meant nothing. It was enough to choke Atsumu, bring him to tears with how much he's missed this. Memories from his past painted into his present with bright hues and ink, he wanted them to stay, etched on his skin - unready to have them washed away when the morning comings.

Late-night snacks ended up with the twins sneaking their game console to the (L/N)'s household, talks continue even as you three were playing video games until the wee hours of the morrow, filled with more talks that piled conversation over conversation, talking as though they had a clue – leaving you all breaking into fits of silly laughter.

Just as you landed second in Mario Kart, Osamu conked out first.

"I swear, he sleeps like a fucking log," Atsumu says, watching you carefully set Osamu's head on your lap, patting his head gently.

Smiling softly, you carefully take the blanket you snuck and tucked him in, and yourself, too. Atsumu stood to turn off the console and the TV, filling the room in darkness. However, the glow from the moon outside was enough to illuminate the living room.

"You'll be heading off to Hiroshima, right?" he whispers, reaffirming the question thrown to you earlier that day, you nod. "Wow,” sitting next to you, on the edge of the sofa, he settles in. “big step."

"I figured that I'd like to open my horizon, have a new pace."

Atsumu remembered the peaceful look on your face when they had their class excursion there, smiling at the memory and a bit on the history of the city.

"Like a fresh new beginning, huh?"

Nodding, eyes beginning to droop, Atsumu carefully brings your head to his chest, falling back. "Like you...you'll be off to Osaka...for MSBY Black Jack'ls" you slur. "Osamu's staying here..."

Humming, he brushes away hair from your face, listening to your voice against Osamu's snores.

"You seem t'be doin' fine," he almost laughs at how thick your Kansai was when you were on the brink of sleep. "'ve always been." Taking an inhale, through your exhale you say, "you don't need me, Atsumu, you never have." and then you slipped off to sleep.

How he envied the friendship you had with Osamu, the one thing that connected you both in the first place. Taking your left hand in his, fingers slotting together, scarred fingers touching against each other, he noses at your forehead, lips a hairsbreadth away from your skin.

“Oh, you have no idea just how wrong you are, (Y/N).” lips pressed the lightest kiss, the moon and the stars as his witness. “I’ll always need you.”

You must've heard him in your sleep, because you were smiling, adorably. It was the last sight he saw before Atsumu slipped off, as well.

Dawn broke out slowly, as it always did in Hyogo, light streaming, searching almost for signs of life in the living room. With the sun slowly making its way up, light follows upwards, eventually finding three bodies knocked out in the living room - sleeping rather awkwardly with two boys sandwiching a girl, peaceful, lost in silence. Somewhat, it was a familiar sight.

Waking up to the smell of breakfast, Atsumu woke with a start, blinking wearily as he took in his surroundings. Right, he snuck out with Osamu and stayed over at the (L/N)’s.

Lifting his head, a ghost of a smile found its way on his face when a mop of (h/c) came to view, your hand still in his. Strands of hair littered your face, which he quickly swept away, causing you to stir.

"Good morning, sleepyheads!" a cheery voice greeted from the kitchen. "Hope you like pancakes!"

Fresh out of bed, with her hair in a messy bun with an apron on was Mika, she looked pretty, adorable even. Atsumu should've been happy by the sight of this, captivated even. But he felt nothing.

At the mention of pancakes, Osamu sleepily lifts his head, in alert, eyes still pinched close. Slowly, you rose from Atsumu’s chest, having used it as a pillow last night, rubbing at your eyes.

“Mornin’ (Y/N),” he laughs.

Blinking your eyes open, with the sight of Atsumu in front of you, between his legs, realizing your sleeping position from last night, instantly your face heated, darkened. “A-Atsumu! A-Ah…Um…G-Good morning…” folding his legs back, he did a stretch, Osamu slowly coming to beside you. “Did you sleep well? Does your neck hurt? Your back?”

Your concern was honestly adorable – like your morning self, it made his heart warm.

“No worries, I slept great!”

True to his word, the rest of the morning went swimmingly over heaps of pancake and another selfie.

“I fear you’ll be taking after your mother in that aspect.”

“Wow, selfie whore.”

“SHUT IT, ‘SAMU!”

After breakfast, the twins had to head back home, to greet their grandparents while you started packing. When lunch came, the twins were back – freshly changed and all. At the sight of them, your mom couldn’t help gushing that ‘it takes me back!’ to which your uncle laughed at heartily, welcoming the boys in before they both left for work.

“Oi, Kaoru what’re you doing?” Osamu asked, watching how as your brother stood on a dining chair he grabbed, pushed it against the wall as he reached up, tying something by the window.

Squinting, you asked. “Is…that a teru teru bozu?”

“Yep!” he smiled, letting the doll face outside, getting another balled-up doll from his pocket. “Nee-san’s birthday’s in a few days, don’t want it to rain then!”

“Kaoru, aren’t you a little too old for superstitions?”

“I’m only 13!”

“Yes, but there’s no scientific proof that they prevent rain from coming. Plus, it’s spring, it’s not so hot of a season for rain to fall.”

Miffed by your explanation, he turned, nearly toppling over had he not righted himself quickly. “You don’t know that, nee-san!” Kaoru hopped off the chair, pouting at you.

“Yeah, what the brother boy said!” Atsumu seconded.

“Better safe than sorry!”

You could only sip on your drink in reply, hiding the smile. Osamu gave you a funny look, amused.

“Plus, it has to be sunny on nee-san’s birthday! We’re going to-“ before Kaoru could finish, Mika appeared, slapping a hand on his mouth.

“Hey, how about I make us pasta for lunch?”

Instantly, Kaoru’s face brightened. “Yay, pasta!”

“By the way, (Y/N),” she calls to you. “Reiki’s coming over with the pizza you like that his friend makes, the spinach one and garlic shrimp?”

At the mention of the aforementioned pizzas, your lips quickly quirk up. It was so hard to find those specific flavors around Kobe, the last time you had them was probably before Mika left. Thankfully, Reiki, being the social butterfly that he was, knew a lot of people.

“Your boyfriend has my many thanks,”

Mika laughs, making you realize a little too late on the words that left your mouth. Sliding your eyes to Atsumu, you were surprised to find that he seemed relatively fine, cordial even.

When Reiki came with the pizzas later, pasta ready and waiting, you all feasted, but not before Atsumu insisted on a selfie with everyone.

“I swear, you’re turning to Ma and it’s scaring me,” Osamu tells his brother with a disgusted frown.

“Watch your mouth, ‘Samu that’s still our Ma!” Atsumu angrily bites off his pizza. “Is it so wrong to capture moments frozen in time!?”

“Wow, that was a rather poetic way of saying it,” you noted, nodding your thanks at Reiki would gave you two slices each of the pizzas.

“Come on now, let’s not fight!” Reiki says calmly, undeterred by the twins. “Let’s just eat, yeah?”

A long-distance relationship seemed to work fine for your sister and Reiki. Clearly, distance makes the heart fonder with how lovey-dovey they seemed. A peek over at Atsumu, and you’d half-expect him to go batshit crazy. But no. If anything, he seemed perfectly fine.

“Atsumu, do you have a minute?”

As Atsumu walked off with your sister, you could only watch, lips quirking into a smile. For some reason, you felt fine with that, too.

It was probably when they first moved to Hyogo that Atsumu’s eyes fell to Mika, the ever-smiling, ever-kind oldest daughter. There were plenty of reasons to like her: she was pleasant, polite, pretty, smart, athletic, and kind. For years, Atsumu has always set her as his standard for his ideal woman, even assured himself that he was at her level (which shouldn’t be so hard, thanks to his genetics).

For the first time in the forever, he thought of finally confessing to her his feelings, that chance that he’s waiting for so long.

And yet, as the two enter the backyard, the door sliding shut behind him, Atsumu turns to Mika, with a question that’s been burning on to the back of his head for a while now.

"Why did you do it?"

"Huh?" Mika looks up in surprise, letting go of the door handle.

"Why'd you to talk to him?" Atsumu felt his patience running thin, anger building.

Mika's perfect face falls into confusion, exposing the cracks underneath. This was clearly not what she intended to talk about, but Atsumu didn’t care, he was leading this conversation now. Honestly, it feels like he’s finally seeing her for who she really is – for the first time, the rosy lenses he had of her were torn away.

Him, being their dad.

Pressing her lips together, a fist to her mouth, contemplating on her response. "...I just...I wanted..."

"A connection?" he finishes for her, an educated guess.

Mika nodded. "He's still my dad, you know? I just thought...I could get to know him..."

"And that hurt (Y/N) in the process," Atsumu threw out, rather impatiently, almost accusingly. "did you know that?"

Pain crosses over her face, bleeding through from her eyes down to the upturn of her lips, hands fisting on her chest.

"Maybe you wanted a relationship with him,” shaking his head, he thinks of you “but not (Y/N)." Of all his memories with you, one where he's caught your eyes on their dad, feeling his stomach twist at the longing in your eyes, hurt him the most. You may have had your uncle, but having your own father was a different thing. You told him that Mika was studying psychology, he couldn’t help but think how ironic that was.

"I'm not perfect, Atsumu."

Atsumu scoffed. "Don't I know that?"

He was an older sibling himself. Older by five minutes, he was still regarded as the oldest, has as much responsibility despite that minute difference.

"Older siblings aren't perfect," Mika says. "We make mistakes, we hurt people, even our siblings." She very clearly wanted to discuss something else, something that clearly wasn’t this. But now that Atsumu’s taken control, she felt herself lose rights.

"Did you tell him about our graduation?"

Mika fell silent, mouth pulled into a line.

That was enough of an answer.

Atsumu tried to imagine how the young you must have felt, the horrors you had to face, to witness, how your young, impressionable mind just paused and came to a screeching halt, to a horrible realization of how fucked up everything was now - he could only feel immeasurable pain, choking him. When that happened, did it also take away the life and spark in your eyes? The joy of life?

He loved his dad very much, his dad was one of the best men in his life who always encouraged him and Osamu to pursue their dreams, always at the frontline for them, and loved his whole family. Had he done what your dad did, he would also feel just as crushed. What he did was inexcusable – to you, to Mika, to your brother, to your mom. Scums like him didn't deserve a second chance.

"I can't believe you did that."

Without waiting for her to reply, Atsumu walked back inside the house, back to where his brother and you were.

Late at night, you stare up at the ceiling, hugging ‘Inari’ – the fox plushie given to you by the trouble children – close to your chest. Mind filled with thoughts, just swimming over you.

Earlier, Atsumu had walked back in the house, the same worrying smile from a few days ago, eyes losing its usual luster. Yet, he assured you that it was nothing, ruffling your hair affectionately.

Mika then walked back in the house, all smiles – but even she had a weary looking smile. Before you could approach her, Reiki rushed to her side and the two scurried to the kitchen. Thankfully, Kaoru, hadn’t picked up on this, busy trying to beat his two nii-sans in Smash.

Shifting your head to the side, to where Mika’s bed was, your sister was dead to the world, deep in her slumber – peaceful and calm. Lifting yourself from your bed, covers dropping, ever so carefully you dropped your feet to the cold floor. Still hugging Inari, you walked away from your bed and to one of the boxes, staring at the contents – some books, stationary.

Bending down, you dig through, careful not to make a sound. From the box, you pulled out a wooden picture frame, hand painted blue, with sunflowers sticking on the top left, a few petals on the upper and lower. And in frame was the photo of the Inarizaki Volleyball Club. It was taken the moment everyone returned from Tokyo. Smiling fondly, fingers smoothed over the sunflowers, taking in everyone’s smiles.

At the center of the photo was you, sandwiched between Atsumu and Osamu, wearing wide grins. When your juniors handed you the frame, you were so sure you’d break out then and there. But it didn’t end there, because Coach Kurosu – tears spilling down his face, gave you his gift, too. Gently setting Inari down, frame sitting next to him, you plucked a small, thick, black cloth.

Sitting crossed legged, you opened it up, smiling at the familiar kanji of the club’s motto.

‘We Don’t Need Memories’

“Such a powerful statement,” you whisper into the silence.

Kita once shared that he wasn’t a fan of the motto – being a man brought by the small things, on how doing the minimum on a daily basis is already enough of an assurance for any needless worries. Yet, it fires him up when he’s up with his team mates.

Coach Kurosu also mentioned, overly fond of the motto, that nothing should ever hold you back from the challenges that life will hurl at you.

Smoothing over the smooth kanji characters, a wave of memories rushed over you – first stepping into the gym, applying as manager the same time the twins had their try-outs, introducing yourself as manager before the twins engulfed you into a hug, seeing Aran again, meeting Kita and the rest of your seniors, meeting Suna, Ginjima, and the rest of the team, being there when the twins got their jerseys, their first official match, making your way to nationals, the twins debuting their dyed hairs, the incident, Kita’s captaincy, him berating you for resigning and convincing you to stay, the painful and cold second year, walking out during preliminaries, breaking down in the club room, having to tell Atsumu he was chosen for the Youth Camp, meeting Sho-chan at nationals, resigning only to be brought back, arcades with the trouble children, sunflowers given by the juniors on your birthday, training in Asano and Yoshimichi, training the new recruits, warmer days in the club, nationals with with Sho-chan, smacking Atsumu in the face, the retirement and turning over, graduation – so many great memories, good and bad. They were definitely the time of your life, if not, the greatest. A chapter that’s come to a close, but filled with so many turning points.

Patting the banner affectionately, a single tear slips down your face, landing on the banner, what a deep tangent you’ve found yourself in.

March 23, your birthday.

It fell on a Sunday, on a perfect sun shiny day, just as your family had expected.

On your birthday, it was decided that it would be spent at Sunflower Hill Park at Ono. Seeing as it was a special day, everyone had to dress their best – you included, being the birthday girl. Mika immediately busied herself prettying you up, even getting you to finally wear the dress that Kita had gifted you sometime back. It’s been gathering dust in the closet since he gave it, unsure on when to wear it.

“It’s just my birthday,” you grumbled, Mika immediately shushing you busily brushing your hair aside to work on your eyes, her face pinched into concentration.

“It’s not ‘just your birthday’, (Y/N).” she says, lighting brushing over your eyes. Setting down her eyeshadow palette, she picks up a blush set, instructing you to smile, exposing your dimples.

“19,” you say aloud, announcing to the world freely. “I’m at the peak of my adulthood.”

“You know, you’ve always been an adult all your life.” Mika teases, brush circling your dimples. “But that doesn’t mean you should be down on your birthday.”

“Studies show that it’s only natural to have birthday disappointments the older you get.” You rebuke, watching her frown cutely, setting her blush down, brandishing a mascara in her hand.

“And studies also show that you don’t always have to have that kind of mindset,” she rebukes back, twirling her mascara madly before taking out the wand. “Open your eyes and look up.”

Gulping, you do as she says, feeling the wand passing down your lashes.

“Birthday disappointments can also be stemmed from high expectations – either from childhood or from adolescence. And here’s the hard truth: you actually want to celebrate your birthday, but you just don’t know how to tell people.”

Capping her mascara, she instructs you to close your eyes, which you do, before you’re assaulted with a mist-like spray all over your face. When she tells you to open, you find yourself staring at yourself in the mirror – struck at the person staring back at you. Mika did a great job, highlighting your features, brightening your whole face, it was easy to see now the resemblance between you two.

“We’re not mind readers, (Y/N), we’re your family. And because we love you, we want to celebrate the day you came to bless our lives,” Mika smiles, smoothing your hair.

Helping you put on your dress, even lending you her sandals, she added some finishing touches like earrings and a sun brim hat.

“I look like those stereotypical animes shown in the summer.” You comment about your reflection in the mirror, to which Mika rolls her eyes at.

“Would you stop, you look beautiful!”

Taking her words with a grain of salt – seeing how pretty she was in her own dress, you smiled and the two of you walk out the room.

“Are you two done, now- Ah, how pretty!” coos your mother, pressing her hands to her mouth, eyes watering.

“Mom, you’re being dramatic-“

“My girls are so pretty! Especially the birthday girl!”

Beside you, Mika looks pleased with herself, especially at her work.

“Happy birthday, sweetie,” says your mom, taking your face in her hands, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

Swallowing down hard, fighting off tears that have strangely formed, you smile at her. “Thanks mom.”

“Alright, let’s go down now! Everyone’s waiting for us!”

Anxiety rose up, heart in your chest as you three descended the stairs, where you could hear people chatting about in the living room. Everyone was there – your uncle, Kaoru, Reiki, the Miyas, even the twins. It was Atsumu who saw you first, doing a double take, taking you in.

And then his mom squealed at the sight of you. “Ah!!!!! (Y/N)-chan, you look so pretty!” everyone turns to you, much to your horror. “Happy birthday, sweet girl!” she says.

“…thank you, Auntie.” Your voice was quiet, raspy.

Being the center of attention, everyone’s smiles on you was unnerving.

Self-consciously, you duck under their gazes, face burning.

To your surprise, your family had long planned this together with the Miyas. What made it extra special was the fact that it was just days after the three of you graduated and of Mika’s return. An outing of two families, in a field of little suns spread across the field.

At the sight of tall, bright yellow and brown flowers, your eyes sparkled in child-like wonder. Sensing your excitement, Mika, with her uncle’s camera slung around her neck, hooked her arm around yours, giggling and pulling you further in the park, leaving Atsumu and the rest to follow after.

The adults were discussing amongst themselves, discussing where they should set up, Reiki happily stuck around them, ever ready to help around, while Kaoru was running off to join his sisters. Alone with his brother, Osamu elbows him.

"Is something wrong with you and Mika-nee?" Osamu asks him, feeling the breeze against his skin.

On the way to Ono, with the twins, you, Mika, and Reiki, in Reiki’s car, there was a noticeable avoidance between Atsumu and Mika. However, the two easily played it off. Mika was busy chatting up with her boyfriend, Atsumu looked over your shoulder, as you answered birthday greetings.

Even way before that, the two of them were masterful in their way of seeming fine, but when they interacted, it felt rather stiff.

Sighing, Atsumu’s eyes found Kaoru, who was giggling as Mika was getting you to pose in front of flowers, you, clearly embarrassed, tried to talk your way out of it.

"I confronted her about their dad," Atsumu grumbles, hands in his pocket. Eventually, you caved in your sister’s whims, posing demurely, before Kaoru cheered you to try other poses.

Osamu's eyes widened. "Are you an idiot!? Why would you-"

"Did you know that she also told him about our graduation?"

Osamu stopped at that, at its implication, their eyes going to the older (L/N) sister, showing the photos to you.

"Damn."

"I know. Pretty shitty of her."

"Wow, 'Tsumu badmouthing Mika-nee, that's new."

Scoffing, he lifted his head to meet his brother’s. "What the fuck does that mean?"

Shrugging easily, Osamu explains, as their parents walk southward into the park, where an open area for picnic was. "Almost a year ago, you were nothing but praises for her, wouldn’t shut up about her on and on and on.” Breathing out a laugh, he shakes his head when he adds. “Heck, even if she farted you'd think it was cute."

Atsumu's face wrinkles, cringes. "That was before."

“Still,” walking ahead, he stares his brother down, feeling a chill run down his spine. “you never let us forget. Never let (Y/N) forget that.”

Up ahead, the (L/N) siblings were soon joined by Reiki, who took the camera from Mika, opting to take photos of the siblings. (Y/N), who was sandwiched between her older and younger sibling, all smiles for the camera.

“A year ago, it was as though your mission was to make (Y/N) feel so shitty about yourself, all because of your stupid little crush. It took her finally deciding to leave for you to snap out of it.”

Swallowing thickly, Atsumu vaguely remembered that moment of panic, like something had clawed into his chest. Immediately, he feels a sense of shame – for everything he had done to you.

"'Tsumu, you realize that you never said you're sorry to (Y/N), right?"

The hardest pill to swallow was realizing that despite the year he’s had, devoted to making up to you, it just wasn’t enough. Actions may speak louder than words, but just saying those words were just as important. Especially because it was worth noting that, sometimes, Atsumu’s actions can be contradicting to his words and may confuse you. You, who’s suffered quietly all this time, who forced themselves to power through, who unselfishly put others before yourself.

“I’m way past that now,” determination was thick in his tone, strong in his words.

Osamu felt proud to see it, loved to see it. They were nearing their parents – who finally found a nice picnic spot, just right next to the playground hustle.

"Didn't you say that Mika-nee was your one true love?" he couldn’t help but say, egging on his brother, never letting him down on his fuck up.

Osamu nearly fell back as Atsumu tackled him, slapping a hand to his mouth, lest anyone heard it. "KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, SHITTY 'SAMU!"

"Wasn't she though!?"

"I was a kid!" he reasoned out. "I didn't know shit!"

"Clearly still don't now!" Osamu yelled slapping his brother's hand away from his face.

"FUCK YOU!"

"Now, now, Atsumu, Osamu, no fighting on (Y/N)'s special day!" calls their dad, hands on his hips. Beside him was their mom, smiling as she took photos of the sunflowers all around them.

"Oh, oh, oh, sweetie, let's take a photo with the birthday girl!" hooking her arm around her husband's she didn't give him time to back out before dragging him with her, smiling sweetly at her sons. "And no fighting, Atsumu, Osamu, it's a special day!"

Speaking of special day, Atsumu’s eyes turned to the fields, where you were – feeling his heart settle at your familiar frame, your gentle expression as you gazed at the vibrant yellow sunflowers. He remembered that field trip when they were younger, remembered where your eyes were staring, dug through the display when no one was looking and snuck it in his bag, feeling giddy all over, remembered the smile that came to your face.

It was brighter than any of the sunflowers.

Under the clear blue skies, the sun was shining bright, smiling down on everyone – especially a particular group down at Ono Sunflower Hill Park, circling a girl dressed in white, balloons in hands, all wearing smiles as they sang to greet her.

Their singing echoed out in the field, the wind carrying on their love for the girl in the middle, the girl whose heart was just filled with love with everyone around her.

A simple white cake, decorated in the same flowers that surrounded them was presented to her, and a single candle stood alit, waiting.

When the singing dwindled down, the girl stared at her cake, closed her eyes, and then blew.

She was now 19.

What a lovely day to be loved, feel loved, and be celebrated by love.

Emboldened by his talk with Osamu, brought also by epiphany, Atsumu finds himself carefully approaching Mika.

“Mika-nee, can we talk?”

Reiki, having sensed the mood, excused himself, but not before kissing his girlfriend on the forehead and taking Kaoru with him away from the playground.

Squirming under his gaze, remembering his blow-up on her days before, she fixes him a pleading look. "Atsumu, look, I don't want to fight with you-"

"I'm not sorry for blowing up on you like that, Mika-nee.” He starts, meaning every word. “But I am sorry for intruding into your family business. I just care for (Y/N), she's..." he swallows thickly. "she's been through so much."

Mika’s expression softens, eyes shining. "You really care a great deal about (Y/N), huh?"

“Always have, always will.”

“I’m glad.”

Mika smiles sweetly at him, fiddling with her hands. “It’s just…he’s still my dad, what he did was unforgivable, but the idea of reconnecting with him,” she sniffles, wiping a tear. “how could I not? And then I thought, that maybe (Y/N) would be on board with the idea…” she shakes her head, laughing incredulously. “Clearly, I forgot that I can’t force it on her, can’t fix the trauma he did.” Her face pinches, pained and regret.

The old Atsumu would have rushed and comforted her, assured her that she did great. Emphasis on the old, the Atsumu now just stared, letting her wallow on her mistake.

Covering her face, she groaned into it, before fixing herself up, slapping her cheeks together. “Wooh! How embarrassing of me! Looks like I’ve got a long way to go!” she laughs. Atsumu can’t help but laugh with her.

Even now, her ability to smile through the pain, shoulder her burdens, amazes him. There was a reason he admired this young woman before him, but seeing her open up to her flaws made him admire her even more.

And then he felt it, the urge, something clawing at his chest, words that needed to be said.

“Mika-nee, actually,” the older girl looks up at him, waits patiently. “I…I like you.” Back when he was younger, he had envisioned the perfect confession – something almost like this, with the sun setting behind them, painting them in the afterglow. That was one of his two options for confessing, the other being in the letter he poured his heart in, with your help. “I liked you, Mika-nee.”

It feels freeing to finally say that, to let the person know how much they meant to them. Even if it were no longer the case.

She smiles, sweetly again. “I know.”

Atsumu looks up at her, surprised. Mika’s smile remains.

“E-Eh?”

“I received your letter,” his eyes widen, confusion crawling over. “(Y/N) snuck it into my things before I left for the Netherlands.”

You did that for him? You.

Looking back, his eyes could only widen, realizing that it had been during the incident. Atsumu is assaulted with guilt all over again, brought by your unselfishness, just unsure with what he could say.

“I always thought that it would be the two of you, you know? You three were thick as thieves, enough to rival the three musketeers. But you and (Y/N)? I always felt like there was a great bond between you two.”

“N-Nee-san…actually…I-“ Everything he did to you in the year following the incident came to mind, his self-hate rising, Mika deserved to know.

Instead, she gently shakes her head. “It’s not me you should be telling that to, Atsumu. It’s (Y/N).” taking his arm in her hand, she cups his chin, (e/c) eyes meeting his honey browns, smiling and squeezing on to him arm encouragingly. “Go.”

Coming to, he nods and quickly starts running. Before fully leaving the playground, Mika calls him. “Oh, and Atsumu? Thank you so much for your feelings!”

“Osamu,”

“Hm?”

“Remember when you told me about your first love?”

“…yeah.” He sighs, heavily. “The umeboshi to my onigiri.”

“That’s a funny analogy,” with your arm over his, you leaned against his shoulder as the two of you walked along the pat. “but very fitting for someone you love.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it off. What’s yours?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you look to the field.

“Ah, yes.” Osamu nods, following your gaze. “Sunflowers.”

Leaning against his arm, you murmur. “…he’s my sunflower, Osamu.”

Osamu doesn’t say anything for a while, watching how Kaoru and Reiki raced beside them. Two people missing from their group. “I know he is.”

“And you’re my chicken noodle soup.”

He snorts, looking down at you. “Why?”

“It’s my comfort food, remember? Also, you’re my best friend. You should feel honored.”

“Strange analogy you got there.” He waves at his grandparents, enjoying themselves watch the children play in the fountains.

“Not as strange as your umeboshi and onigiri,” you remind him, teasingly.

Rolling his eyes at that, he can’t deny the gentleness of your voice, its weight and wistfulness.

“Thanks for being my best friend, Osamu.”

Patting his hand over yours, he replies. “Always.”

Breaking away, you smile gratefully at him. He lets you walk off from him, taking a new path.

“Stop sounding like you’re about to die, (Y/N). S’not funny.”

Laughing, you could only tuck your hands behind you. “I’m just feeling nostalgic!”

“Where’re you going?”

“For a walk!”

“Geez, aren’t you tired of walking?”

“Nope,” and you walk further in the new path, Osamu watches you go, but doesn’t follow.

With all his heart, he wishes, for your birthday, all the best for you. Keeping his eyes on white, it slowly shrinks as you walk further and further, away and away, until you were out of sight.

Huffing and puffing, he looked around wildly, searching for (h/c) in a white dress. Atsumu almost cursed at how big of an area the park was, felt pathetic that he was winded out after some runs – he was a fucking athlete, god damn it! About to join a pro-fucking-league-

"Are you looking for someone?" a voice asked him, turning, Atsumu nearly sagged in relief when he found who he was looking for.

You.

"You," he says breathlessly, lips stretched into a wide smile.

Your face scrunched into a light frown, wondering, before producing a handkerchief in your hands, patting his sweaty face. “Have you been running around the park?”

“Nah, just now.” Your frown softens a bit. “Like I said, I was looking for you.”

Tilting your head to the side, confused, you asked. “Why?”

Atsumu opened his mouth, only to stop, realization getting the best of him. Shiiiiiiit.

Suddenly shy, he laughed it off, nervously, uncaring that people were looking at him funny. Concerned washed over your features, which warmed him from the inside, especially with you looking at him all pretty like that. But heck, even without the makeup, you were something else.

“Come on,” you opened a hand to him, an invitation.

Atsumu stared at it, at the scar on your middle finger. Placing his in yours, his larger hand over yours, the two of you began to walk hand-in-hand. You took him by the fields, deep in, as though to hide you amongst the flowers, to be one with them, to a secret place for you both.

For all his life, he couldn’t imagine having to miss out on the feeling, like everything he’s known his whole life is nothing compared to the bright, vibrant yellows and browns around him, in the girl dressed in white, leading him through. And he let you.

How is it that he’s never noticed? Why had he never thought of seeing you? It feels as though he’s led a life blind.

With a tug, the two of you exit the field and into a clearing, all Atsumu can focus on was your smile.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” you laugh, walking a few steps to the path. “walking across a sunflower field, I mean.”

Atsumu can’t keep his eyes off your smile, even as the both of you sit on the grass, facing the famed 'Sunflower Tower' made of Mikage granite.

The two of you found yourselves in your little hideaway, with nothing but the sky, the sun, the flowers, and the tower, and of course, each other.

“Sounds like something fresh outta a fairy tale,”

Nodding, you fold your legs, drawing your knees near. “Sunflowers are quite tall, after all. Tall and tough flowers.”

“Like me?”

Laughing, your turn to him, staring at him for a while. “Maybe. Especially with your blond dye.”

At the mention of his hair, he runs a hand through it. “…I’m, uh, thinking of keeping it.”

“You should,” your eyes follow his hands carding through his hair, dark roots slowly showing through. “it’ll be your signature look.”

Running a hand through the back of his hair, he fists them there, unable to look away from you.

You.

Amazing, smart, patient, kind, selfless, beautiful you.

“(Y/N)…” your name came easy through his mouth.

Tilting your head, letting strands of hair slip off your shoulders, you parrot back, “Atsumu…”

Just when did everything seem to feel different between you two? And just how long had he missed the way you look bathed in the sunlight?

Fidgeting a little, Atsumu could feel his strength leave him, being at the receiving end of your gaze. However, looking up, he also draws strength from them.

“I, uh, I kept them,” at your frowned confusion, he shyly – oh so quietly, adds, “your letters.”

Immediately, your face burns, feeling goosebumps run all over your spine. “Ugh,” slapping your hands over your eyes, you wish you could also slap the cringe away. “why.”

Atsumu smiles, despite your apparent horror, shrugging easily.

“It’s a reminder, I guess. A reminder that someone actually liked me. Genuinely and truly. Thought of me. Appreciated me. Written and practically poured her heart out in paper, when it’s the fucking twenty first century. Living proof that someone did that for me, but I was the asshole who humiliated her for something so genuine and heartfelt.”

You would’ve argued then and there, having seen the many love letters he and his brother received from his fan club over the years. And yet, the only one he recognizes are yours.

“Atsumu,” words were failing you, so you just sighed. “that’s behind us now.”

But the look on his face wouldn’t go away, eyes darkening – a dangerous storm brewing, festering.

"You can't return my feelings,” you say kindly. “that's not your fault neither is it your problem."

"Y-Yeah, but I could at least try to-"

"Atsumu, stop. Just, stop.” Turning to him, you take his hand in yours – the one with a scar, fingers rubbing comfortingly. “Please.” You’ve thought about it for a while, a long while, it needed to be said. “I'm not going to force you to like me back, it's not right and it's just wrong. Just because I liked you doesn't mean you're obligated to return my feelings when you clearly don't like me like that. That's that."

"B-But-"

"Besides, I've already accepted it – that my feelings can't reach you." swallowing down it all - the heartache and pain, you lifted your gaze and offered a smile. "If all you're worried about is me forgiving you, rest assured that I have."

"But I don't deserve your forgiveness!" he all but screams, shocking you, his eyes were wet and filled with so much remorse, pain, helplessness, and regret. "I've been an ass to you, (Y/N)! I hurt you while you were already hurting," he remembered having to listen to your cries, muffled behind your hands, the forced smiles, the pained look in your eyes, your back turned to him, his panic of not being able to find you during practice. The realization of the distance between both of you because of him. "I walked around you even though you were breaking from the inside. I might as well be worse than your deadbeat, asshole of a father because I wasn't there for you. I hurt you just as he did! I failed you! I-I-"

A gentle hand touched his elbow, shaking him, he looks up, meeting your kind (e/c) gaze. And that smile, that same kind smile that stretched to your eyes, reflecting an oh so loving gaze he knew he didn't deserve. Even without saying a word, you understood everything he wanted to say, all the sorries that's been resting on his tongue, heavy with the weight of his sins, of the burdens of hurting you, of the love he's had and continue to have for you.

He didn't deserve you.

You didn't deserve him.

But you both loved each other just as much.

"(Y-Y/N)," his voice was barely a whisper, wet and croaking. "I'm so sorry...!"

Enveloping you into a hug, he cries into your shoulder, repeatedly saying “I’m sorry” over and over again.

And you just hold him, caressing his head with your other hand.

“I’ll always love you, Atsumu,” your confession just tore at him, tears leaking more. “you will always be my first love, and that will never change.”

Atsumu hugs you tighter, cries harder. “I love you, too.”

When you let go, there was a smile on your face – a radiant, bright, reflected in your eyes that it brightened up your whole face. Like a sunflower greeting the sun, Atsumu found himself smiling, too. Released from the embrace, in his eyes, he feels his heart fill with a bittersweet sense of warmth and twinge.

Despite it all, it still felt good. It felt really good. Talking to you, settling things with you, loving you – it felt right.

Certain people come into our lives whether we like it or not, and you were no exception.

Sadly, just because you came into their life doesn’t automatically guarantee that they’ll stay with you forever. You can only have them for a time.

One of them may end up as your first love, but it's not guaranteed that they will be your last. They'll be just that - your first love, the first person you offered your heart to, but not the person who gets to keep it.

You were his forever person, the first love he realized too late.

end.

243 notes · View notes

all-about-seggs · 4 years ago

Text

Sultry Blues-

Rating: ❌18+, Explicit❌

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Insecure! Fem Reader

Word count: 2.5 k

Warnings: Trigger warning for insecurities (not specified), Body Worshipping, a bit of food play, cunnilingus, Semi-public sex.

The faint sounds of ringing bells from the shrine was still in the air as you made your way to the inner structure of the prestigious Jujutsu academy. The path to the meeting room was straight and lined with stone carvings which gave the entire place an ancient look. You had a lunchtime date with your boyfriend, who would, hopefully be on time so you could be on your way.

This place always made you uneasy, not because of the dangerous connotations it brought in everyone’s lives but it was the people who freaked you out the most. To you, each one of the teachers as well as the students looked like some characters straight from a book, elegant, strong and perfectly capable of doing things normal people like you could only read about. Not having enough confidence on yourself physically or mentally worsened every time it dawned on you that you were dating the most perfect being of them all.

Perplexing wouldn’t even began to describe your state of mind when Satoru first took interest in you, sure looks or status didn’t meant anything to him but even in terms of personality you never thought the two of you would get along, so much so that you would become such an irreplaceable part of each other. But you knew his feelings for you did nothing to stop the ache in your heart when you saw him getting ganged up on by a bunch of women. Women attractive than you, smarter than you and definitely stronger than you.

This was exactly the place where all those kind of women lived making you feel even more of an outsider in his world. Not wanting to cause Satoru any worries you tried to psyche yourself up by picking up your pace only to be met with a hard shoulder to your cheek.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t looking”, you looked up at the stranger, she was tall, her sturdy figure seemed like she was also a sorcerer but her ID pass was tucked on the breast pocket of her coat along with her youthful face indicated she was a student, you squinted to see that her name was Lisa and as you were about to apologise when you saw her sneer at you.

“ Ugh… outsiders. Don’t you know how to walk properly? Or did you not learn that in your no name school?”, her condescending tone took you aback.

You knew you didn’t exactly belong here but she wasn’t cutting you any slack for being a civilian either. You wanted to ask her why was she being so rude but your queries were cut off as by the girl.

“ No need to explain yourself I already know who you are, I’ve seen you following Gojo- San like a lost puppy a lot of times, seriously it’s like you don’t even have a presence without him.”, with a pause you finally thought her pointless berating would come to a stop but she went on.

“ He has a reputation to uphold here so don’t go around embarrassing him with your airheaded and average looking face”, now with THAT she crossed the line but as much as you wanted to give her a comeback all you anger turned into self loathing in a matter of seconds and you stood there dumbly not being able to defend yourself from the onslaught of verbal attacks that even you partially agreed with.

Not even bothering to look at her when she passed you thought about her mean words that were half untrue. You knew dating a popular guy would include more that just a little bit harmless envy of girls. At this point you’d be lucky if you didn’t get attacked by one of your boyfriend’s fangirl. But, It wasn’t about Satoru anymore, you thought. It was about how you were letting the jealousy of his superficial admirers who didn’t even knew only knew his name and face. Before you could delve more into your darkening thoughts you heard a cheery voice call out to you.

Bag at hand, which probably contained some sort of dessert you saw Satoru gleefully making his way towards you. It took you a few seconds to plaster a believable smile to your face so you could greet him normally.

“ Wow I can’t believe IM the one who had to wait around this time”, placing a tiny kiss on your nose he pulled you in for a hug, his warmth seeping into you put your mind at ease and help you distract yourself from the horrible encounter before.

“ The meeting was pointless and even the snacks turned out to be lame”, whining a little he waved the bag in front of you. A convenient store vanilla sponge cake with a packet of strawberry sauce was right in front of you and honestly if it were you, you’d probably eat it without question but knowing his love for quality sweets it was understandable why he’d complain.

“ Well actually, with the right toppings and modifications even convenient store packed cakes can taste top class!”, thinking about all the ways you’ve experimented watching diy food videos you started thinking up of ways to serve it to him.

“I see, that’s a good idea and I think it’ll give us some headstart for our date wouldn’t it?”, saying that he gestured you towards one of the buildings that lead to the back exit.

Walking hand in hand Satoru came to a stop which seemed like a closed off gate that was not in use anymore.

“ Why are we here? I thought the back exit was the other way around?”, confusion painted over you face you turned to face your mischievous partner.

“ you said you’d help me eat them, and I think it’s a pretty good place, don’t you?”, stepping closer he urged you to take a look around. The area didn’t have any benches, buildings or even people around and the only sound you could hear was the birds and the small artificial streams of river that flowed a few steps away from the closed off exit.

If Satoru was insinuating something you started to get the hang of it and you soon felt you face get hotter. The afternoon sun did nothing to help you cool down as you struggled to make sense of the situation. His hands were all over your body, caressing, pinching and feeling you up.

“ What’s wrong? Not up for it in semi public style?”, his breathy voice got lost in the crook of you neck where he inhaled your scent, “ you know nobody’s gonna come” with a slight push, he pinned you againt the vine-covered gate, “Except for you”.

“what the- WAIT! It’s still so bright out here not to mention we’re in PUBLIC Satoru!”, wide eyed you try to grab at his hand that was halfway done unbuttoning the top of your blouse.

“Do you want me to blindfold you?”, throwing these words nonchalantly he started licking every bit of exposed skin he could find from your ears to chest.

His mouth made contact with your covered breasts and without bothering to remove the piece of clothing he latched his mouth onto your hardened nipple to give it a gentle bite. Holding back your own moans you placed you hands on his broad shoulders, a feeble attempt at stopping him.

“How would THAT resolve anything?!” already half naked, your retorts seemed like pathetic excuses even to your own ears. It wasn’t until you heard a sharp rip that you realised your underwear was no longer on your body anymore. With a horrified look you saw your unusable underwear in Satoru’s hand.

“ I don’t think you’ll be needing these anymore my sweetness because I want to see ALL of you”, dangling the fabric from his long fingers he made a show of tucking it in his pocket. Hiking your skirt up with one hand he caressed the soft flesh with his thumbs.

“I knew you had no sense of danger but this could even get us arrested”, your reasoning seemed to fell on deaf ears as your boyfriend, already half way down on the ground, pulled his blindfold down with ease. Looking at up at you with his ethereal turquoise eyes that lied beneath strips of heavy white eyelashes, this part of his face was something you couldn’t see all the time.

“You’re beautiful……”, the genuine nature of his words felt unreal when compared to his everyday frivolous self, “at least I’ve always thought so”.

All the voices in the place except for his, got drowned out by the throbbing of your heart in your chest when he kneeled right in front of your crotch. The warm smile on his lips contradicted with his tantalizing actions but he enjoyed it precisely because of that.

“Open your legs a bit more y/n, I need more space to eat”, with his haughty smirk back he exposed more of your pussy with his fingers and dribbled the strawberry sauce over it until it started trickling down to the ground underneath it.

“This looks like a good dessert, waaay better than the one I was offered before”, making one last smartass comment he threw the now empty packet away and your sugar coated pussy was soon met with Satoru’s soft, warm tongue as he buries his face in it. His tongue worked it’s way beneath the layer of your pussy hair and down to the soft flabby skin underneath. Your natural slick combined with the dressing sauce tasted even sweeter in his mouth, the pleasant hums falling uncontrollably from his mouth made you wetter.

All the blemishes, scars and your self imposed flaws started melting into something more complete and unbreakable in its nature when you felt Satoru touching you, feeling you and tasting you from the inside and out.

His warm hands firmly gripped your thighs to lap at the soft peak in between. All the sensations his tongue was providing you made your vision turn black and your body heated up to the point of burning. The broad daylight and your exposed form added to the fear of being found out but your trust in your boyfriend outweighed everything so you let him have his way.

“ Hmmm, yeah y/n…”, the exaggeratingly loud slurping of his mouth came to a stop as he looked up at you, his pink lips glistening even more when he spoke, “Even this cheap stuff tastes better when I eat it directly from you”.

You were a panting mess, already having lost the ability to make coherent words you kept you eyes on Satoru as rose to his feet.

“ Let’s move on to the next part shall we?”, after smoothening out your skirt of you he held out his hand and your need for release took over all rhyme and reason so you put one of your shaking hand in his. The next few moments were confusing as a white light enveloped both of your forms and by the time your vision returned you found yourself in an unknown room.

The place itself was nothing out of the ordinary, some books, a cupboard and a vanity. The single bed near the curtained window was properly made. It was clearly not Satoru’s room but the neatness of the place also suggested that it wasn’t an unused room either.

“ Hey we’re are we?”, you question the white haired male when he casually made his way to switch on the lights.

“Don’t worry we’re still in the academy premises, you wanted to finish this right? And I didn’t wanted to go another second with hearing your pretty voice, so you can scream now,” his voice dangerously low, he held your arms in both of his hands and guided you to the single bed in the corner.

“ and I didn’t meant that as a request”, flat on your back you had no time for further questioning as your exposed cunt got filled to the brim in a single thrust. The stretch made you cry out and remembering Satoru’s previous warning you didn’t bother covering your mouth. The light in the room was enough for him to see all of you, even if he had all of you memorized at the back of since the first time.

Your twisted face that you’d consider ugly was nothing if not arousing to him from the kneeling position of his at the edge of the bed, endearing even at how the side of your eyes well up everytime he fucked you so hard, the creaking of the bed acted as a proof of his brutal pace that threatened to break the furniture.

Each powerful thrust of his made your entire body lurch from its position, your juices flowed endlessly down your thighs, on Satoru’s cock and down to the sheets. Your voice ricocheted off the walls and gave life to the entire building.

Having your orgasm cut off before, the anticipation that had build up made your upcoming release feel even ore intense. Your walls started clenching around his shaft, already feeling waves of ecstasy you waited for it to reach its peak.

“ Y/n...Come for me”, in between his grunts he placed on of his hand on the side of your head, lowering himself till your noses touched. Breaths intermingling, you came with a loud cry of his name. Euphoria spreaded through both of your bodies making a gush of liquid come out of your pussy when Satoru pulled out, both of your mess soiled the sheet.

Few minutes of silence passed by as a fully clothed Satoru sat beside you, stroking your head until you calmed down.

“ Hey y/n?”, abruptly his cheeky tone filled the room and you looked up at him questioningly,

“ Wanna take a pic? ya'know, as a momento”, the odd question made you come to an obvious conclusion, which now seemed obvious considering your boyfriend’s not so secret rebellious nature and with how much of a brat he can be it was nothing short of hilarious.

“ It’s Lisa’s room isn’t it?”, barely controlling your laughter you tried to pry an answer out of him, the soothing motion of his hands never coming to a stop he took out his phone with another.

“ Yeah, it is, I’d say it’s an excellent way of showing her our ‘bond’ dontcha think?”, his cringey answer made you burst into laughter. The first real smile he’d seen on your face since you got here was something Satoru wanted to be a constant thing, always there when he wanted to see it just like a still photograph.

Bending his face down his lips softly met your forehead and before you could open your eyes back up you heard the click of the camera go off.

“ Heh, so how is it?”, propping yourself up on your elbows you tried to peak at the screen but it was pulled out of sight just as quickly.

“ It’s perfect”, with a warm smile that reached all the way to his eyes Satoru put his phone down before peering into your eyes, “and it’s mine”.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru #jjk oneshot #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #my writing

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sixeyesgojo · 4 years ago

Text

Pictures of You

Summary: prequel to I’ll Be Your Enemy - fluffy!

Characters: IBYE!Reader, Gojo, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara

Word count: 2,3k

Content warning: none

A/N: requested by @thecaptainsbride

If anybody got the reference Gojo made when he was late; congratulations, you have been successfully hurt (but this time it was not me).

Since I left the relationship between Gojo and the reader up for interpretation in IBYE, I will do the same here! Consider this piece me trying to mend your hearts <3

Taglist applications open for anyone who is interested!

“A trip to an amusement park or something like that doesn’t sound so bad,” you mused in front of Satoru. “It serves as relaxation and maybe the first-years can get closer to each other, you know, bonding and so on. They will see each other many times from now on, so getting along with each other is important,” you reasoned, your eyes almost sparkling from the thought of a day off.

“But Jujutsu Sorcery is an individual–” he began.

“Satoru, I think you should see this as vacation. A vacation where you can eat sweets until your teeth rot and absolutely nobody will hold you back,” you interrupted him.

“Okay, I am sold. Am listening now.” You just knew how to convince him. Sweets.

So that was exactly how the first-year students and you ended up at a fairground somewhere in Tokyo; it was quite neat, not too small but not too spacious either. None of you could get lost in it. Still, it was buzzing with life and all kinds of people mingled. The colorfulness was a refreshing sight to take in, compared to the dark world of Jujutsu Sorcery where seeing people suffer was your daily routine. The pleasant smell of food wafted through the air, making your mouth water, as you walked past the different booths with them. Waffles sounded like absolute heaven on earth right now.

Jujutsu Sorcery certainly was a draining sport, mentally as well as physically. Therefore it was only right to take a break at times, right? Self-care days were just as important as working.

In order to wind down a bit, you had suggested a one-day trip – just you, Satoru and the three first-year students you had adopted in your mind right away after meeting them several times.

“Sensei, you look very pretty today!” Yuji complimented you. Even Megumi noticed: “Did you have a haircut? Your hair seems a little bit shorter.”

“Yeah, Nobara had a field day with me. Cutting my hair.. or more like trimming the ends, choosing my outfit, doing my make-up and so on just for today,” you gushed as if you were a high school girl again. “Leave it to master stylist Kugisaki Nobara and nobody will ever look bad,” the brunette girl commended herself. Yuji was affectionately patting her on the back.

Undoubtedly, Satoru was late – nobody was surprised about that. You already went ahead and generously treated the trio of students you loved dearly to some food.

“Thank you for the food, sensei!” As usual, Yuji and Nobara were in perfect harmony with each other, seemingly sharing a brain.

“Thank you very much,” Megumi also expressed his thanks sweetly. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought the way his lips seemed to twitch was unintentional. “Absolutely no problem, kiddos. You guys enjoy it while I try to contact Gojo-sensei, yeah?” you shot them an apologetic smile, already fishing out your phone. The three of them nodded in perfect synchronization. They’re as cute as little ducklings, you thought.

You didn’t even need to bother calling.

You were about to dial Satoru’s number on your smartphone when Yuji’s voice boomed, “Oh! There he is! Gojo-sensei, we are here!!”

The boy waved at his teacher.

Satoru immediately spotted the pink-haired student and skipped over to where you all were standing. “Sorry for the wait! I’m afraid I got lost on the path of life!!”

“Nice of you to finally join us, but sadly, the fun is already over and we decided to go home. Just wanted to call you to let you know! We’ve been here since morning,” you deadpanned as the white-haired man arrived, looking Satoru dead in the eye – if they weren’t covered. “Wait, wha– Hold on, I am very sure I am not that late. MY MOCHI?” Satoru sounded frantic, facing his students who just shrugged their shoulders. “Serves you right,” Megumi stated calmly. Nobara, being the sassy girl she was, also joined in, “Losers don’t get to have fun and that’s a fact.”

It was such a wholesome and funny moment for you to see the students playing along with your prank without being told beforehand.

You broke out in laughter, not being able to contain it any longer, “You should have seen your face, dumbass! I was just joking!”

“Phew, I almost thought I had to kiss the idea of eating sweets today goodbye. What a horror that would be, my day would be OVER this instant,” the blindfolded man pouted, “so where should I buy my sweets? I’m gonna buy the entire place anyway, but where do I start? Any suggestions for Great Teacher Gojo?”

“Hold up, Satoru! We gotta take a picture together to commemorate this special day!” you suggested, bouncing up and down with enthusiasm. “I swear I just saw sensei’s eyes sparkle but I might be wrong,” Yuji remarked, looking at his dark-haired friend for confirmation.

“Sensei, if you want to take a picture, we have to take it at the right angle!” Nobara chimed in, the secret Instagram influencer in her on full display. She continued to explain, “It would come out great if Gojo-sensei took the pic, long arms privilege and so on.”

The female student almost seemed more into it than you were, it was adorable to you to see the usually bold student be this into taking pictures.

You hand the tall man your phone, but not without shooting him a “if you drop my phone, I’ll make you drop dead” look.

“Okay, ladies, now let’s get in formation,” the male teacher commanded loudly. Upon hearing that, Megumi immediately slapped his hand in his face and turned away in embarrassment. Why was this man like this?

“...Ladies?” Yuji asked, the expression on his face screaming ‘confusion’ “Gojo-sensei just referenced a Beyoncé song, Itadori,” the dark-haired boy explained in a hushed tone, turning back slightly as if he did not want to get caught.

“And it’s not just any song!” Satoru happily chimed in. “Yes, yes, the good old Formation,” you added, nodding in satisfaction. You remember how you showed him the album when it dropped.

“Can we all just ignore Gojo-sensei and take our pic?” Nobara inquired as she shoved everybody into their respective spots. “Alright, everybody, smiiiiile for the camera. Say cheese!”

Click, click, click, click.

Finally, Satoru had gotten his share of sweets. Complying with his sweet tooth was always an effective way to calm him for some time. Almost like feeding a baby, in a way.

Now it was time for fun rides!

...or at least that was what you thought… until Satoru dragged you along to ride a freaking pendulum ride with him. The three students had managed to talk themselves out of stepping foot on that monster of a ride but Satoru didn’t even give you a chance to refuse, he simply gripped your arm and walked towards it.

Stopping only when you were already standing in line, you nervously eyed the metallic behemoth with its iron arm. The monstrosity was seemingly ready to make you throw up from the way it would spin you through the air repeatedly, going back and forth and back and forth again. Why did you have to do this?

“Satoru,” you called his name timidly and tugged at his sleeve, the strange feeling not leaving your gut, “do I really, really have to do this?”

“Absolutely! I promise it will be very fun,” Satoru replied with a signature grin you wanted to wipe off of his face at that moment.

No, it was not fun. At all. You were dizzy and your fear of height was kicking. The blasts of air hitting your face left, right and center were not helping at all and you were sure, if anybody took a picture of you right now, you would look horribly green.

“I– can’t do this anymore!” you shouted mid-air, right before the ride swung to the other side. The force knocked the air out of you once again.

“SATORU, PLEASE GET US OUT OF HERE!” you begged and squeezed his arm with an iron grip. The height was too overwhelming. “Mid-ride?” Satoru asked and you nodded frantically. “Now that’s what I call reckless! Sounds like fun. I’m in!” he declared with a grin.

“Domain Expansion: Infinite Void.”

That was the last thing you heard the tall man say before he touched your head with his large palm.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized this man used his domain this recklessly, for fun. Maybe it was a side effect of being able to use it multiple times a day.

The infinity gently wrapped itself around Satoru and you. Almost movie-like, you watched as the entire, vast universe beautifully unfolded in front of your eyes. Each star being created separately, then abruptly flashing by as a sea of stars – as if you were in a wormhole. You perceived the entire domain within a flash of a moment, yet tasted eternity in it. Everything but nothing at once.

Despite being touched by Satoru himself, the sensations weren’t without merit. If this was how it felt to be in the safe space of Satoru’s touch within his inner world of Limitless, you would rather not fathom how it felt to be the one hit by this powerful domain.

It took you some time to process things and recollect.

“When I said I wanted you to get the two of us out of that thing, I didn’t mean ‘send me to your domain’,” you scolded him.

“Well, it was convenient,” he defended himself and you could almost hear the grin on his face, “Bet you’ll hate me after this though.”

“Hating you was never really an option I’d ever consider but okay, we’ll run with it this time. Now undo your domain, please, while I am asking nicely.”

“Your wish is my command! This time at least.”

“Satoru.” A stern last warning fell from your lips.

“Yes, yes, boss. On it.”

“I thought you said it’ll be fun but I am absolutely not riding that thing ever again,” you took deep breaths to calm down as your feet securely touched the ground again. Your legs were still trembling a bit.

“And it was fun! At least for me! I like seeing you struggle – it’s so funny – and the way you clung to my arm? Adorable! You are so tiny compared to me, like a bug I could crush between my fingers!” The annoying sorcerer laughed merrily.

“Gojo fucking Satoru, the only thing that is about to be crushed here are your balls. With my leg. You are very lucky to have that damn Infinity of yours or else,” you threatened.

“Ouch, you really do know how to hurt an invincible man,” he snickered and flicked your forehead lightly.

Rejoining with the students was easy as they all saw the barrier Satoru’s domain created.

“You are lucky there was some kind of show going on down here. That barrier above would have freaked people out if they weren’t distracted,” Nobara said, looks shooting daggers at her weird teacher. Innocent and as nice as ever, Yuji pitched in as well: “Yeah, Fushiguro also tried to distract children with their wandering eyes! I think he did a good job.”

“Okay but what did he do though?” you asked curiously and looked at the boy in question.

“...Shadow puppets,” Megumi slowly admitted, looking anywhere but at the people in front of him.

“Oh? You love your foster-dad-turned-great-teacher this much to embarrass yourself out in public? That’s new!” Satoru teased the poor boy. “Someone has to be the voice of reason around here or you’d all be in jail. That includes preventing civilians who are able to see curses from seeing you use Jujutsu while floating mid-air,” he justified, ignoring the tall teacher’s mockery completely.

“As much as I love slandering Gojo-sensei, I’d rather spend my day actually having fun,” Nobara pitched in, reminding everybody of why you were here in the first place.

“So, let’s go ride the ferris wheel!” she added excitedly.

More fun rides.

Before you knew it, the day passed by. You could already feel the heaviness in your legs from walking. The swirling feeling from all the rides boded in your chest – you probably would not be able to sleep well tonight. It was definitely worth it though, you thought.

You had already brought the students back to their dorm – Satoru had ran off to the school because he remembered he had to do something – and were on the way home yourself.

You were in some sort of trance, completely immersed in your phone, so you hadn’t registered when Satoru called your name until he gently tapped your shoulder, falling into step with you.

“Yeah?” you looked up to Satoru, snapping out of your train of thought.

“Just wanted to tell you; ‘Operation: Relaxation Day’ was a great success.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Satoru.” A genuine smile graced your lips and for a moment, he softened at the sight.

“You know what? It was amazing, I really should start listening to you more often,” he confessed with a smirk.

“Well, it’s thanks to your amazing power of persuasion that we got to spend it like this, so thanks for today,” you half-heartedly complimented him.

“You do know I only said we’d not be available today and then dashed, right?” he asked you, the usual playful tone lacing his voice. “Exactly what I meant by saying ‘your amazing power of persuasion’.”

“I think I’ll frame the picture we took,” you murmured softly, fondly looking at the screen of your phone. The picture from earlier was displayed on your homescreen.

Surely, you would hang it on the blank wall in your home as well. It was a personal treasure now.

Taglist (dm me if you wanna be added): @assbuttbaek @megumifushi @bleueluna @gojos-mochi @delammi

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x y/n #domain expansion #infinite void #ibye series

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kenmarlenn · 3 years ago

Note

For prompts: hmm maybe wilford meeting Celci

Dark wasn’t good at greeting new additions to the mindscape.

And new additions who weren’t even Mark’s egos, who were just a part of the Actor’s stories, well… Darkiplier was barely tolerating the Invincible II parked in the middle of the mindscape, and he wasn’t about to go play nice with those inside.

So, naturally, he had sent Wilford instead.

He was, technically, the ego who knew the most about the ship - sure, he was only on board briefly, and really hadn’t intended to be there, but Dark reluctantly agreed that if anyone was going to greet newly minted egos, it should be someone, technically, from the same ‘story’ as them.

It was an impressive ship, to be sure. When the Actor had started his whole ‘space adventure,’ every ego sensitive to the mindscape felt it stretch to accommodate the city-sized vessel. But no one had exited, not yet, despite the indication that there should be thousands on board. And Wilford was interested in why - surely, the ship’s ever curious Captain would have ventured out?

It took a while to find a proper entrance. Even then, it was a couple hundred feet off the ground and without the scaffolding usually present when a spaceship was docked. Of course, that wasn’t a problem for Wilford, who simply floated up to the docking bay door (he couldn’t do it all the time, only when it was funny, or convenient) and knocked.

Nobody answered for a long time, which Wilford thought was rude. He tapped his foot in the air impatiently, then he knocked again, slightly louder. Almost instantly, as if someone had been waiting to hear the noise again, he heard the clanks and whirrs of machines starting up, and the grinding of metal as the docking bay doors slid open.

He allowed them to open enough to allow entry before stepping aboard, already putting on a bright smile despite seeing no one to greet him. “Hello there~” he drawled to the empty room, “my name is Wilford Warfstache, and I–” The whirr of an electric weapon powering up suddenly cut him off, and he felt a spot of heat by his right cheek.

“Don’t move,” his welcoming party warned. Not wanting to turn and stare into what was likely a laser weapon of some sort, Warfstache simply glanced to the side. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted bright blue hair and some kind of fur lining.

“Well,” Wilford said, recovering quickly, “not the first time a beautiful stranger greeted me with a gun.”

“Who are you?” they hissed, ignoring his flattery entirely. They began to move to face him, their futuristic gun still pointed at his head. “Where are we, and why doesn’t any of this make sense?”

“I’m afraid those are loaded questions,” Wilford grinned. His new friend was almost completely facing him, and he craned his neck to see around their fluffy hood. “But I already answered the first one. So I’ll turn it around. You are…?”

The radio was playing swing, and she was dancing. It was one of those nights where they were all enjoying each others’ company, the four of them. The realization hit him when he saw her face. It wasn’t a romantic slow dance or any such thing; she wasn’t even dancing with him, her hand was linked with Mark’s at the moment, but he looked up at her face, flushed from the dancing and the drinking and the company and he knew right then and there. She was –

“Beautiful,” Wilford finished aloud, and pink the same color as his mustache and hair flooded his face for a moment. He had not meant to say that. This time. He had seen her face and just… reacted. Now, she simply looked at him from the depths of her hood, looking both confused and guarded. God, she looked like Celine. And that was not a thought he wanted to dwell on for too long, so he switched gears and snapped his fingers. “Ah! You’re a Pam ego.”

“I’m a what?” The gun lowered a tad bit.

“Pam ego,” Wilford repeated slowly. He clapped his hands together, now completely disregarding the woman’s instruction not to move. “Oh, Pamick Attack will finally have a friend! Perhaps there will be a mindscape for you now that there are two of you, but you never know.”

“What are you talking about?” The woman said, her voice raising a pitch. Wilford is reminded of Abe for a moment. “Why do you look like our engineer? Where is the Captain? Where are the rest of the crew and the colonists? What the f*ck?!”

“Welcome to the mindscape,” Warfstache sighs and points deeper into the ship. “Have anywhere we could… sit down and talk?”

#ken writes

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atelier-maroron · 2 years ago

Note

Thanks 😍😍🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Hello! I didn't know if this meant that you wanted another snippet from a WIP, but this is from my Army of the Night AU (Dracula/Castlevania-inspired, except Napo plays the role of "Dracula" instead of Vlad) ^^ I think I want to write this one with separate "routes" for each of the three suitors.

But basically one of the reasons I made this AU was because I became obsessed with the idea of Napoleon having long hair XD (Jean and Mozart have different hairstyles too)

I wrote this as a reader-insert, but I do intend for the heroine to be Mitsuki, so I may change it to third or first person in the final version.

Suitors: Napoleon, Jean, Mozart Content warning: None AU: Army of the Night

Napoleon. That's his name. He's not the one who gave it to you though.

"How do you know that's his name?" You asked Mozart.

Mozart was organizing his sheet music into several stacks as he sat cross-legged on the floor of his assigned room. It took some convincing for him to let you in in the first place. Though if you were being honest, you were still largely uninvited. You'd watched him diligently and carefully clean the floor before laying his sheet music down on top of it very carefully.

You'd asked him why he doesn't just use the bed or desk, but he didn't an answer for that never came. He does answer this question though.

"Because Jean told me."

"Who's Jean?" You tried to remember if this Jean had been mentioned at any point before today. Other than the two men who had received you and Mozart the day prior, there didn't seem to be anyone else, not even a servant, in this massive castle.

Mozart paused to give you a look of sheer incredulity. "Who's Jean? Did you really come here without knowing either of their names?"

You conjure up the mental image of the tall, brooding man with the eyepatch. "You're friends already?"

"We exchanged less than fifty words, I highly doubt that meets the requirements for being friends."

You tried to keep from rolling your eyes. "Do you always talk like that?"

"Tersely and economically? I make it a habit."

"It makes you rather slappable if I'm being honest."

Mozart gave you another unamused look. "Then it's good nobody asked for your honesty."

Your exchange fell away into silence and you wondered if that brush of pink across his cheeks had been there a moment ago.

As the morning turned into afternoon, you were finally flagged down by Jean on your way back to your room.

"You and Mozart are to take your afternoon meal in the main dining room."

You wanted to make a smart comment about the fact that he'd conveniently forgotten to call you two down for breakfast or bring anything up to you for that matter, but something about this jean made you bite your tongue.

"Will Napoleon be joining us?"

The weight of his expression shifted in an instant. You were overcome with a nauseating feeling that you were talking to a ghost, that the conversation wasn't actually happening.

Then Jean opened his shapely lips. Only to sigh and close them again. Without another word he turned and walked off down the corridor.

You watched after Jean long after he'd disappeared, unable to work through or figure out the strange man. Mozart seemed to be onto something about Jean's reticence.

"Maybe he's just not used to talking to people..." Deciding to spend no further thought on the matter, you reached for the doorknob to your room.

---

Jean shut the door behind him as he entered Napoleon's study.

Napoleon continued writing. "Did you invite them to lunch?"

"Why are you making me do these chores for you?"

Napoleon looked up from his documents. He tucked his long bangs aside and over his shoulder as he sat up in his chair. "Jean."

"Napoleon." Jean's glare could make flowers wilt. Napoleon had grown used to it, but every so often he'd feel the bitter edge of it.

"I think it's better that you approach them, Jean. If I did… I think...no, I know I would… "

"Scare her? Drive her off?" Jean sounded unusually agitated.

The sky beyond the windows to his study was cloudless and warm with the first days of summer. The kind of perfect day before a storm.

The events from this morning had prevented them from being present for breakfast.

Napoleon's expression hardened. "I think maybe we should call for him."

"No," Jean said. "Absolutely not."

"Jean, it's been years."

"You know how I feel about that man. I will not entertain his presence."

Napoleon let Jean size him up for argument, knowing full-well that when Jean was determined that he had it in him to debate to the ends of the earth. It reminded Napoleon of simpler times, when debates were just self-serving show-off-ism between good friends.

"Tell me, then," Napoleon said, half-rebuke, half-plea. "How do you want me to do things?"

Jean finally sighed and then took his spot beside Napoleon's window, in the shadows where he felt most at-home. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked back at the door into the office.

"You need to be honest with her eventually." His answer was quiet, and something seemed off about the way he delivered his words, as if there was something else he wanted to say.

"I wasn't planning on keeping the truth from her forever."

"I think you were."

Napoleon scoffed. "You don't hold back."

Jean cracked a faint smile. "Have I ever?"

Napoleon smiled in return and returned to his papers. "I don't suppose you have, no."

#queengiuliettafirstlady #ask box #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp jean #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp mitsuki #atelier writes ikeseries #atelier's infinite wips #[AU] Army of the Night

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laequiem · 4 years ago

Text

Queen of Nobody [ONESHOT]

/ Cardan has been teasing Jude for a week, and she decided to get her revenge. Sub!Cardan, Dom!Jude, PWP.

Fandom: The Folk of the Air

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 1,769

His gaze was wild with restraint as I sat facing him and grabbed the soap. While he did not move, I could see his tail whipping from left to right, a cat waiting to pounce. I made a show of washing myself, scrubbing dirt and sweat from my body. I was very aware of his intense stare, the way he grasped the sides of the tub until his knuckles were white.

“Jude…” he whined.

“You’ve been so eager to tease me this week. Isn’t this fair, husband?”

Read it on ao3

For the last week, we barely had time to ourselves. I attended Oak’s birthday party last weekend, which Cardan had to skip on to deal with a visit from Queen Nicasia. The rest of the week was filled with the usual: revels, diplomatic dinners, boring meetings... As always, we sat on opposite sides of the table at dinner. During our meetings with the Living Council, we kept our façades: the irreverent king and his fierce queen, never looking like they enjoyed each other’s presence. Our sleeping schedule was staggered. I crashed first, tired from my training and stressful days, and Cardan would join me a few hours later, wasted after entertaining our people at the night’s revel.

Day by day, it was getting harder to slip out of his arms when I woke up to train. Not only did I miss the warmth of his body as I changed out of my night clothes, but I missed the… intimacy. He had done his best to tease me all week. His tail trailing up the side of my leg as we pretended to ignore each other at revels. A hand brushing my hair when he walked past me. On days when he had more to drink, he would risk more public displays of affection; coming up behind me and tugging me to him as he kissed the nape of my neck.

I met with the Ghost and trained harder than usual, trying to get rid of this tension building in me.

It did not help.

When I got back to the room to bathe, I was surprised to find Cardan lounging in the bath, eating from a bunch of grapes. As I drank the sight of him in, I realized he meant for me to find him here. Everything about the picture before me seemed deliberate. The bathwater, sprinkled with golden petals, was milky white, hiding the lower half of his body. He had kept most of his jewelry on, I noted, as my gaze went up his body. Even his crown, tilted over his damp curls. His makeup was perfect, which makes me think that it wasn’t leftover from yesterday - he actually did his makeup before getting in the bath.

His grin widened as I stood there just gawking at him. I had to say something. Not let him see how much I want him.

“How surprising to see you here, Your Infernal Majesty. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I’m exactly where I want to be. I cancelled the meeting.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “What reason did you give, this time? Hangover?”

“Something like that.”

I sat on a low stone bench and started undoing the lace of my boots. When I tugged off the second one, I looked up to find Cardan staring at me. I smirked, then turned my back to him. Bending way more than necessary, I removed my leggings. I heard him inhale sharply as I got back up. I unbuckled the strap holding my knife to my thigh and let it fall on the floor, though I doubt he would mind if I kept it.

“How convenient that you’re here exactly when I come back to bathe myself,” I say as I turn around to face him.

I kept eye contact as I started slowly undoing the laces of my tunic, then tossed it over my head. I saw him straighten and inch forward a little as he drank in the sight of me in my mortal underwear: a dusty pink lace bra that left little to the imagination, and a white lacy thong. Not the worst combination, but definitely not matching.

“A lucky coincidence,” he whispered. I wondered how he could justify this not being a complete lie. If he said it, he must believe it to be true in some way.

I slipped one arm behind my back and easily unclasped my bra. I saw his throat bob as I slowly, so slowly, removed my bra, then my panties, until I was bare before him. He kept staring as I walked towards him and joined him in the bath. The royal bath was more close to the jacuzzis we have in the mortal world. It’s a large tub with benches, enough space for a king and a few consorts.

“Jude…” he whined.

“You’ve been so eager to tease me this week. Isn’t this fair, husband?” I chuckled. He snarled.

I put down the soap and crossed the distance between us. I sat on his lap, facing him, his erection pressing hard against my aching core. His hands were instantly in my hair, pulling it while still pushing my head towards his as he claimed my lips with his own. His tongue explored my mouth and I could feel my heart thundering in my chest. It always felt so right with him.

“I missed this, my cruel queen,” Cardan whispers as he broke the kiss to nip at my neck. “I miss you.”

I could not find words, so I just hummed in response. It was enough, he understood. He always had. Suddenly, he turns us around and lifts me to the cold lip of the tub and parts my legs.

Just as I thought he had snapped and would take me right there, he ran one of his fingers through my folds. Once. Twice. He teased the entrance, but quickly removed his finger. He cussed when he saw the slickness already on his finger, then brought it to his mouth and sucked on it. “I missed your taste.”

Then, he lowered himself and flicked my clit with his tongue, and I couldn’t help moaning his name. I felt him grin against me as his tongue explored my folds. I grabbed his hair and pushed him into me, grinding against his face as he sucked on my bundle of nerves. That wicked mouth of his worked me, prodding and licking and sucking in a steady pace, until I was close to the edge. And as I pressed his face harder into me, he brought two fingers to my entrance and pushed into me, curling exactly in that spot where I wanted him. I went over the edge, twitching and screaming his name through my orgasm, clinging to his hair as if it was a lifeline.

As I came down from my high, I let go of his hair and let my head fall down against the cool wall behind me. As I caught my breath, he got up to kiss me slowly, gently.

It might be the orgasm making me vulnerable, but I couldn’t stop myself. “I missed you too, Cardan.”

He kissed me again, then got out of the bath, offering me a hand to stand as well. I saw him reaching for his robe, but I caught his arm.

“Who said we were done?”

Surprise shone on his beautiful face, then that amused grin. “My mistake, my Queen.”

I traced a finger down his torso, to his length and gently poked it. “Get on the bed.”

“Are you commanding me?” I couldn’t command him anymore, not with magic at least.

“Yes.”

He backed up to the bed and laid on his back, one arm behind his head, waiting. Smug. I approached slowly, hoping I looked like a predator approaching a prey.

“While you were busy… teasing me last week, I thought of ways to pay you back in kind.”

He was biting his bottom lip, staring at me intently. I got on the bed on top of him.

“I hope you will find me merciful,” I said as I tried to give him the most wicked grin I could muster.

From above him, I could see how his makeup had smudged, his hair going in all directions. He looked like a mess. A glorious, pinned down, submissive mess. I felt heat pool in my core at the thought. I lowered my face to his and kissed him fiercely, quickly. I pulled his bottom lip with my teeth. I kissed my way down his neck, his chest, leaving a trail of bruised marks I know he loves. I pulled on the jewelry on one of his nipples with my teeth, pinching the other with my fingers. I felt him twitch against my belly.

I continued making my way down his torso, leaving a particularly nasty love bite on his ribs, until I reached his cock. I looked up to see him staring at me in anticipation, still trying to look cocky through his long lashes. I traced a finger up the length of him, while my other hand cupped his testicles.

“Jude, please…”

Such a whiny child. I took him in my hand and he moaned as I licked the tip slowly. I started moving my hand around him, watching as the precum built up at his tip.

Cardan might have the expertise, but he had been my only lover, and I knew how to please him. I ran my index finger through the precum, coating the pad of my finger.

I looked up at him and grinned. “I wonder if I ever did this to you when you fantasized about me.”

He screamed my name as my finger entered him. Slowly, I moved my finger in and out of him as I took his cock in my mouth. My finger worked gently into him, my other hand moving up and down his length in time with my mouth. When he lowered his hand to tangle in my hair, I crooked my finger up to probe at his sweet spot. His grasp tightened on my hair, and I increased my pace.

As I felt him get close, I continued my ministrations with my finger but removed my mouth from him and sat back. I watched as he spent on himself, his head thrown back, moaning my name.

Once he was done, I laid next to him and kissed him tenderly.

Cardan put a hand on my cheek. “You wicked thing.”

I smiled at him. “I love you, Cardan.”

He put an arm around me, bringing me closer to him, and pressed a kiss to my temple. “I love you, too.”

#the folk of the air #tfota #cardan #cardan greenbriar #holly black #jude duarte #jurdan #judecardan #the cruel prince #the wicked king #queen of nothing #fanfic #smut #folk of the air #pierced nips cardy g

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something-fanfiction-ie · 5 years ago

Text

I Thought I Dreamed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Dismembered body parts, mentions of blood, and that’s about it??

A/N: HOLY SHIT GUYS ITS FINISHED. Oh my goodness that was hard, I don’t understand why. I still hardcore hate it, but I love you guys too much to leave you hanging. So here is part two to Dreams. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for sticking around through my terrible writer blocks.

...

[ Part One ]

“You’re sure it isn’t just a concussion?” Your fiancé says, his voice cracking with nerves. The bathroom tile of your hotel room is cool beneath your legs, Spencer sits directly across from you with your feet in his lap and his fingers tracing worried patterns across your shins.

Above your head on the bathroom counter, is a pregnancy test that still has three more minutes to come up with a yes or no answer to the question you were pretty sure you already knew the answer to. Balanced in your lap is a book about dream analysis that you’d picked up on the way to the hotel tonight.

“I had a dream, Spence. This books says that nearly everything about my dream pointed to me being pregnant.” His eyes narrow, one hand reaching out to flip through the pages you’ve tagged with sticky bookmarks. Your soon to be husband is a book fanatic, you’d learned early on that dog-eared pages were the antichrist of all book lovers everywhere.

“If you are pregnant, I can assure you that the dream was just your subconscious telling you what it had already pieced together before your conscious mind.” The clock outside the bathroom door ticks slowly. You think back to the little boy in your dream, and as scary as having two children so close together in age may be, you can’t help but be a little excited at the thought of a baby Spencer in the world.

“You don’t believe in dream analysis, so your opinion on the matter is biased.”

“Arguably, every opinion is biased. No one person can be one-hundred percent objective no matter the circumstances.” He’d have Spencer’s eyes, Graeson does already and she’s not even half a year old. Was it wrong of you to hope that all your children with Spencer would look and be exactly like him? Hopefully, in terms of intelligence, they would both be carbon copies of their father.

The tears that come to your eyes surprise you when you think about him taking the kids to a museum, holding your son in his arms and one of his fingers wrapped in your daughter’s grasp as he explains every artifact and display. Hastily, you reach up to wipe at the streams of water that wet your cheeks. Spencer sets the book aside, leaning forward worriedly.

Ashamed of your sudden mood swing, another blatant sign that you could be pregnant, you avoid eye contact by staring at the clock.

“Hey,” his voice is gentle, his hands reaching out to smooth down the sides of your arms, “Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” Your nose crinkles as you try to bite back the next onslaught of tears, hoping the last minute will go by fast. When you finally meet his gaze, the puddles of emotion that collected in your eyes spill over once again.

“You’ll take them to museums, right? You’ll make sure our kids aren’t dumb, right?” You don’t know why it’s so important to you, but the helplessness you feel is all too familiar as you recall a similar moment from your previous pregnancy.

“(Y/N). Breathe. Calm down.” You look up at your boyfriend from the bathtub, feeling not unlike a beached whale with your oversized stomach poking over the surface of the water surrounding you. The sides of the tub dig into your fingers as you grip the edges so tightly that your knuckles turn white.

“I can’t calm down, Spencer! I don’t have enough time. I’m not prepared. If I’m not prepared now then who is to say I’m even supposed to be a mother? What if I completely screw our kid up? I don’t-” The air in your lungs doesn’t feel like enough and it feels like all too much at the same time. You’ve never felt like this before, especially not in the middle of a relaxing bath.

Slowly, Spencer reaches into the tub and pulls the stopper out of the bottom. With his other hand, he helps to pull you to your feet and wrap you in a soft, pink towel. He keeps making shushing noises like it’s going to help the overwhelming anxiety of becoming a new parent and, as much as you love him, it makes you want to scream.

But just before you give into your urges, he steps in front of you and lowers himself so that you don’t have to look up to meet his eyes. Either one of his hands come up to cradle your cheeks, you wonder if he notices the weight you’ve gained there since you started nearing your due date.

“You won’t screw our kid up. We will, together.” And you can’t help but let the laughter bubble out of your chest as you lean into him, letting his arms wrap around you as you lay your soaking wet head over his heart.

“We will, together.” He says again, reaching up to wipe a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. When he closes the distance to press a kiss to your forehead, causing you to close your eyes and force a deep breathe in through your nose, he plucks the test from the counter.

“Spencer! I thought this was a together thing!” You jump to your feet, reaching for the test that he has hanging over your head just out of reach.

“It is babe, but you have the advantage of knowing before me when it comes to these things and I just really want to know first one time.” You whine in protest, trying to determine the results on the small pink stick by profiling his body language.

His hand still up in the air, he tilts the small window toward his face. Both eyebrows go up, but his expression stays emotionless otherwise. Not even a muscle in his cheeks twitch. He’s way too good at hiding things when he wants to.

“Spencer.” You warn in your best imitation of Hotch’s commanding voice, stretching back up on your toes, your fingertips brush the plastic siding before he wraps his free arm around your back and pulls you to his chest. His kisses are like soft butterfly wings against your cheeks, eyelids, chin, forehead, and eventually lips.

In the two years you’ve been with Spencer, there have been all kinds of kisses. Kisses of burning passion and simmering anger, kisses of a deep and slow love, kisses of overwhelming joy and uncontrollable relief, but it’s this kind of kiss you’ve only ever felt once before.

The hand holding the test comes down to cradle your face, a thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. It reminds you of the way an art enthusiast might reach out to touch a painting or sculpture in awe, his lips moving against your own like you were a Goddess that he was praying to with complete faith and devotion.

When he finally broke away, his eyelashes damp with happy tears (and maybe a few scared tears), the facade is shattered and you can read his face like an open book.

“You’re getting really good at that mom voice for someone with a five month old.” He teased.

“And one on the way?” You have to make sure, you want to hear it come from his lips. Screw the test.

“Did you dream it was a boy, because I think it would be really cool if we had a boy this time.” You laugh into his lips, throwing both arms around his neck and bringing him down to your level. The curls that sway at his shoulder brush against the crooks of your elbows before you tangle your fingers into his hair.

And then, just like the horny teenagers you two definitely were around each other, he bends down and swoops you into his arms. The high pitched squealing laugh that bubbled between both of your lips came from you as he started to turn back to the hotel room.

“Now I’m really gonna have to make up for lost time while I can.” He teases, turning sideways so your feet and head don’t hit the doorframe.

The next day, back on the case of the dead girls with missing hands, the team notices the different energy between you. Like the way Spencer’s mouth opens in protest when Hotch suggests you accompany Morgan to the house of a possible suspect. You glare daggers at him from the door, a silent conversation flying between you before he finally closes his mouth and sinks into his seat. It did not go unnoticed by every other person in the room.

Or the day after that, when you offer to go get coffee for everyone instead of letting them drink nasty precinct coffee. (Something you used to do a lot when you’d been pregnant with Graeson and the places you went didn’t have decaf.)

The biggest tip off is the passing of peppermints between you and Spencer, the young doctor having somehow found the time to go to a convenience store and buy a bulk sized bag of the red and white candies to help with your nausea. The bag crinkles when he reaches into his satchel every so often.

Despite the fact that they all catch on pretty quickly, nobody says anything. They figure that you’ll tell them when you’re ready. Instead they focus on the case, which had been your hope the whole time.

You’re near the end of the investigation at this point, sucking on a peppermint and racing for one of the two addresses that Garcia had sent to your phones. Just this morning, another body had been found. His fuse was getting smaller as the days had passed and the investigation crawled at an unusually slow pace, meaning you were cutting it close to the wire if you wanted to save whatever poor girl had unknowingly incurred this man’s wrath.

With you, on the way to the workplace of a Ryan Christopher, is JJ, Hotch, and Prentiss. Rossi, Morgan, and Reid have their own car headed for his home. You’re in the backseat, holding onto your stomach and the edge of the leather bench seat as Hotch races through traffic. Garcia is explaining her findings over the speakerphone, you can hear Morgan and Reid interjecting every so often with their own thoughts and comments.

It isn’t until the SUV that you’ve been sliding around in finally bumps into the parking lot outside of a carpentry workshop that Hotch ends the call. The boys on one of the other two ends of the line say their own salutations, also approaching the unsub’s home.

“Be careful!” Spencer shouts to you over everyone. It’s really cute. You would dwell on it more, but given the fact that you were about to walk into a possible altercation with an unsub, you decided that staying sharp and focused was the way to go.

Quickly, all three FBI Agents slip out of the car, clustering together long enough to come up with a game plan. You rush for the back door, JJ gets the side, and Hotch readies himself at the front. It isn’t until every room in the workshop is clear that a little tension leaves your shoulders.

It’s obvious that he’s been here though, with giant pools of blood dried onto a workbench in one of the rooms. And if you weren’t sure of this man’s guilt before, then the small freezer full of hands that is bolted shut is enough to convince you otherwise.

“What is the point in bolting something shut if you have bolt cutters lying in the same room?” JJ comments, tossing her pale gold pony over her shoulder before letting the tool settle against the strap of her Kevlar.

You turn away from the freezer to try and quell the rolling in your stomach.

“I’m going to call Morgan to see if they have anything.” At this point, they should have cleared the house or arrested him, making you feel comfortable enough to pull out your phone and dial Derek’s number. He answers on the second ring, his tone of voice telling you everything that you need to know.

“Hey Mamacita, I’m gonna go ahead and assume he’s not over there?” The rest of the tension that you had been unconsciously holding in your chest leaves with the breath of relief that deflates your lungs. You shake your head, walking away from the freezer of hands to tell him everything you’d found in the ten minutes you’d been inside the workshop.

“That’s just a little gross,” Morgan comments. “Hey Spencer- Spencer!” His voice goes up an octave, booming through the speaker and reverberating in your ear.

“Morgan?! Morgan, what’s wrong?!” The sound of the phone clattering to the floor and a single gunshot is the only response you receive before you’re racing back outside.

The tires of the SUV screech against the asphalt outside Ryan Christopher’s home. Your heart leaped out of your chest with the wild swing of the vehicle underneath you. Ambulances, SUVs, and police cruisers scatter the road and lawn in front of you, several faces lifting to find the source of the sound.

“(Y/N)!” JJ cried, white knuckling the arm of her seat and the ‘Oh Shit’ handle above her head. The car was barely in park when you fumbled for the latch of your seatbelt, kicking the door open and rushing into the hordes of first responders.

You should have never agreed to let them separate you from each other. That was the only thing you could think the moment you heard Morgan cry your fiancé’s name over the phone.

“Spencer?!” You pushed past a couple of local cops who shot you dirty looks when you shoved your way between them. Your eyes couldn’t take in all the details around you fast enough, all you could focus on was finding the top of a curly brown head of hair. Rossi was the first to come up to you, grabbing you by the shoulders and meeting your eyes with a steady gaze.

“Don’t panic.” He said in the least reassuring manner humanly possible. You didn’t give him time to explain before you tore from his arms and ducked around him.

Ambulance. He would be in an ambulance. If he’s hurt that bad, you hope the ambulance has already left, but at the same time you need to see him. If you don’t you might actually vomit right here in the middle of everyone.

“SPENCER REID!” The sound came from your chest, booming over the clamor and bustle of everyone around you. More people stopped and stared as you stumbled toward the emergency vehicles parked at the other side of the mass of people. You didn’t care. The lack of response was setting you on edge.

Just before you could yell his name again, he suddenly appeared like a ghost might appear out of thin air. He certainly was as pale as a ghost, sitting at the end of an open ambulance with an ice pack gingerly held against the back of his head. One of his lanky arms was raised into the air, waving you over.

When you flew into his arms, burying your face into his chest and inhaling his familiar scent of coffee and laundry soap, he grunted a little in pain.

“Careful, I’m not broke but I’m definitely sore.” You loosened your grip from around his ribs, leaning back and beginning an assessment of his limbs and appendages. Everything was, thankfully, in its rightful place, but cuts and freshly forming bruises were littered all over his arms and face.

“We weren’t even separated an hour and this is how I come back to find you? Do you have no concern for my nerves? My sanity?!” Your voice is shrill with residual panic, your fingers gripping onto the back of his shirt so that they wouldn’t shake. Slowly, Spencer lowers the ice pack to the ambulance flooring before looping his arm around the tops of your shoulders. He doesn’t say anything, letting you ramble away the hysteria as he presses his lips to the crown of your head.

“You can’t ever get hurt, Spencer. We have a baby. We have two babies, actually. Stress is bad for pregnant women, you can’t put me under this kind of stress, I just, how could you be so careless? What even happened? You know what, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I’m so mad at you right now, Spencer Reid. Just you wait until I’m not consumed with relief that you’re not dead, I might kill you myself.”

The tears wetting your cheeks betray your words, the rant loosing any of its sting as your voice cracks through it.

Putting his hands on either side of your face, he lifts your head up until you’re staring into those eyes you love so much that it actually rips your heart into a thousand tiny pieces every time you think about it.

“Breathe. Didn’t you just say stress isn’t good for the baby?” You want to punch him in the mouth and kiss him senseless at the same time, narrowing your eyes and fighting the smile that Spencer can already see twisting the edges of your lips.

“If you ever do that again-” You start to say, trying and failing to shake away the nightmarish possibilities you’d conjured up in your head on the twenty minute drive from Ryan’s workshop. Spencer smothers your rant into his chest when he folds you back into his arms, cradling the back of your head in one of his large hands.

“I will be more considerate of your nerves going forward, Mrs. Bennet.” He teases. You playfully swat at his back before finally letting his embrace settle over you with it’s usual calming affect.

…

“So are we allowed to talk about how you’re pregnant again?” JJ teases from the front of the elevator, unable to contain her own excitement when she notices the way you and Spencer have your heads leaned together in secret near the back.

Your head pops up, nearly bumping against your fiancée’s with the speed in which move to look at JJ. A cursory sweep across the faces of the rest of the team tells you that JJ isn’t the only one who had connected the dots.

“I hate working with profilers.” You groan, thankful for the ding that signals the opening doors. The sight of the BAU is very much welcome, calling to your fatigued limbs the way a siren might call to a pirate ship. This is your last stop before your bed. Your mother always babysat Graeson in your own home, which made it so much easier when you came back late and you weren’t in the mood to stop by her house at one or two o’clock in the morning to pick up your daughter.

“Hey, don’t get mad at us because you and pretty boy are terrible at keeping secrets.” Morgan teases, elbowing Spencer on his way out of the cramped elevator.

“And using contraceptive, apparently.” Prentiss comments as she goes about shuffling papers and files between bags on her desk. You send her a teasing glare, only letting her slide when she pulls you in for a congratulatory hug.

After she lets go, everyone files in one by one for their own congratulations, patting Spencer on the back (lightly, he has a minor concussion and some serious bruises) and squeezing you into excited hugs. Once Rossi pulls away with a teasing remark about how you find the time for sex between cases and a five month old baby, you pick up your things.

“Ready to go home?” Spencer smiles from his desk, gathering his own things into his arms before making his way over to you.

“I’ve been ready for hours.” You sigh, making your way back to the elevator. Someone shouts a last minute congratulations to you before you get to the clear doors. The sound of hurried heels clicking against the floor stops you in your tracks.

Somehow, in all the exhaustion and all the chaos, you’d forgotten Garcia.

“YOU’RE WHAT?”

#criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #criminal mind imagine #spencer reid angst #spence reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert

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anthonyed · 4 years ago

Note

stevetony + no. 99 (“I fell in love with you, not them.”)? only if you want to, of course. no pressure! :)

ive said this before: i LOVED writing this. hopefully you like cats ♡

-//-

Tony says it started like this:

One afternoon, Tony barged into Pepper’s office because he conveniently forgot how to knock and caught her rolling a miniature lint roller up her suit sleeve.

She startled with her high pitched, “Oh my god, Tony!” But, Tony was too fascinated by the lint roller that he kept advancing with a singular focus.

“What is that?”

Pepper bristled, “It’s a lint roller. Why are you here? I told you I don’t want to see you for at least four hours.”

Oh. Right. She was still upset about something Tony did during the board meeting. Menial stuff, unimportant, anyway -

“I know what it is, what I meant is, why are you using that in here?”

At this point, he’s close enough to catch the very fine blonde hair stuck on the roller. “Are you trying to bury the evidence of your boyfriend, Miss Potts? Because while that is very thoughtful, I have a feeling he’d be -,”

“It’s not a boyfriend,” Pepper rolled her eyes. “With you as my boss I don’t have such time -,”

Tony on the other hand, while Pepper was talking, snagged the roller from her hand, “This is - This is not - Ah CHO!”

Pepper winced.

Tony’s jaw dropped.

“Miss Potts,” he asked, deadly calm. “I thought you read and signed all the clauses when you agreed to be my personal assistant.”

“I did, Mr Stark.” Pepper's lips thinned.

Tony dropped the roller on her table; the miniature thing completing two circles before stopping in front of her.

“Then why are there cat hair all over you?”

Despite what Tony likes to think, according to Pepper it started like this:

"Who is that?" Tony asked, low whisper, eyes like hawk fixed on the blonde man with a pink cap -

"Oh!" Pepper exclaimed, leaning sideways and waving to catch the guy's attention. "That would be my lunch."

From the cat cafe, Pepper didn't say. Instead, she hurried out of the room to meet the delivery staff before he could enter; didn't want to risk putting the man responsible for her paycheck in close contact with the one thing he's allergic to: cats' fur.

Now, Pepper doesn't know exactly what Tony thought that day, but when she reentered the room after shoving a 20 dollars bill into the guy's hand, she found Tony to be in some kind of… stupor.

She stopped where she stepped in. The door closed behind her and she asked, "Tony?"

Tony startled. "Is that your boyfriend?"

"What? No!"

"Is he single?"

"Tony -,"

"Who is he?"

Pepper paused. Then she promptly decided to play hard - because secretly she is a menace and Tony is right. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Fast forward the next day; she saw Happy exiting her beloved cat cafe and entering the limo he drives to drop Tony off at work.

She didn't even hesitate; she pulled open the passenger door and slid into the empty seat.

"Fancy seeing you here," she cocked her head, smiling syrupy sweet.

Tony Stark stared wide eyed, like he'd been caught red-handed with a cookie jar.

"Ah HAH!" Pepper pointed at him.

No matter how much Tony denied: "It is not what you think it is!", don't believe him.

It was exactly what it was. In fact, that was how it started.

But Steve never talked to Pepper as much as he talked to Tony. So he obviously thought what Tony claims is right.

That the reason the wildly famous Tony Stark started frequenting Bucky's cat cafe is because he loves cats, and the moment he learned his PA had been hiding this cafe’s existence from him, he bribed her with fancy shoes to get the address.

Happy would say, bullshit.

But as it is, Happy works for Tony and Tony bribes him with a free sandwich of the day every time they visit the cafe to keep his trap shut.

(What can Happy do in the face of excellent sandwiches and delicious Caramel Macchiato? They do say it’s hard to get the caramel swirls on top of the whipped cream right, and whoever makes his drink does it perfectly each time. So at least for the love of that talent, Happy keeps his mouth shut.)

So, when Bucky taps the caramel bottle on the counter and grumbles, “Are you gonna ever ask him out?” - Steve blushes the deepest shade of pink and pries his eyes away from Tony.

“Why would I ever do that?” He busies himself with… nothing.

“Uh, I don’t know Stevie, maybe the fact that he keeps coming back here asking for this vile shit," he pauses to press the cap delicately over the large Caramel Macchiato. "Or that he’s giving you pathetic googly eyes all the time?”

Bucky glares at Steve then he directs that glare at the drink he loathes making the most with all the venom in the world.

“Wherever he’s putting this cursed thing into," he shoves it at Steve. “Here. Go call for your knight in… whatever the fuck he’s wearing.”

Steve turns to look at where Tony’s sitting; in the far left corner in the back of the cafe; in his pinstripe suit and daisy dotted tie paired with white, also daisy dotted, sneakers and a pair of orange-tinted glasses.

Alpine - Bucky's white Turkish Angora - sits pristinely on the table in front of Tony looking like she’s giving him a lecture on something - like father, like daughter - while Tony stares right back at her challengingly.

Liho, who’s Natasha’s favourite kitten (no matter how fervently Natasha denies having a favourite at all) is lounging next to Tony, tail draped lazily over his lap. Mrs Berry in all her tortoiseshell glory, is licking her butt on Tony’s left. Grey Mr Goose is sniffing Tony’s shoes and rubbing up his shin.

Behind the cash-counter, Steve sighs like the hopeless man he is. Bucky’s bemused gaze bores into him steadily.

Steve bristles, “I don’t see what’s wrong with what he’s wearing.” Because as much as Bucky’s wrong about Tony being interested in Steve in any way, he is right in assuming that Steve is.

As a matter of fact, he’s balancing precariously between sanity and lovesick insanity and with every visit from Tony, he’s tipping dangerously towards the latter. Fantastic.

“Idiot,” Bucky snorts, turning to the kitchen. "At least ask him to change the fucking order. For fucks’ sake.”

Which leaves Steve alone with Tony, since it’s 8.30pm on a Tuesday and the cafe would never see a slower business hour than that.

Heaving out a heavy sigh, Steve puts the drink on a tray and checks his reflection on the microwave’s shiny surface - courtesy of Phil, their clean-freak coworker - before he moves.

It’s both scary and amazing how each time he makes his way to Tony, his heart would pitter patter and trip in its running behind his ribcage. So is the way he’d inhale sharply, lashes fluttering when they lock eyes and Tony smiles and -

Steve could just die right then and there.

The first time Steve talked to Tony; he vividly remembers it being a horrible day.

Everything had gone wrong from when the alarm went off that morning - A series of misfortunate events, and he’d just bribed Clint with a promise of dinner from his wallet in exchange for his extra shirt because an idiot on the freeway had driven through a puddle of rainwater soaking Steve dirty and wet.

Then, he’d stepped behind the cash counter for his turn at taking orders when a rich-looking asshole in a gaudy get up started yanking on Steve’s already frayed nerves. The man, with his stupid beard and flashy glasses rattled off what he’d probably thought an impossible order.

But Bucky was the barista for that hour and Steve had never come across an order Buck couldn’t whip up till this day. Right then though, he was calmly speckling cocoa dust on a mocha, letting Steve face their new customer who had evidently walked in to test their capability.

Unfortunately for all parties involved, it was just not Steve’s day.

“Do you want anything else?” He’d asked, after dotting pointedly on the cup.

Tony had leered at him, saying: “Maybe a little smile for the service,” and Steve fucking snapped.

“I’m sorry. But we don’t serve that for assholes.”

He could see Bucky freeze next to him. Tony, on the other hand, looked fully offended. “Excuse me?” he started, peering above his purple glasses, gearing up for a fight and Steve wasn’t going to back down either - putting the empty cup aside as he inhaled and squared up his shoulders.

But Bucky broke it off before it could even begin.

“Rogers, go make sure Barton is not ruining my sourdough,” he spoke up, flat toned, and he squeezed Steve’s arm warningly before offering his best smile to Tony. “I’m sorry, sir. We just ran out of cardamom so if you don’t mind excluding that from your order, I could whip it up for you just fine.”

The sudden professionalism was so jarring for both men that they each stuttered out an affirmative response and that was that.

Steve went into the kitchen, finished his shift, put an end to his awful day and he forgot all about the asshole customer. Until a week after when he returned.

“One caramel macchiato with perfected caramel swirl for Happy Hogan,” Steve places the tray in front of Tony.

Alpine hops down and leaves, bringing her gang with. Tony’s eyes trail after the number of swishing tails, as well as Steve’s.

“They really do like you,” Steve tells him, turning back to Tony with a teasing glint in his eyes; cheeks straining hard to keep a happy smile inside. "Nobody gets that much attention all at once."

Tony snorts, leaning forward in his seat, and he looks up from the rim of his glasses. "Pretty sure it's an intimidation tactic," he squints his eyes at Steve.

"Whatever for," Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck and he looks down at his feet before looking up at Tony. “Are you gonna stay here longer? I was wondering if I should make yours to go or to have here.”

“Oh,” Tony glances at the tray, “So that’s why my drink is not here then,” he grins at Steve.

“You didn’t even notice.”

“Too busy noticing you.”

Steve blinks, “What’s that?”

“To have here,” Tony declares loudly, his eyes flicker as if they’re hiding something, and his next words come out softer, “If you don’t mind having me here for long, that is.”

Steve’s pretty sure he’s blushing; at least his ears must be the shade of tomatoes in the Spring. At least. “No. I - Of course not.” Could have said, stay forever please but luckily for Steve even his self-deprecating tendency has mercy on him. “Shall we?” He signals.

Tony’s eyes go wide as a saucer. “You’re letting me watch you make it?” And there’s excitement in there, Steve could taste it, even if Tony is trying so hard to keep it contained.

“I mean, we’re not busy now,” he shrugs and the doorbell dings, seeing the only couple who was there out. “And we’re closing in fifteen minutes so…” Steve turns back to Tony, mouth stretching slowly into a smile, eyes twinkling and he could see Tony’s face wearing his reflection as he stands up.

“Lead the way, fine Sir.”

Changing opinions is not an easy thing to do; especially those cemented so strongly from first impressions.

Seeing Tony the second time immediately made Steve’s spine tense up. But he’s been on this job for a very long time and he knows how to keep feelings away from his profession. He looks Tony straight in the eyes and beamed at him like sunshine.

“Hello! Welcome to Purricano, what would you like to have today?”

Steve distinctly remembers Tony’s eyes going saucer shape wide that day; two rapid blinks and a slack jaw which required Steve’s arched eyebrows to work. (If you ask Tony, of course he’s going to deny that.)

“You’re smiling today,” he squinted. “Why are you smiling? Do I have something on my face?” His eyes flashed towards the nearest reflective surface and Steve swallowed a bubbling laugh.

“Except for your fashionable pink sunglasses, I assure you, there is nothing on your face, Mister,” (and your stupid goatee), Steve kept smiling creepily.

Tony’s eyes grew narrower, and he glanced over his shoulder once - making sure no one else was waiting in line - before leaning close to the counter. He beckoned at Steve with one elegant finger, and he hushed, “Do you really think it’s fashionable?”

And the first bubble of laughter escaped out of Steve’s chest that day.

Never stopped ever since.

Tony makes him happy. There’s no denying in that.

It’s probably why Bucky keeps pestering Steve to ask him out; because it’s been years since Steve last laughed. Genuinely, and this loud.

“Oh god,” he clutches his stomach, wiping tears from his eyes.

The horrible latte art Tony attempted stares back with ugly googly eyes when he looks down and he bursts into another fit of laughter.

He could feel one of the felines’ tail curling around his ankle curiously, and a pair of large green eyes peer up at him longingly with an accompanying pitiful meow.

“Not,” Steve tells her.

None of the cats are allowed on the counter; even Alpine doesn’t get the pass. But she likes to try the most out of them all. The rest are already settled for bedtime, and Steve briefly thanks his quick wit to flip the sign close on the front door before he starts showing Tony around.

He turns to him with aching cheeks, tingling skin but the remnant of his grin dies when he sees Tony’s face. Something else takes residence in his belly instead; wings flapping neurotically, lifting to fly away.

“What?” he asks, lashes fluttering, breath sticking like glue on the lining of his throat. Because Tony looks dazed, like he’d just witnessed something divine but got no vocabulary enough to describe what was that.

He shakes his head, inhale sounding sharp, and he tries to bury his words under a chuckle but Steve hears him this time. “You’re beautiful.”

Loud like a Church’s bell, echoing even after and Steve’s heart stutters in his chest. Hope, blossoms like Queen of the Night; rapid and shy. Would die with a single ‘no’ from Tony, would probably never bloom again after this, but the hope is heavy as well as pretty; pushes Steve to ask Tony, “Did you mean that?”

Tony’s eyes snap up and Steve could see the same hope growing in them. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, voice high with a nervous tremor and it comes out like a breathy bark. His shoulders come loose, all limbs as well, and he reaches out for Steve before he stops himself.

Can I? His eyes ask, and Steve takes a step forward. Of course; his gesture screams. Of course, you can.

Tony's hand touches his cheek and Steve thinks maybe this Queen of the night would live to see daylights.

He shudders, full body. Closes his eyes tight and wills those butterflies in his belly to calm down. He smells Tony before he hears him; spice and a spilled can of cinnamon from just now. "Shh," Tony tells him. "Shh," and Steve sighs into his palm.

His thumb drags a stripe under his eye, and Tony says, "God, Steve… Can't you see how bad I want you?"

The truth is no. Steve didn't see it. He shakes his head.

"Why'd you think I keep coming back," Tony asks, so close now that Steve swears he could hear the rumble in his chest even if their bodies are not touching. Yet.

Feeling somewhat more grounded, he guesses, "For the cats?"

And Tony laughs.

Not just a little but a full hearty laugh that makes him wheeze.

"Oh no," he splutters, trying to gather himself apiece while Steve's surprise slowly shifts into a scowl.

"No, no, no," he chants, reaching for Steve again, catching his face with two hands, cupping and Tony's so bright with joy when he presses their foreheads together.

"Steve, Steve, Steven," he breathes. "Honey, I can’t go near a cat without popping twenty antihistamines."

"I'm allergic to them."

"What?" Steve pulls back. More shocked than surprise now. "But -,"

"It's you," Tony cuts him off, pulling him back by his hips, and he butts his head into Steve’s breastbone. Buries his next words in there; "I fell in love with you, Rogers. Not them.”

And he sounds almost whiny but Steve can see now, why; can’t believe Tony’s been inhaling allergy medications to see Steve -

“Jesus Christ.” A little frustration seeps into Steve’s own voice as he buries his fingers into Tony’s hair. “I can’t believe you’re allergic to cats.”

A betrayed meow sounded from below and both of them look down to find Liho, gazing expectantly at Tony. “Meow,” she says again.

“Think you got some explaining to do,” Steve smirks, looking at Tony. As if on cue, Tony sneezes so hard that Liho jumps a foot in the air before scrambling away in fear.

“Oh uh,” he cups his mouth and nose, blinking at Steve, lost.

And Steve knows it’s bad to laugh, but he couldn’t help it. At least he saves himself with a smooth invite when he’d calmed down. “Wanna wait outside? Let me close the shop and we’ll…”

“Dinner?”

“Definitely.”

“Great!” Tony grins at him so prettily and Steve, with his heart fluttering in its cage, leans in and kisses him sweet.

#stony #stevetony #mine #prompts

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misc-headcanons · 4 years ago

Note

Sanji having a bit a depressed and kind of down in the dumps/insecure when his brothers try flirting with reader since they're always the loved and special ones and reader just looks at him tired "can i punch these losers" or something like that?

Sanji was already filled with dread at the thought of his s/o being anywhere near his brothers, but he knew from the second she had insisted to accompany him at Zou that there was no way in hell ____ was changing her mind. Even Bege and his men, who had strict orders to only take Sanji with him, eventually lost the battle of wills when ____ marched in front of Sanji and told them to either make space for an extra passenger or just shoot her in the face now, because that's the ONLY way they would get to leave with just Sanji. Bege was annoyed at getting crap from the Charlotte Family for this little change of plans, but...he had to admire this kid's guts to basically dare his men to shoot them in front of Sanji. He couldn't think of many loved ones who'd go that far without hesitation for their partner, except for his own wife Chiffon. And if you remind him of his Chiffon, you get one free pass to piss him off. As Sanji took ____'s hand and walked into the familiar cold walls of Germa's castle, he felt another creeping sense of dread as he thought about his brothers' reactions to seeing his s/o. Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji always enjoyed taking the things he loved most and either destroying them or taking them for themselves. He clenched his fist and squeezed his s/o's hand, and they turned to face him. "Hey, it's okay," ____ said gently, squeezing his hand back and smiling. "You're not going to face them alone this time. I'll be right here!" Sanji gave ____ a small half-smile, pushing down his creeping insecurity and fear as he looked at them. That's why it's not okay, he thought silently. His thoughts briefly drifted to the late nights on the Sunny with her, feeling her fingers run through his hair while she sleepily murmured praises to him (just because she knew how much he loved hearing those words of affirmation from his dear "princess"): "You're so brave", "You're so strong, I always know I can rely on you when I'm in danger…" Compared to his brothers, he was nothing. He couldn't even protect himself, much less the people he truly cared about and loved. The large doors creaked open, and the two of them entered the fortress. A timid young servant named Cosette, who seemed to recognize Sanji and welcomed him warmly, led the two of them to the throne room. ____ happily chatted with Cosette as they talked fondly about "the young Prince", and Cosette actually laughed out loud when ____ had described how lovestruck Sanji was when they'd first met--he'd swooned so hard that he'd fallen off the ship! When someone else had entered the throne room behind them--three "someones", actually--Cosette's smile quickly dropped and she immediately looked down at the floor. ____ looked over at the three men, immediately recognizing them as Sanji's biological relatives. They hadn't seemed to notice her, and instead circled around Sanji and Cosette like a group of sharks. "Well, well," the redheaded one teased, "Our little brother's finally back, with his tail between his legs." The green-haired one roughly clapped Sanji on the back, shoving him to the ground. "I'd say we missed you dearly, but...we all know that's a lie." ____ flinched, and Cosette's eyes widened in alarm; she knew ____ wanted to say something, or to defend Sanji. But she didn't know the Vinsmokes, and she didn't know that doing that would just make things worse. The blue-haired brother raised an eyebrow and waved Cosette away. "Shouldn't you be getting dinner ready with the rest of the staff? You're not slacking off, are you, Cosette?" His voice was soft but predatory, and Cosette trembled a bit as she quickly backed away. "N-no, Master Niji," she replied hastily. "I...I was…" ____ stepped forward to put herself in between Cosette and the blue-haired brother. "She was the one who brought us here," she said firmly. "She wasn't slacking off, she was doing her job and greeting us as guests." She clenched her jaw a bit and looked him in the eye--a difficult task when the person you're staring down is wearing sunglasses. When she made her presence known, the mood of the three brothers immediately changed and they forgot all about Sanji and Cosette (who took the opportunity to quietly make her way out of the room). The green-haired brother who'd knocked Sanji down stared at her with wide eyes and the beginnings of a nosebleed. "Woah, she's kind of uppity, but she's hot!" He pushed his way past Niji in an attempt to introduce himself. "Are you a new servant or something?" His gaze drifted lower on her body, and his eyes turned into hearts. "I can...ah... take your measurements for your uniform~" ____ raised her eyebrows and fought the urge to laugh at such a godawful attempt at flirting. "Wooow, are you like this with any woman within drooling distance," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Or am I just special?" Before he could respond, she turned away from the three of them and went to help Sanji up off of the floor. The red-haired brother blocked her path and turned her around to face the other way. "Oh, don't bother with him," Ichiji said with a slight purr to his voice that made ____'s skin crawl. "Servants usually deal with the trash we leave behind, but nobody should have to deal with...that." His hand on her shoulder traveled a bit lower down her arm. "I'm Ichiji, the oldest brother. You can call me 'Master Ichiji' for now, but when we're alone, I wouldn't mind you using something more affectionate. And you are?" ____ stared up at Ichiji, amazed at just how stomach-churning he and his brothers were within just a few seconds of meeting them. She always thought Sanji could be a bit much when it came to flirting, but compared to this...she was actually pining for the days when Sanji's flowery monologues and nosebleeds would annoy her. She rolled her eyes and squirmed out of his grasp. "I'm not interested," she snapped. "But you can also call me 'Sanji's girlfriend', if that's not 'affectionate' enough." Sanji failed to look up from the floor, as he felt a wave of anxiety fluttering in his chest, the shameful tears welling in his eyes, and the cold sweat covering his entire body. He hadn't heard their voices in years, and he'd gotten so much stronger, yet it had been so easy for them to push him around like nothing had changed. He had wanted to get up, to fight back and not leave ____ to face them alone, but...it was too much. Everything was too much. He was shaking, about to cry like a child from one push to the ground. Just being near them left him feeling like he couldn't breathe. When he finally managed to look up, all he could see was ____ kneeling down to help him up. "Hey," she said softly, "You okay?" He blinked up at her in awe, and for a moment the stifling, dizzying heat all around him seemed to fade a bit. When he saw Niji grab her arm and pull her towards him, it came rushing back ten times stronger. "You? With him!?" Niji and the other brothers snickered and laughed harshly. "I was gonna reprimand you for speaking so rudely to your betters, but...now I just want to help you. If I could feel emotions, I'd probably feel bad for you right now." He glanced at Sanji and smirked, seeing his weak younger "brother" close to tears, and then back to ____ as she tried to pull her hand away from his. "Look, a pretty thing like you shouldn't be with him. He's worthless, a good-for-nothing who's only getting a bride because it's convenient for our family. You should be with a real man." He put his other hand on ____'s waist, and Sanji's eyes burned with rage; he knew exactly what Niji was doing, trying to steal another precious part of his life just to spite him. He's right, a small, pitiful part of himself thought. They always get whatever they want, because they're stronger. They're "perfect". I should've known better than to let ____ come here. I'm not strong enough for her...I'm not strong enough for anyone. ____ flinched at the feeling of Niji's hand on her waist and glared at him with slitted eyes. Yonji snorted at her expression. "Careful Niji, I think you pissed her off," he teased. Ichiji crossed his arms and scowled at his younger brother. "Oi, you really think you're gonna take her for yourself? I'm the eldest, so she's mine," he snapped. "No fair," Yonji said, glaring at Ichiji. "Who cares who's older? I should get her since I'm the strongest." "You're joking," Niji said dryly. "Tell me you're joking, Yonji." Yonji gave Niji a cocky smirk and put his fists up as he faced his elder brother. "I'd be more than happy to prove it," he challenged. "C'mon. Whoever wins gets to keep her!" Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji all grinned at each other, eager to prove their strength with another fight. Niji set ____ up onto the throne room's meeting table and mockingly pinched her cheek. "Don't worry, this'll only take a few minutes," he said. "Just sit tight for a minute, and then I'll take you to our royal tailor to get fitted in something pretty." A slight bit of pink colored the visible parts of his cheeks. "You already look gorgeous, but I bet you'd look even better in something...blue." Ichiji barked a laugh and led his brothers outside. "Nah, she'll look great in red though," he replied cockily. As the two elder brothers playfully shoved each other while they walked out to fight outside, ____ could hear Yonji's boisterous voice outside the doors to the throne room. "Screw that; when I win, she's gonna wear my cape and nothing else!" ____ crinkled her nose in disgust and hopped off of the table to help Sanji up. When she saw the shaken look on his face, she immediately took him by the hand and sat him down in one of the nearby seats. There were some nights where he'd wake up in a panic, with that same look on his face after tossing and turning during a nightmare--a night of remembering his childhood here with them. She gently ran her thumb over his shaking fingers and tried to help him steady his breathing, just like she would if he had just woken up from a nightmare. "Sanji, honey, can you breathe with me? Just like that...in, out...in, out…" She slowly reached to wrap her arms around him and when he had finally started to breathe normally again, she sighed gently with relief and kissed his cheek. He bit the inside of his cheek, cursing his weakness and wishing ____ had fallen for someone stronger, someone better, who deserved her. After a few minutes of silence, ____ ran her fingers through his hair and sighed before kissing his cheek again. "I know this is an understatement," she muttered. She held him closer and smiled against his skin. "But...your brothers fucking suck." Sanji turned and stared up at her with surprise. He'd never heard anyone say that about them before. He was quiet for a moment, and then snorted a bit before nodding in agreement and wiping his face with his sleeve. "Um...yeah, that...that's an understatement," he said, his voice a bit thick and shaky. ____ continued to cuddle Sanji as they laughed quietly together. "I mean, seriously? All three of them are total shit. I can't believe they're related to you." Sanji's heart soared a bit at the way she'd said that and emphasized "you". They really weren't anything like him; and to her, that was actually a good thing. She imitated Yonji's voice. " 'I can...uhhh...take measurements for your uniform~' ". She shuddered and groaned with disgust. "Ugh, that Caribou guy was less slimy and he was literally made of mud." The two of them laughed again, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cosette's face peering at the two of them behind the slightly ajar door to the hallway. The maid's face was tearstained like Sanji's, but she was smiling at ____ from behind the door when she closed it and turned around to give them some privacy. She was glad that the young Prince had found someone to give him the love he deserved, after all these years.

#one piece #one piece scenario #one piece scenarios #sanji #vinsmoke brothers #black leg sanji #female s/o #mine #queue #Anonymous

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prince-toffee · 4 years ago

Text

Villains

Part Two

The room was empty and bare. The room was very plain, no paintings or pictures hung or framed, no personalised items, no trinkets or mementos. The space was devoid of any personality or warmth. This partially due to the fact that everything personal was moved out of the room, and also the fact that the person whom once occupied these living quarters wasn’t one for forming close personal attachments. Shadow Weaver sat on a beautiful ornate wooden chair at the centre of the sterile room. She watched the blank dark green wall as she took a long sip from her glass of red wine.

That room was once hers. When she officially aligned with The Horde, she was given her own bed chamber as she had to live in The Fright Zone as an unspoken rule. Where else would have she been accepted? She had no where else to go. She was pleased with what she was given, the room was quite large, she had a queen sized bed, her own side bathroom, with a toilet, shower, sink, and bath all included. The bath in particular became a favourite location, useful in relaxation after a long day of dealing with cadets that made her blood boil and her blood pressure rise. Over time she did personalise the room, add various scented shampoos and what not, some artistic and yet horrifying paintings, and a study with all her work - reports, cadet exams, notices, and request forms over which she lost her mind too many times.

Her quiet pleasant contemplation was cut short as Force-Captain Cobalt’s voice invaded the room through the data-pad which leaned against one of the wooden legs of the chair she sat on. The blue porcupine man cleared his throat, “Umm, Sha- uh, Lord Shadow Weaver.”

“Speak.”

“All your personal belongings have been moved to Lor- to Hordak’s old Sanctum. But there’s another emergence that requires your attention.” Weaver sighed, she responded by saying she would be there in a few minutes. She downed the glass of wine in seconds, it was a good year, shame she couldn’t have savoured the taste, she had saved that bottle for a victorious occasion. And she couldn’t have thought of a better occasion.

The witch just discarded the glass by simply throwing it away, it shattered on impact, of course. But the brand new leader didn’t care. Not anymore. She was in charge, no consequences, it felt so freeing. The scarred woman shifted her mask over her grey face and moved out. She did not admit to another soul the fact that she was ashamed of her physical appearance, she never betrayed a weakness, she was distant therefore safe. There was logic and reason to her outfit - a frightening mask to deflect any questions about her face, a high collar to hide her neck, and then a layered robe to allow no part of her scarred, wounded, burned body to be seen. She implemented the opposite tactic to Hordak, he choose to show some flesh, some key areas of his body that were healthy and strong to deflect any suspicion or conspiracy of him being otherwise. Anyone who saw Hordak, as rare as it was, they all thought the dark Lord was a modern Adonis. Nobody suspected he was in fact a sick frail man who was slowly falling apart.

Shadow Weaver knew about Hordak’s ‘sickness’, and vis versa. There was a deal between them, both knew each other’s weakness, and so they formed a partnership to support one another. Hordak had the Black Garnet in his possession after acquiring the Scorpion Hill Kingdom, and so he handed the magical artefact to Shadow Weaver, he knew the Garnet was useless in his hands, he had no knowledge therefore no ability to utilise the Garnet. But Shadow Weaver could. She was brought in as his Minister of Magicks to advice the Horde in the magical ways, how to defend against magic, and how to weaponise magic in offense.

The rune stone gave her sufficient life force for her to leech off of, never again was she hungry. And she wielded the awesome power of the elemental mineral. In return Shadow Weaver took the spotlight off of Hordak, the duty of truly commanding the Horde’s forces, leaving Hordak free to do... whatever he did. Weaver never knew what Hordak did in his ‘Sanctum’, all she ever managed to get out of him was the fact he was working on a secret ‘experiment’, and she knew that much was a slip up. It didn’t matter now anyhow, all of Hordak’s secrets were going to be hers and if not, then they don’t matter anyway.

She waltzed through the corridors and hallways of red and green metal, pipes, and cables, at a leisurely pace. Unlike Hordak, who’s heavy metallic footsteps always alerted the soldiers ahead of time in the corridor, Shadow Weaver made no sound, didn’t allow any trooper to get ready, they had no idea she was coming. She scared the hellfire out of everyone she passed. They always jumped in shock, straightened themselves out and stiffened. Weaver liked that.

The noise of double doors sliding open marked her entrance into the throne room, her throne room. Her commanders turned to her and bowed. She liked that too. “Speak.”

“Lord Weaver, while we were breaching Hordak’s Sanctum, which was harder than we thought it would be, a lot of booby traps, we got around a dozen treating wounds in the infirmary. But anyway when we got in we acquired all of his personal belongings mostly just tech. One of his personal data-pads gave off a ping, some sort of automatic notification. It was a signal sent from an outpost in the Northern Reach in the frozen wastes, apparently the computers there have detected some new First Ones tech.”

“Ah perfect! That’s exactly what we need!” Shadow Weaver heard the vent being kicked open, only then when she lifted her head up to the high ceiling did she see the short purple woman descend to her to the floor. This. of course, was Entrapta the Princess of Dryl. Shadow Weaver didn’t like her much, she was the one to whom Hordak was going to give the Black Garnet. They didn’t see, but her face soured as her arms folded. “Have you briefed her about the power grid?”

Cobalt sighed, “I was about to.” It seemed that the Princess had interjected herself into Horde matters and into the command structure. She swung around like she owned the place. And Hordak would’ve probably let her walk all over him too.

“Well, since I’m here already I’ll explain. The Fright Zone’s power grid, a surprising intricate system that transfers power all around The Fright Zone keeping everything running, over heated. Meaning it’s stopped working, coolant systems have failed and ruptured expelling scolding steam through the corridors, a powerful and dangerous feedback surge has been created leading to the destruction through explosion of the main power-generators. Multiple floors are on fire. In Layman’s terms: It’s bad.”

“We are not imbeciles, Princess, do not treat us as such. You are not in command here, so I would watch your tone with me! You are only here, but I permit it.” Weaver pointed her finger at the hovering woman.

Entrapta looked down at the grey finger of the sorceress and then turned around, “Mmm, no, I am here because I want to be.” She began to stride across the throne room using her hair. Shadow Weaver still didn’t know if the purple tentacle hair was a magical ability or a technological aspect. Either way she followed the Princess. With a simple wave of her hand she dismissed her Force-Captains, its not like they wanted to stay around her so Cobalt, Grizzlor, and Octavia left without any further convincing. The witch kept up with the Princess. She made no sound when she walked, but the purple woman somehow knew she was close enough behind her to hear her, “As I was saying, the power grid can’t hold the amount of power it transmits, so we need a strong conductor, maybe a regulator too. That’s why the signal from the Northern Reach is a mighty convenient occasion. First Ones tech is ideal for the job. My recommendation: Send an excursion to the outpost, excavate the tech, transport it back here and install it in, solving the issue.”

“I didn’t ask for your ‘recommendation’... but that is a decent solution.” They passed the throne and moved forward through a thin hallway of pipes, as they reached its end a door slide open. Past it they entered a sort of a corridor round-about, another door in front of them. The corridor curved around to multiple doors, opposite the doors were windows of one way glass looking over the landscape of The Fright Zone.

Shadow Weaver noted the burn marks and metallic plating torn and shredded, signs of damage caused by an explosion. The booby traps the Force-Captains spoke of. All disarmed, she hoped. The Sanctum doors opened, Entrapta entered first, Shadow Weaver followed close behind. Hordak’s Sanctum was a dimly lit tall box, computers all around it with data Entrapta couldn’t wait to get into. Various tech scattered around. To contrast all that were Shadow Weaver’s own belongings moved from her old room to her new one. “I like the paintings, good taste. I’ve got paintings too, back at home. But I prefer little cute big eyed kitties, rather than abstract horrific rorschach-like depictions of inner turmoil of anxieties. Hm, perhaps representing repressed and or traumatic memories. Interesting.”

Weaver raised a brow as she narrowed her eyes, “Uh huh. Thank you.” She was spot on. Her eyes could barely keep up with the Princess. She seemed very excited. She finally stopped dashing across the room madly and stood still at the centre of the room. Her pigtails split into multiple ends each tendril plugging into a different computer or any other data-holding devices, her hair fuzzed and the ends of each tendril lit up in a bright purple, on the boarder of being pink. The light moved inward towards her head in pulse-like motion. Weaver guessed, correctly, that Entrapta was downloading the information into herself.

“Oh, that’s fascinating.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure.” Before Shadow Weaver could ask any follow up questions from the corner of her eye she noticed a grey blur dashed across a higher scaffolding, accompanied by sounds of small footsteps scuttling about. She looked up to see a pair of small yellow luminous eyes.

It was Hordak’s tiny bat creature, Hordak seemed to have been close and appreciative of the creature. Whether it was a pet to him or like a child she did not know. All she knew was it was an annoying tattletale - spying, recording, and telling on people, completely loyal to Hordak in the way a child tells their parent on a sibling in return for candy, or chin scratches in this instance. The creature hissed. It clearly did not like Shadow Weaver, she did get rid of its creator.

“Cute.”

“What?”

“The hybrid, I think it’s named Imp. Fascinating little miracle of science.”

“Ugh, it’s as useful as a rodent. And twice as infuriating.” She said that like Imp wasn’t there in the room with them, he heard that and launched at the sorceress, biting her in her finger. The dark magician yelped and shook her hand in a cartoony comedic manner, a few seconds of the motion and Imp’s grip loosened and he flew through the air and landed in Entrapta’s hair where she brought him closer to her and gave him some soft scratches under his chin. He softened in her arms and pressed his cheeks against her shoulder. He stock his tongue out, and mouth farted at Shadow Weaver. Weaver growled and sighed.

“I’m getting the feeling you don’t like me.”

“What inclination makes you say that?”

“Oh just about anything and everything you do.” Entrapta unplugged from the tech and finally turned to face Shadow Weaver. She gave her a genuine smile, warm and well-meaning, “How about a dinner?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re clearly not a fan of mine, and this might be a beneficial social experiment to let us know each other better, since we’ll be working closely together for the foreseeable future.”

“Heh, what makes you think we’ll be ‘working closely together’?”

“You do want to know what this Hordak had been working on, don’t you? Do you know anyone else who can comprehend this sort of stuff?”

“I... I suppose not.” It was true, she didn’t, so Entrapta was important. But she wouldn’t admit that, and she would certainly not go to a dinner with a Princess. Before she could scoff any further, she heard a shy voice clear its throat. Weaver turned around to face it. It was Scorpia. Princess Scorpia.

“Umm, Ms Weaver, the uh, the excursion transport is ready. What are our next orders, ma’am, sir, m’Lord, Lady, Shadow Weaver... sir.” The Scorpion Princess awkwardly informed, her large red claw raised up to her temple, saluting. Two or three drips of sweat rolled down her face. For being so huge and muscular walking-rectangle she was very shy and small.

“What transport?!”

“Oh I was the one who requested it.” Entrapta replied. Entrapta moved through the room past the new Lord and moved to Scorpia. She handed the bat baby to the Scorpion Force-Captain, the hybrid boy kept attempting to chomp on Entrapta’s hair. Scorpia cradled the batling, whom now moved onto biting the hard claws. “We should solve the problem as soon as possible, so I gave a go-ahead.”

Shadow Weaver’s hand instinctly went up to her face, her muscle memory told her to rub her nose in exhausted irritation, but of course her mask blocked her hand. “Fine. Go. Fix my fortress.” She waved her hand to dismiss them, Scorpia and Imp moved out swiftly, only once she moved out of frame did Weaver notice that Catra stood behind her. The cat was sweating, clearly very nervous, she didn’t say anything, and followed Scorpia out. Entrapta hanged behind.

“Dinner. When I get back. We’ll talk. Takes around four hours to get to the outpost, four back, and a day in-between for excavation. So in three days, at 7, The Fright Zone cafeteria. I’ll cook.”

#shadow weaver #entrapta #hordak #spop imp

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juliandev0rak · 4 years ago

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Chapter Four of I’m Your Villain

Words: 3054

Warnings: mentions of death

Cadmus has killed a lot of people.

If someone were to ask him how many, he’d ask what counts as “killing”. Does it only count if he was the one who swung the blade? What about the people Agatha has killed? Or the people he hadn’t intended to kill- like guards, do they count?

Suffice it to say the answer is a lot.

He isn’t proud of it, but in his world it’s either kill or be killed. And Cadmus would rather not be killed. He has people to protect, not to mention- he’s pretty sure whoever eventually kills him won’t do it quickly.

Cadmus runs towards the clearing where he’d left Alecto. He isn’t fleeing, he’s simply… regrouping.

As he runs through the woods he tries to remind himself of the people he needs to protect, Daphne, Alexander, Avronne itself. Cadmus is turning his back on all of them by turning his back on this job. If he doesn’t do this the city could be in danger, or his father could decide he’s no longer useful. The Comte could take it out on Daphne.

He comes to a halting stop in front of Alecto and catches his breath. Agatha is curled up at the base of a nearby tree, looking at him in confusion. Her tongue flicks out in a questioning hiss.

“I don’t know what just happened,” Cadmus answers.

He needs to return to finish the job, there’s no way around it. His father won’t let him live if he fails, and if he’s dead there won’t be anyone around to protect Daphne. So he needs to kill this princess, this child, in exchange for the safety of another child. Surely his sister’s life matters more than some stranger’s.

It’s one small life for the good of his kingdom. It’s insignificant, just one more death in the long line of others. What’s a little more blood on his hands.

But when he closes his eyes he doesn’t see the princess, he sees Daphne.

“Fuck.” Cadmus walks a circle around the clearing, stopping in front of a large boulder. He kicks it hard, and the slight pain in his foot sharpens his senses again. At least pain he can understand.

While he’s been pacing, the sun has set and Cadmus needs to get back to the castle while the guests are occupied with dinner. He’s missed his best chance at a clean job, but he’ll come up with plan b.

He grabs an apple from his pack and eats it as his brain works to find a new course of action. Sickly sweet juice runs down from his lip and off of his chin, the drop lands on the dark fabric of his pants. He brushes it off with disdain and turns his thoughts to the layout of the castle. Getting into the princess’ room will be easy, but what then?

He’ll bring Agatha for backup this time, she can sneak through a crowd with ease if it comes to that. The castle is large so there will be plenty of places to hide. By the time he’s finished the apple, he’s got a new plan and a new sense of determination.

Cadmus throws the apple core into the trees, enjoying the resounding thump it makes as it hits a tree trunk. “Come along Agatha, we have a job to do.”

Agatha slithers in front of him as he treks through the woods again, this time hidden by the cover of twilight. As they approach the castle, he presses a hand to the top of Agatha’s head and casts a simple illusion charm to hide her from sight. It won’t hold up under scrutiny, but it's better than just hoping people won't notice an incredibly large snake wandering through the castle.

Though, Cadmus has learned by now that most people only see what they want to see. It makes his job much easier.

Cadmus stops briefly when he reaches the low stone wall where he’d last seen the princess. Agatha hisses at him as if to urge him on and he shakes his head to refocus. He climbs over the wall, keeping a closer eye out this time for guests or guards.

Climbing up the ivy wall to the princess’ room is almost too easy. He reaches the top in under a minute, just as he’d calculated, and finds the window cracked open. It’s perhaps too convenient, and if he wasn’t so pleased at himself for the quick climbing he’d just done, he might have suspected a trap. But no ambush comes, the room is well lit with candles and nobody is in sight.

The bedroom is wall to wall pink, covered in a bright fuschia damask that almost hurts his eyes. This is clearly the princess’ room. Melia’s room, the voice in the back of his head supplies. Cadmus scoffs and crouches down so he won’t be seen from the window as he searches the room. As he’d suspected, the princess isn’t here, nor are any of her servants.

His original plan had been to hide in her room until the birthday feast is over, to wait until she's asleep so he can kill her with less struggle. But as he looks around the room for a place to hide he feels an increasing sense of dread. The longer he waits, the louder the little voice in the back of his head gets, telling him he should leave now while he still can.

Cadmus is quite good at ignoring that little voice. He runs through the uses of various poisons in his head to distract himself. Hemlock, arsenic, cyanide- but he quickly tires of that and decides to speed things along. No sense waiting for the princess, he’ll go to her.

He opens the bedroom door slowly and Agatha slithers out first, scouting ahead. He opens it just wide enough to squeeze out and emerges into an empty hallway. Agatha has already reached the end, and he takes it as a sign that there are no guards hiding.

He continues to sneak along the corridor until he reaches the top of a stairwell. He’s pretty sure this is the back stairs that leads down to the kitchens, if Xiphos’ layout is correct. Though Cadmus can’t see any guards, he keeps his ears trained for any sound of approaching footsteps as he descends. He emerges into a landing with a hallway branching off in one direction and the stairs continuing to descend lower. He turns into the hallway, remembering something Xiphos had mentioned about a second story balcony surrounding the dining hall.

Sure enough, he opens a door at the end of the hallway and is met with the smell of food and the sounds of a dinner party. There's music and the smell of roasted meat and Cadmus would love to join the party, but he's got bigger problems.

The party below him goes on as Cadmus rounds the balcony, keeping his back pressed flat against the back wall to avoid being seen. He’s illusioned himself as well, but his magic will only go so far. As he looks down, he immediately spots the King and Queen of Greythal sitting on a raised throne platform. There’s a smaller, empty chair next to the Queen, presumably for the princess, Melia.

Cadmus spots the princess then. She dances around the edge of the room in time to the music, the pink skirt of her dress twirling along with her. A little boy no older than four, and clearly her younger brother from the matching blonde hair, runs into sight. She picks him up and spins him, and the sound of the little boy’s giggles and the princess’ laughter reaches Cadmus’ well-trained ears.

He needs to do this now, before that stupid, insipid, nagging voice in the back of his head tries to speak up again.

He reaches into the pack on his back and finds a small box. Opening its velvet lined case, he carefully pulls out a dart no bigger than the size of the fingernail on his pinky finger. It’s laced with Agatha’s venom, and he’s careful not to handle the sharp point. The dart is so tiny that it won’t easily be found. In his past experience the poison takes a few minutes to work, and by that point the tiny dart usually falls out as the target continues to walk around.

Agatha’s direct bite is much more potent, but he’d brought her along to scout not to attack. It would be too risky to send her down there alone, so a dart will have to do. Cadmus loads the dart into the hollow tube used to shoot it and aims.

He only has one shot, he can’t miss or he’ll risk discovery, but his hands are steady and he knows his aim will be true.

The princess moves out towards the corner of the room as she twirls and her little brother squeals in laughter and runs the opposite direction, leaving Cadmus with a clear shot. He raises his mouth to blow on the tube and shoot the dart. As if sensing his presence, the princess turns to face his direction and the smile on her face hits him in the gut. She doesn’t look directly at him, but all he can see is Daphne.

Just shoot damn it!

But his hands are shaking now and his aim will be off. The princess spins away into the crowd and he’s missed his shot. No doubt he’ll get another chance soon enough, he can wait. Instead, Cadmus narrowly avoids dropping the dart gun in his haste to back away from the balcony’s edge. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth and part of his brain is shouting at him to just kill her already while another part is begging him to run.

He’s never been conflicted like this, not since the first mission he’d been on. He doesn’t think, he just does. But now he can’t seem to stop thinking and it’s giving him a headache.

Cadmus hasn’t cared much about the morality of his job, it was simply something he had to do. He gets rid of potential threats for the good of his family and his city. But Melia poses no threat to him. She’s a child.

What the fuck is going on with you?

Cadmus has no answer for himself. He can’t even bear to look down at the dining room in case he sees the princess again and- what? Kills her? Doesn't kill her? Cadmus doesn’t know which option is worse, so he chooses to go with his instincts instead.

For the second time that day, he runs. More accurately- he flees.

He hopes Agatha is following as he runs back the way he’d come. This time he isn’t so lucky. He rounds a corner and spots two guards with their backs turned to him, patrolling down the hallway he needs to use to exit.

Cadmus sighs and reaches into his pack for another case of darts, these ones laced with a sleeping potion of his mother’s design. He could kill the guards of course, but that would raise too many questions. He easily loads the darts and shoots them off one after the other into the necks of the retreating guards. They immediately collapse in a heap on the floor, the larger one falling on top of the other one comically.

“Sweet dreams.” Cadmus steps over their bodies with a smirk, forgetting for a moment what he’s running from. He quickly recovers and makes his way up the flight of stairs back towards the princess’ room. The hallway looks clear, but right as he opens the door he sees a shadow out of the corner of his eye.

Cadmus whirls around, spotting Agatha slithering towards him at a fast pace. She hisses to alert him that more guards are on the way, and he quickly enters the room, trying to forget about the mysterious shadow he’d seen. As he’s climbing out of the window, he swears he hears a familiar laugh coming from the stones of the room itself.

He climbs down the ivy and looks back up at the window one last time, catching the glimpse of a figure silhouetted in the light. He shakes his head to rid the silly thought from his head, Alastor isn’t here. He needs to focus, he needs to escape.

Cadmus isn’t paranoid, he’s cautious. He never gets frantic like this. But he feels as if someone is pursuing him through the dark woods. Whether it’s guards or someone else he couldn’t say, but he runs faster just in case.

When he reaches the clearing he’d left Alecto in, Cadmus hops on his horse without a word and holds his arm out for Agatha to coil around him. He rides down the path he’d scouted earlier in the day, his mind racing with questions.

What is he doing? Where is he even going?

Cadmus can’t go home, not after this messy show of cowardice. His father would kill him, or more likely he’d have Alastor do it. The only choice is to run somewhere he can’t be found. The path through the woods opens up into fields and soon enough, he’s riding by the cliffs on the edge of the sea. He follows the path down figuring that where there’s water, there must be a dock.

Sure enough, the path begins to decline and the dirt turns into a paved road. He can smell the salt of the sea and the stink of fish that always accompanies a harbor. There’s a boat docked in the distance, the only one in the harbor. It is the off season after all, and he counts himself lucky to have found any vessel to escape on.

The harbor is located in a small port town. As Cadmus passes through he can see a light up ahead and hears the sound of music coming out of a boisterous tavern. What he wouldn’t give for a drink right now to clear his head, but he can’t stop.

Every second he lingers is a second someone could be coming after him. The guards might wake up, the princess might tell someone about the mysterious stranger she’d seen. And Cadmus would rather not be caught, he doesn’t want to die.

Not that anybody has ever cared about what he wants.

Cadmus can’t take Alecto with him on a boat, Agatha will be conspicuous enough. As he stops in an alleyway, he pats her head and reaches into his bag to get her an apple which she immediately devours. “I’m sorry, Alecto, but you can’t come with me.”

He takes off his saddle bag and slides off of her back, hoping she’ll understand to go home without him. Alecto seems to comprehend what he’s saying and she bows her head in a nod. Cadmus hates to part with her, he’d much rather be in control of his own transportation, but he has no other choice. To ride further inland would be a death sentence, he needs to cross the sea.

Perhaps Alecto’s arrival without him will make his father think Cadmus has perished. That would be lucky, nobody would hunt him down if he’s already dead. Alecto runs off towards the woods and the path to Avronne.

Cadmus watches her leave, and Agatha coils around his shoulders and arms. She’s heavy, but the weight feels comforting and he’s glad to have her here with him. He sneaks out of the alleyway and towards the ship docked a few feet away. There’s nobody on the deck, the crew must be at the tavern enjoying a stop in the port.

Cadmus makes his way onto the ship. It looks vaguely familiar, but then again he hasn’t been on many boats, they must all look similar. He hates travelling by boat. He’s loath to admit it, but he’s not a fan of small confined spaces. Especially those with no exit other than drowning in the sea.

He has to relinquish control here, he can’t steer a boat and he needs to hide well or he’ll be fighting off an entire crew- which even he would struggle with. More likely he’d be thrown overboard, and the water is freezing this time of year. Death by sword or by drowning, neither sounds appealing so Cadmus decides to simply stop thinking about it.

In the hold below deck he passes by hammocks and a closed door with a sign that says “Captain’s Quarters” on it. He heads to a dark corner hidden by barrels of dried food, figuring its the least conspicuous place to hide. He casts an illusion spell to further disguise him and Agatha, but he’s too exhausted from a day of running and casting magic that he knows it won’t do much to hide them.

This is far from ideal, but If he can just make it across the sea and into a new port before he’s found he’ll be safe. He just needs time to make a new plan.

As the minutes pass, he begins to hear the sound of voices and footsteps drift down from the deck above. Cadmus is stuck here now and it’s hard not to feel like the wooden walls of the ship are pressing in on him. Every sway of the boat in the waves makes him want to run back to the solid ground of shore. But he’ll just have to bear it.

One of the voices gradually grows louder as someone approaches. “We’ve got plenty of provisions Maz!” the voice calls. Something about it is familiar, but though Cadmus racks his brain he can’t remember where he’s heard it before.

A brusque woman’s voice answers back. “Ilya! Come back up and bring me that crate!”

The man’s footsteps stop a few feet away from Cadmus’ hiding spot, and he sees the edge of a boot in the gaps between barrels. The man laughs as he reaches for a wooden crate stacked on top of one of the barrels. It’s then that Cadmus realizes why the voice sounds familiar, he’d know that ridiculous laugh anywhere.

Ilya. Julian Devorak.

He should probably just throw himself overboard now, it would save everyone a lot of trouble.

#cadmus durand #I'm Your Villain #here i am finally posting this #cadmus would not talk to me he was actively threatening me away from writing this with a sword #but jokes on you bitch i made you and i can take your sword away #these tags aren't making any sense jkdfskjsd #i need to post this before i go insane #but anyways lol here is chapter 4 #im your villain- the story where cadmus runs away all the time

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neo-culture-mafia · 4 years ago

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고통스러운 기억

previous chapter

나 재민 Na Jaemin

My whistling tones could be heard as I walked down the school's main hallway. I was so close to tracking down Mark and Y/n. I could basically envision them walking right beside me on the way to my smoke break. Yet, smoking was no longer an option. Only these sugar-free cherry lollipops that seemed never-ending.

I had their locations. It was so easy I'm surprised I didn't look there in the first place. They were in our old apartment. I was planning on going up there this weekend when some of the elites were on a mission.

"Jaemin. What are you doing?" Chenle bounced next to me. My lollipop was already out of my mouth when I turned towards him.

"Solving World Hunger." I deadpanned and put the sugar treat back in my mouth. "You have blue hair now. Blueberry Head." My eyebrow raised as my hands slipped into my pockets. "Oh, thats cool by the way. You can buy me lunch anytime you want. Guess what?" I began walking but he decided to follow me and spill all his thoughts he had in that big head of his. We got next to the auditorium on the other side of the building before I stopped him.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class?" I abruptly stopped and he almost ran into me but caught himself quite quickly. "Oh. Yeah. Jeno said that if anyone questioned me to just say I was in his class. That's what he said I could do if I got out of his class and stopped bothering him." I wanted to laugh in the younger boy's face but knew that this opportunity was just too good to pass up.

"Lele. You do realize that I'm a teacher too...right?" I asked and it took a moment. I could see the realization appear on his face.

"Oh yeah. Uh-" Footsteps were heard behind me so I whipped around quickly to see nobody there. "What the hell?" I turned back to see that I was by myself. I was more spooked that he actually pulled that off. That hasn't been achievable since we were kids. Classic escape trick.

"That melon head." I sneered and began walking down the hall towards where I thought I heard the footsteps.

I passed the memorial and saw Hyuck's face. A swell of pride set in my chest as I leaned on the wall next to the glass. "I'm about to do some cool shit that I would've rubbed in your face." I chuckled. My back rested against the wall as I kicked my leg up on the wall. "Don't mean to brag. But I'm about to track down and reunite the whole family." I couldn't control the want and need to pop my color and act like the true badass I was.

I sighed, "I know. No need to thank me. Just doing what I do best-" "I wasn't thanking you though." I jumped to see the King Head himself reappeared with banana milk in hand. I got up ready to slap him when he smiled. "You need to stop sneaking up on people. And- appearing and disappearing whenever you please." I fixed my collar.

"Jae. I was with you all along. I didn't disappear." His thoughts got in my head as he innocently drank his flavored milk. "You looked down and around," Chenle's face got eerily close to mine, "But when you were in doubt-- you didn’t look up." His eyes flickered towards the ceiling as I followed his gaze.

Nothing.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean-" Yet, when I looked back down to eye level, I was alone.

I turned around back towards the case and literally ran into the young Chinese boy. "Stop doing that!" I seethed and but down on my lollipop.

His laughter could be heard as I started storming away down the hall.

"Wait for me!"

~~~~

The apartment never looked so tempting as it did right now, even from the 7-11 parking lot across the street. The aura coming from that nasty apartment building seemed so inviting to just go up and knock. Yet, my ass stayed on my motorcycle.

The coordinates scribbled down on paper lead me right to where home actually laid. "Oh my god, Jae. Don't be such a pussy." I groaned at myself and turned my bike off. I put the key in my pocket and put my kickstand down.

I started walking off the lot and my stomach was dropping into my feet. "Go back. Go back." My feet didn't listen as I approached closer and closer. "Please just go back," I begged my body. My body was ready to see them but I knew my heart wasn't.

I scaled the familiar steps and the next thing I knew, I was standing in front of the old familiar door I had shut only 7 and a half months ago. My hand came up to knock on the door. My body just couldn't come down and make my presence known to them.

What the hell do I say? 'yeah, you can come back now.' ?? Of course, I couldn't say that.

I turned around and reached for my cherry sucker. There was none left. "Dammit." My hands needed to be doing something. I spotted the 7-11 and knew that I would be only a couple minutes.

I turned towards the door and pointed, "I'll be back. We're not finished here." I was off down the steps and to the 7-11. It still smelled the same raunchy aroma that I still smell sometimes when I'm alone in my bed at 2 am. The stench was so distinct that my nostrils couldn't let go of it.

I went to the candy section and grabbed a big pack of suckers. I went to the front and laid down a $5. I walked out not in the mood for the excess human interaction.

I walked back to my bike and set the larger lollipop bag in my backpack as I shoved a handful into my coat pocket.

You got this, Jae. Just go up and hug them or tell them that you’re here again. Take them out for dinner or something.

I stood by my bike and was staring at the door that was still visible. I was trying to open it with my mind and have them come to me. I just didn't want to fear the rejection I knew I would face from Mark.

I just want to hug them and know that they're okay.

I want to know that they're not mad at me. That they're proud of me or something.

I nearly fell over when the door actually opened and two people exited. They were both in hoodies and looked sickly pale. They came down the steps and I could see that it was them. They didn't look the happiest but their smiles still shone the brightest.

I realized that they were coming straight towards the 7-11 and got too scared to face them. I turned my back towards them and pretended I needed something out of my bag. I was expecting a hug or something at least. Yet, they walked past me as if I wasn't even there.

I'm not mad. I knew that they weren't supposed to be looking for me or expecting to see me here. I knew that they didn't know I changed my hair from the pale pink to a soft blue. It wasn't their fault.

I watched them through the tinted lens of my glasses as they picked out small items to eat. Nothing sustainable.

They walked out with smiles and a meal that would make me groan out of dissatisfaction. I knew what I could do.

I watched them as they went back to the apartment and shut themselves in like hermits.

I threw my head to the sky and sighed. "Hyuck if this is you doing this, I swear that once I get up there I am going to beat your ass." I took my wallet. "I can't go back to jail, dude. I told you this, already." I whined as I walked back into the convenience store. I searched the aisles and went to the counter once I saw that it was clear.

"Those two people who just walked in," I pointed to where the apartment was as anyone could see it from the front of the store. "How often do they come in here?" I asked and the clerk just looked taken aback. "Every day, why?" I opened my wallet and started rummaging.

"What do they usually get?" My questions went unanswered for a moment longer than I was pleased with. "Usually just a plain kimbap and water to share?" The young boy seemed a little freaked out. "This is what you're going to do for me..." I looked at his name tag. "Jeongin." I looked him in the eyes and brought the wad of cash into our viewpoints.

"This is ₩1,000,000. You will put this on a gift card and the next time they come in they are going to," I took a deep breath, thinking of a word that didn't sound...demeaning. "Win. They are going to 'win' this gift card." I smiled and he was still frozen in his position. "But I'm not authorized to do tha-" "Then authorize yourself...and do it." I pushed the money towards him and he took it hesitantly.

He grabbed a gift card from behind the counter and gave me a piece of paper. "You need to sign this paper in order for me to give this to them when they receive the card." I noticed the boy was scared as his eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"Jeongin." I sighed as a light chuckle escaped my mouth, "Tell me, do you have older or younger siblings?" I asked and he visually gulped. "Well, yes. Yes, I do. Older and younger." He nodded. I smiled and pushed the money forward along with the form. "Well, they are my family. But, they cannot know that I'm doing this for them." I tried to appeal to his emotions but it was blocked.

"But-" "Jeongin you have 1 minute to put the money on the damn card and get this form out of my face before I light this place on fire." The lollipop I had bought from him not even 10 minutes ago hung from my lips.

He scrambled the form into the trash and started putting the money on the card. "Would you like to give a name?" He asked and I only slowly cocked my head to the side. Did he really not listen to what I was saying?

"Oh, yeah." He pressed more buttons and a receipt popped out. "You can call this number and see when and what they spent it on if you need to." He circled a phone number at the bottom of the paper and I smiled. "You caught on so quickly." I laughed and he could only chuckle in fear. My glasses fell to the tip of my nose as I shoved the receipt into my wallet.

"You give this to them and I won't come back. I find out this doesn't go to the boy or girl, I'll know who's skin I'll use as a doormat." I looked into his fox-like eyes and winked. He nodded quickly and put the card into his uniform pocket.

"I was never here," I called as I walked out the door and to my bike.

I wouldn't get to see them today.

You’re not going to intrude on their dinner! That is rude! Plus, you need to go to the tunnel door.

My mental to-do list checked itself off as I started the trek to the tunnels. Where I lost one of the most important people to me. I would go, pay my respects, and go to see the door myself.

The night was beautiful. The sun was golden and I knew that Hyuck was somewhere around here shining down on us all.

~~~~~

By the time I got to the tunnel opening, it was much darker. I propped my bike at the entrance of our tunnel and sat at the opening of the concrete jungle.

I played with some of the rocks nearby as I tried to break down my emotions.

"I'm sorry it ended like this." I spoke into the end. "But, I promise that you don't need to worry. No matter where you are, I am trying my best to get us back to where we were."

I sniffled my tears up and threw my head to the sky. "I love and miss you, dude."

I stood up and brushed all the dust off of my pants. I started to walk into the tunnel towards where our door is. I was looking for anything really. A sign of life or struggle. Just to reaffirm reality. That Hyuck was gone and he wasn't struggling. We all knew he was. There was a hope that I would make it to our door and see Hyuck there: Long hair and beard as he had survived and gone back to a simpler and caveman-like way of life.

Yet, I was met with the cold reality of the fact. No one was at the end of the tunnel. A shoe laid on the ground in the corner next to the door. It wasn't Hyuck's but it was y/n's. I knew she was okay but it still made a cry erupt from my chest.

I sat down on the dusty ground and held the shoe to my body. Nobody was going to touch it but me.

If only you would've gone back and not listened to Mark, Jae. Maybe, Hyuck would still be here and you would've gotten to Busan on time. Maybe, if you would've worked out more you could've carried y/n faster and she would be in the family again. God Jae, you're so stupid.

I held the shoe tighter as my tears fell and my head rested against the cement wall. "I'm so sorry."

"If you were to bring them back alive. Then I suppose they can be sworn in once more." Taeyong was not happy with the situation at all. He fucked it up himself and now it felt like he was paying for it. Jeno's eyes filled with tears quickly as I could only freeze in pure ecstasy. "We won't mess this up." Jeno bowed deeply to Taeyong and so did I. They were going to be coming home.

"Let's go." Jeno ushered me out of the office as he shut the big door behind him. We only stared at each other for a couple of seconds before wrapping each other up in the tightest hug we could manage. "Come on. I already have some ideas of where they could be!" Jeno pulled me down the hall and to the tech room where Renjun and Chenle were currently running Mark's and Y/n's chips through testing. They were still alive but there was no clear signal.

Hours went by and more and more people were losing motivation for the day. After the last person went to bed, I was the last person in the room. They were close. I could feel it. I wasn't going to rest until I knew exactly where, though.

Anger bubbled inside of my chest as I unwillingly screamed and threw the deteriorating shoe at the wall in front of me. My body felt as if it was a soda bottle that was being shaken up. I was about to explode on pure anger alone.

I got up and started punching and kicking the walls. "Why couldn't you just open?!" I screamed as I pulled on the locks and handles of the door as much as I could. "You stupid fucking-" bang bang bang bang

I looked around and grabbed a rusted iron pipe that laid on the floor. I took all my anger out just beating this door. I imagined the door as everything that has wronged me in life. This life wasn't fair but it was okay.

It will all be okay eventually

"No. It won't!" I screamed and something on the door broke. A latch fell inside the door and I threw the rusted pipe down. I pulled on the door as much as I could and it finally gave way and opened.

Our secret bunker was revealed where money coated the walls. "Why couldn't you have broken back then?" I looked to the door and kicked it one last time.

I walked in and was automatically taken back to my childhood. Scary but fun.

I grabbed the doll that rested on the coffee table.

"Give it back you acorn!" I held y/n's doll above her head and ran around the bunker as she chased me. I stopped quickly as she ran into me and we both fell to the ground. "Get off of me! You have cooties!" I yelled and tried pushing her off of me.

"Then give me the doll back!" She yelled but I continued to play 'keep-away'. "No. And don't cry about it." As if I had flipped the switch to the lakes behind her eyes, she started crying. Everyone around the small house tuned into the situation. "Give me the doll back or I'm gonna kiss you and-and you're going to have cooties." she threatened and I thought she would never do it.

"Never." I got up and started running around more. Renjun put his leg out and tripped me so I fell face-first into the carpet. I watched in slow motion as y/n leaned down and laid a sloppy kiss on my cheek. My 10-year-old mind thought I was dying as I released her doll and began to wipe the drool off of me.

"Thank you!" She cheered as she grabbed her doll and sat next to Mark and Jeno.

I groaned as I rolled over and made eye contact with Renjun. "Do that again and-" "and what?" Renjun threatened. He raised a fist and I saw red. I lept off the ground and tackled Renjun to the floor. For being a scrawny kid, he was strong.

We both laid some punches on each other's faces before being pulled apart by the older elites. "Tell me why babysitting kids was a good idea?" Johnny asked Taeyong as Johnny's teenage arms wrapped around my wiggly body.

"They'll grow up to love each other. We just have to stick to it." Taeyong said pushing Renjun over and sitting on him so he couldn't move.

"True. Very true, Taeyong." I chuckled as I set the doll back down and sat on the couch.

"You can't be serious." I laughed as Donghyuck nodded. "It's from America. I found it in Johnny's bedroom. He called it 'gush'?" He held up the small bag more to the light. It was night time and we both snuck out. It was a couple days after my 16th birthday. It was cold that night but the bunker was so warm.

"...Do you eat it?" I asked and he only shrugged. "I heard Jaehyun say, 'smoke'. But, I don't know what to use." He confessed. "I saw the papers he was talking about using. They were like," he thought for a moment and got up, walking to the bookcase on the other side of the room. He immediately grabbed the Bible and opened it to start feeling the paper between his fingers. "Basically the same." I could hear him whisper and before I could ask what he was doing, he ripped a handful of pages out.

He came back over and took the bag and throwing it on the floor. He stepped on it till the little green rocks were broken up. I watched as he skillfully folded the paper and dumped the remnants of the small clear bag onto the thin pages. He rolled it up and grabbed a lighter from the near-by table. He wasted no time in putting the roll to his mouth and lighting one end while he took a deep breath in.

Violent coughing was followed by my uncontrollable laughter. I grabbed it and it automatically felt like a cigarette. I lit the one end and inhaled. It burned different than a cigarette but it felt nice. It automatically lifted a weight off of my head. I sat back and blew rings into the air surrounding us.

We took turns until all that was left was the mouth-piece. I threw it onto the glass coffee table and just leaned back. "Oh, that feels amazing." Hyuck sighed as he curled into a ball in the crevice of the couch. I watched Hyuck as he continued to apologize to the bible and his ancestors for doing drugs.

I spent the next 4 hours high off my ass. It was magical and we were back at the house before breakfast even started.

"You smell like ass." Y/n said as soon as we walked into the house. She was walking down the main marble staircase while most people were in the kitchen or the living room still waking up with cartoons. "Shut the fuck up," I whisper yelled and she was just taken aback. Hyuck went over to put his finger in front of her lips. "Shut it." He said and walked past her and up the stairs.

"I don't care what you did but just go take a shower. It smells like you fucked a skunk." She pushed Hyuck away from her and tried to make a right into the living room but I took her and wrapped her in my arms. "Ew, you smell even worse!" She screeched and I was still buzzed so I thought it was hilarious. Johnny and Jaehyun however, did not find this funny.

She pushed me away and I turned to go up the stairs when I ran into Johnny and Jaehyun...literally. "You're zooted." I heard Johnny sigh and was super confused. "Is breakfast done I'm so hungry." I groaned as I tried to break through the wall of older boys.

"Nope. Go take a cold shower." Jaehyun pointed up the stairs. "Jaemin. Don't tell Johnny I took his gush." Hyuck stood at the top of the stairs, peeking out from behind the corner, his finger over his lips. His voice echoed off the marble walls and stairs.

I held a thumbs up as Johnny's mouth dropped. "You took mine? And it's called kush you dumbass. I'm gonna beat both of your asses once you come down." Johnny grabbed the back of my collar and started to pull me up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, Mark came out of his room.

Fear rushed into my head and all of a sudden, I wasn't drifting to reality, I was falling very hard. "Oh, Mark!" Johnny greeted over-enthusiastically. "I'm so glad you're here!" Jaehyun called from the middle of the stairs. "We found out where these two numb-nuts were." I looked up to Johnny and put a finger to my mouth. "It's a secret. Sssshhh." I said but Johnny wasn't in the mood.

"They were out smoking weed." Mark's eyes widened as walked closer. "Oh, yeah? Where's the other one?" Mark's arms were crossed over his chest. "Ran off to his room." Johnny spilled everything. "Alright, thank you. I'll take care of it." Mark said and Johnny released my collar.

I tried to fake Mark out and run the other way but stumbled on my own two feet.

He gripped the back of my collar and pulled me all the way to Hyuck's room. Hyuck was still trying to take his pants off from the night before. "I'm cHanGInG!" He groaned as he fought with his own legs.

"And you're doing it while high." Mark said and Hyuck almost looked like he was offended. "How dare you accuse me of partaking in such a devious act," Hyuck said trying to stand up but fell over his pant leg. I tried falling to the floor in laughter as Hyuck was already wheezing from the humor. Mark didn't find it funny though.

We were both thrown in a cold shower and forced to drink plain hot coffee. We hit reality very quickly once we got out and were met with our workout clothes. "5Km before breakfast," Mark said and walked out of the bathroom.

We didn't get caught high anymore after that.

I looked at the armory and saw my old gun. The red paint and ropes tied around the butt of the heavy metal. I saw the date written on the slide. 2018.28.09. I could only sigh as my head fell back on the couch.

I was high once again. Life was getting harder and the light was getting dim. I had said my goodbyes and I had given my most prized possessions away. My conscious was clean. I was leaving with no unfinished business.

I sat in my favorite spot in the bunker. Where I sat to get high more than once with Donghyuck. My spot on Family movie night even though I would have to arm wrestle or actually wrestle Renjun or Y/N for it.

I don't think they'd want this spot anymore.

Just me, my alcohol, and my gun. My last pack of cigarettes has dwindled to empty and so has my will to live.

'it was a long time coming and i'm sorry you had to find me like this~' was written on the note that laid next to me. The thick envelope held my goodbye letter to my family, my favorite people.

"Please let it be quick." I talked to anyone that might've been watching over me. I didn't want to suffer for any longer than I needed to.

I started to read my S.O.M. even though I wasn't on a mission. It seemed fitting as I had made living a chore. It really was a mission by this point.

My phone dinged and I could make out the name through the tears,

'Bunny: Let's go. I got you ice cream. It's sitting on the counter waiting for you! peach and strawberry!' A weep crackled through my chest. She was going to have to eat it by herself because I wasn't going to be coming home tonight.

My phone dinged once more, 'Bunny: Your favorite movie just uploaded to Netflix. Wanna watch it? I haven't seen it yet!' The guilt started growing in my chest but I wasn't going to drown in it.

I threw my phone down with a satisfying crack. I grabbed the gun and loaded it as fast as I could. The alcohol spilled and I couldn't get the bullet in the chamber. 'just let me have this one thing' I asked a higher being but nothing would budge. My own heartbeat drowned all other sounds out.

I didn't even hear the door open and Mark ask me if I was okay. I think he pieced what was trying to happen when he saw my tears and struggle. The envelope on the seat next to me confirmed the assumptions. He closed the door and walked over slowly.

He slowly put his hand on my shoulder. "Jae?" His voice was soft. I looked up through my tear-soaked eyelashes and saw his concerned look. I thought he was going to yell at me so I just gave up as the gun and round dropped onto the carpet below.

I covered my face with my hand as he cleared the spot next to me. "Hey, buddy." He rubbed my back. "It's okay." I was waiting for him to blow up. "Just do it already." I snapped and he chuckled, "Do what?" I looked at him once more. "Scream. Yell. Tell me how stupid I am for wanting to die." I sighed. "Why do you think I would yell at you for something like this?" He was so comforting it just made me more scared.

"Because. You-you guys always say that it-t it's not the right way to go. Only cowards do this-is kinda stuff." I mimicked his words and I thought I could hear his heartbreak. "And you're right." I nodded and he only shook his head. "We didn't know you struggling, Jae." His voice hitched at the end.

"It's hurt for so long, man." I chuckled sitting back on the couch.

Mark leaned down and grabbed the singular round and heavy metal weapon.

He put the round in his pocket and walked over to put the gun up on the armory wall. Mark walked back over and stood in front of me. He only raised his arms up. Some tears cut across his cheeks but I could tell he was trying his best to keep it together. I stood up and wrapped my arms around him. His hand came up to pat the back of my head. "I'm so proud of you, Jae." I lost it once more as I felt into a pit of guilt.

"You're so strong and if I would have known you were this hurt then I wouldn't have let you struggle for this long by yourself," Mark confessed, "I promise." My sobs sliced the air in loud yet healing breaths.

"I'm so sorry." I sobbed into my older brother's shoulder. "There is nothing to be sorry about." Mark shushed me. "I'm just glad I followed you when I did." He confessed.

"And I promise that we'll get you help." Mark was so forgiving.

I don't think he knows that I heard him cry himself to sleep that night.

No one else knew. Not even y/n who slowed me down. If it weren't for her-- Mark might've been too late to save me.

I sighed as I stood up and got ready to leave this memory-filled wonder house.

I turned off the lights and tried to close the door as much as I could, hoping no homeless man would try to open it. I walked through the tunnels to my bike that sat unscathed by any passers-by.

I hopped on and looked at the entrance one more time. "I promise."

The ride home was long yet I had just arrived in time for family dinner. I walked in as everyone sat down. "Jaemin! You're back!" Taeyong greeted and I could only smile. "Where were you?" Taeil asked and I had this unreadable grin. "I saw Mark and Y/N." The only one not excited by the news was Taeyong.

"Really? Did you speak to them?" Jisung nearly sprang out of his seat. "Not necessarily, bud." I laughed as I sat down in between Doyoung and Jeno. "They walked right past me though!" I said and Chenle laughed. "Sounds about right!" He hummed.

"Are they okay? Do they look healthy? What were they doing?" Renjun asked as he took a piece of meat into his mouth. I didn't have the heart to break it to them. The whole table was tuned into the news of everybody's no longer missing family members.

"They're...doing alright. They were going to the convenience store to buy some dinner." I nodded as I served myself food. "Are they back at the apartment?" Jeno questioned and I saw a look in Taeyong's eyes that made a shiver run down my spine.

"No. Not at the apartment." I shook my head as I counted the pieces of meat in my bowl. 5 pieces. Perfect.

"Well, we'll all be awaiting their return I suppose." Taeyong took a long sip of his hard liquor. "It's gonna be so nice having them back." Johnny smiled at everyone. "Kun said that the first night that he's coming back to cook. He's going to bring the whole team!" Renjun shared. "Yuta said he'll be flying in too!" Chenle cheered.

I side-eyed Taeyong and for a moment his venomous smile fell for a micro-expression to imprint into my mind. He looked dangerous, hateful, and over-all angry.

I pushed it aside and ate the first bite of food, "Sounds like a plan!"

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prurientpuddlejumper · 5 years ago

Text

Well This is Strange and Unexpected [Toshinori x Reader] [Part 1 of ?]

Part 2 ->

I tried to resist completely weebing out over My Hero Academia, but Toshinori’s siren call pulled me in. It’s weird writing for a fandom with more than 5 people in it, but oh well… I AM HERE!

Summary: Female reader with a healing-ish quirk rescues a sickly stranger, and impulsively asks him out. Toshi is touched that someone would be attracted to him in his weak form, but weirder still… you don’t like All Might?!

3,990 words | SFW

A couple of guys were harassing him. One of them had him by the cuff of his shirt (which hung loosely on him, accentuating his shriveled size), snapping shark-like teeth, while the other one stood back and threateningly produced sparks from his fingertips. This wasn’t what you expected when you walked into the corner store, but not really surprising—this isn’t the best neighborhood.

They didn’t seem like real villains, at least. They were being careful not to actually use their quirks to do anything beyond intimidate, or else heroes might get involved.

Just assholes bullying an easy target.

The guy they were picking on didn’t seem too worried either, despite being the most fragile-looking man you’ve ever seen. Gaunt cheeks and deeply sunken eyes—everything about him, in fact, giving the impression of a zombie—with a mop of blond hair that was just as oversized as his clothes. He looked more annoyed at his current situation than anything, glancing over his shoulder and scowling like he’d left the oven on at home.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attitude.

Shark-face and sparky weren’t as charmed. “Hey! Are we boring you, grandpa? Learn a little respect!” They shove him forward and back between each other until he doubles over in pain, wheezing and coughing blood. That can’t be from anything they did. Come to think of it, they’re in the medicine aisle. Wow, they decided to pick on a sick guy. They push him to the floor while he’s still hacking and convulsing, struggling to breathe. Your fists clench at your sides.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” the zombie growls, wiping the blood from his lips like a boxer who just took a punch and is ready to deal it back. Except they barely had to touch him. He could be in trouble if this turns into a serious fight.

His ice-colored eyes dart around the room, looking for something, anything he can turn to his advantage, like a desperate, wounded animal. A news report of some big drawn-out fight with All Might earlier today plays on a TV above the register. The cashier doesn’t look up. Other customers are in the store, but nobody is paying any attention—nobody wants to get involved.

You don’t want to get involved either, but…

The shark-tooth guy lands a kick to his ribs, shooting more blood out of the thin man’s mouth, while his accomplice cackles wildly. “That’ll wipe that smug look off your face!” He goes in to kick him again—

“STOP IT!” you shout, rushing forward to insert yourself between the bleeding man on the floor and his assailants. Adrenaline pulses in your veins. Your muscles shake. Thanks to your quirk, you’re not too scared of getting hurt, but you have no idea how to fight, or what to do next.

“What’s this?” the shark menaces, with a harsh laugh. “You his little girlfriend or something?”

Your cheeks flame, but before you can deny it, you think—they probably think a guy like that couldn’t get a girlfriend. They’re already bullying him for being weak. So you announce defiantly, “Yeah, maybe I am!”

“Really? This loser?” His jaw drops.

“All the more reason to break his face in,” the fire-starter snarls. “Then you can date a real man.” He steps in to your space, uncomfortably close, and runs his tongue over his lip. Your skin crawls. Ugh, why did I go and provoke him?

“M-miss, please don’t get involved.” Shaking, the pale blond struggles to his feet behind you. “It’s fine—” The other criminal shuts him up with a hand around his throat. His cold eyes narrow fiercely at the assailant, but his struggling does nothing to loosen his grip.

“Sure, I’ll go out with a real man. Know any?” you spit.

“Bitch!” he growls, and winds up to strike you, his fist suddenly engulfed in flame. Smoke (or is it steam?) begins to fill the room.

You drop to the floor before he ever touches you.

Then you start screaming.

“AAAHHHH, HELP!!!! WAAAHHH!” you cry in your most pathetic, high-pitched wail. “NOOOO, PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!! HELP!!! POLICE! POLICE!!!”

The blond guy has stopped kicking against his attacker’s grip, and the attacker has lost his zest for choking. They’re both just staring at you. So is everyone else in the store. Other customers are peeking over the tops of the aisles, or rushing over to help. Somebody asks, “Are they beating up a girl?”

“AAIIIIEEE!!! OW, OUCH!” you sob, clutching the imaginary wound on the side of your face.

The two troublemakers glance at each other. Then at the growing audience.

They drop the stranger and run.

Everyone is a little surprised when you’re suddenly all better, but they turn and go back to their shopping. “That was disgraceful,” says a stern voice above you. His ego was clearly hurt being rescued that way, but his eyes are warm as he offers you his hand and helps you up.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a cheeky grin, brushing off your clothes.

“You didn’t have to get involved, you know. What was your plan if they didn’t run away? That was a risky gamble.”

“Nah. I know their type. They were counting on not drawing too much attention, that’s why they were going after a weak target… uh…”

The guy is pouting with a tragic look on his face. “Weak,” he repeats in a long, extended squeak. His shoulders fall, “It’s true.”

“Are you alright, anyway?”

“Me?” he perks up, giving a big smile to show he’s OK, and pointing a thumb at himself. “Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be fine. Thank you for hel—”

Blood gushes from his mouth, and he falls to the floor, unconscious.

****

Dammit, why’d I have to get jumped when I’m already way past my limit? I hate this weak body. Pathetic. I can’t protect anyone. Not even myself.

Everything is dark. Everything is quiet except for the steady pulse of his heart. Then he hears your voice, distant and small, calling to him. Slowly, the voice gets closer. The darkness fades. Yagi Toshinori feels himself coming back to life.

As his eyes open and his vision clears, he sees you, hovering over him. His lungs aren’t filled with blood anymore. In fact, he hasn’t felt this good since the last time Recovery Girl healed him. He looks up at you smiling back at him.

“Thank goodness,” you whisper. You cough, and blood runs down your chin.

****************************************************

“I don’t have a healing quirk. Not really,” you explain, wiping blood from your face. “I can’t make injuries go away, but I can transfer them between people. The neat part is, it isn’t all-or-nothing: I can absorb, say, 10 percent of a wound, and share the burden so we can both recover. But if I wanted to heal somebody all the way, I’d end up just as hurt. So, my quirk is honestly pretty useless.”

“That doesn’t sound useless at all. You helped me, didn’t you?” The stranger’s bright eyes are piercingly kind as they gaze up at you from their dark sockets. Even on the floor of the medicine aisle of a convenience store, with drying blood speckling his white shirt, he has an inspiring aura that makes you want to believe his compliments instead of brush them off.

“How are you feeling? I couldn’t heal you anywhere near all the way. Your body is… pretty messed up. UHHHH, sorry for using my quirk on you without permission! I… kind of know some private medical information about you now. Sorry.”

With great strain, he sits up on his elbows, and struggles to get to his feet, but is caught off balance by a fresh fit of coughing, and slumps back down. You offer him a hand. As soon as you’ve pulled him up, you are wracked by a bloody cough, and he quickly grabs your shoulder to keep you from stumbling.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a low voice, lanky bangs falling in front of his face. “You’re suffering now because of me.”

“It’s nothing, really. I only took a little; you’re the one who’s been suffering. Can I help you get home? Do you have anywhere close you can rest?”

He shakes his head. “You’ve already done too much for me, don’t worry. I’ll get a taxi.”

“In your condition?! No way. Why don’t you come home with me—my apartment is right across the street.” Your pulse starts racing. Did you just ask a stranger home? “Just to rest for awhile! Until you’re sure you won’t black out in the back seat of a cab.”

His razor-sharp cheeks flush with a tinge of pink. “That’s very kind, but… Really, this is normal for me.” He gives a carefree grin which is actually extremely tense.

“Then…” you ball your fists in determination, “will you go on a date with me?”

He stops cold. All he manages to make is a short, nonsensical string of vowels. You’re in shock at yourself, too. Your heart is pounding like crazy, but you’ve already gone this far.

“I mean, you said I’ve done too much for you, right? So, you can pay me back with a date!”

“Wha—” His entire face turns bright scarlet and his nonexistent eyebrows fly off his forehead. “Wha… but… uhhh. I. Um. What kind of date? (Is it really OK to ask for that kind of payment??)”

“I’ve got the latest Space Adventure movie and a bowl of microwave popcorn back at my apartment. I was going to watch it alone, but it would be more fun with company.”

His brow tents upward, and he gives a defeated whine, “You’re kind of devious, you know, miss!”

“What do you think about curry for dinner?”

His mop of hair falls over his face, and his shoulders begin to jerk. You can hear him laughing beneath it. Finally, he tosses his head back smiling—as his twin bangs fly upward, for a moment it reminds you of a certain hero. “OK, OK, I surrender!” he puts his hands up. “I’m clearly outmatched here. I’m Toshinori, by the way.”

****

After checking out of the store, you slowly limp your way home, practically carrying each other down the block. You offer him your arm for support. He insists on supporting you instead. You counter-insist. In the end, you wind up leaning against each other like a pair of drunks staggering home from the bar.

“So, you said you can ‘transfer injuries between people,’ not that you can transfer them to yourself. Does that mean you can transfer them back?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then you should give it back to me right away!” he clenches his fist, and announces it with so much passion that passers-by stop to see if someone is being robbed. He softens his voice to a low rumble, and leans closer. “You shouldn’t be hurt on my account.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’d pass out again. You’re pretty thin but I still don’t wanna carry you.”

He mopes silently for a moment. You had him there. He bounces back from the sulk with academic curiosity. “Can you use your ability to transfer injuries to a third party, as an attack?”

“Yes, but…” You drop your gaze to the sidewalk. “I don’t ever want to use it that way.”

“Why not? It sounds like it would be a strong power for a hero.” Imagine how useful a quirk like that would be to pair with young Midoriya, healing him when he uses One For All at full strength, and simultaneously dealing out more damage to the bad guys.

“Are you kidding? Sucking wounds out of allies to use against an enemy? Their bones spontaneously snapping and shattering with a single touch? Their organs failing from an attack that never even hit them? Deciding who lives and who dies? It’s horrific.”

“Battle is always horrific, no matter how it’s done. But I understand what you mean.” He smiles. “It’s good that you don’t want to hurt people.”

“Besides, it only works through touch; I’d have a hard time grabbing onto a villain with my body broken.”

“That’s not the only way you could use it. If you honed your reflexes, you could reflect back the damage from a punch instantly. It would be like your opponent was punching themselves!” He excitedly throws a jab at the air with his free hand. “I’ve never heard of anyone with a quirk like that. You’re pretty special,” he adds with a smile.

A warmth blossoms in your chest. You’ve never been proud of your weird quirk, but the way he talked about it made you feel like maybe it was special. You never even thought about using it that way, and he came up with it in thirty seconds!

“Yeah, we could call you Mirror Girl, or Stop-Hitting-Yourself.”

“Well, I’m a little old to go after a hero license now, and naming things is clearly not your forte,” you stick out your tongue. “But thank you. What about you? Quirkless, right?”

“Something like that,” he answers nervously.

****

Your apartment is a small-but-cozy, slightly messy space at the top of a flight of stairs you would have described as “short” before having blood in your lungs. As soon as the door is open, Toshinori spots the couch and gratefully slumps onto it without hesitation, letting out a long sigh of relief. Remembering manners, he turns to you.

“Thank you… for everything, really. It was embarrassing to have to be rescued like that, but you were very brave, helping me even though you didn’t have to. You even thought of a way to get me to stop being so stubborn,” he laughs. “You were joking about the date, right? I promise I’ll take it easy and rest, you don’t have to pretend to be interested.”

Your skin grows hot and you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything your face is doing. On the walk over you’d gotten comfortable leaning on him, and kind of forgot you asked out a random guy you just met like some kind of psycho! But…

“I wasn’t kidding. Unless you don’t want to—I mean—not to pressure you, th-that is… I was kidding about the ‘you owe me’ part! I was just trying to get you to not run off on your own in this condition.” Maybe you can just dig a hole in your living room floor and hide in it? “But… I would like to go on a date with you.”

He’s completely taken aback. “You really want to go out with someone like me? Who can’t even protect himself?”

“Sure. You’re kinda my type, actually.”

“Are you serious?!”

You laugh a little at how shocked he’s acting. “Come on, it’s like you’ve never been asked out before.”

“Not like this I haven’t!” He blurts, then claps a hand over his mouth like he spilled a secret.

“Like… this?”

He grumbles and drops his shoulders. “You must have sensed it when you were using your quirk on me anyway, so there’s no point hiding it. I wasn’t always this weak.” He pulls up his shirt and reveals a grizzly web of scars and inflamed tissue taking up half of his left side. “An accident damaged a lot of my organs and completely destroyed my stomach. I’m barely patched together with everything medicine and healing quirks can do. There was a time those guys wouldn’t have been a problem for me.”

“Oh, wow.” Without thinking, you’re beside him on the couch, and your hands are on his mangled flesh, studying it with fascination. He draws in a sharp breath between his teeth.

You quickly take your hands off him. “Does it hurt?”

“N-no, just…” His eyes dart away.

Gasping, your hands fly to your mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! That was completely inappropriate, I should have asked! You must think I’m some kind of—I’m so sorry!”

“It’s OK, you just surprised me. You can go ahead, if you really want to…”

You bite your lip. Having to consciously decide to touch his bare skin makes it so much more embarrassing. It’s way too forward, right? Then again, you both agreed it was a date…

Slowly, you examine his wounds with your fingertips. You could tell something was off about his internal organs when you were hunting for damage to absorb from him, but this is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Ridges of scars and sutures extend from his chest to his lower abdomen, and unlike an old wound that has properly healed, the tangled flesh is red and angry. There are a few fresh bruises blooming on his ribs from the kicks he took, which you have a matching set of, and some other recent injuries of mysterious origin. The most surprising thing is how muscular he is, considering his emaciated frame. He probably could have taken those guys in a fight, if not for the internal bleeding.

His breathing becomes rapid and shallow as you explore his body. Goosebumps raise on his skin everywhere that isn’t scar tissue. He swallows, hard.

“Aren’t you disgusted? I don’t usually show this off on the first date.”

“Not at all. I think it’s cool! Ah, I mean—ugh—sorry. It must be really painful for you, of course it’s not ‘cool,’ I just mean…” You hide your face in your hand with a groan. “I’m really messing this up, aren’t I?”

He chuckles softly at you. “I’m just glad you’re not freaked out. Most people react… differently.”

“Heh, well, honestly…” you peek out from between your fingers. “Frankenstein is my favorite book, so this look is actually really appealing.”

“Are you comparing me to the monster? That’s not a compliment!” he scolds theatrically, with a playful light in his eyes—before blood erupts from his mouth.

“Sorryyyyy!!!!” you laugh—before blood erupts from your mouth.

Tentatively, he reaches out, and rubs your back as you recover from coughing. His face was built to frown, and the deflated expression of regret etched deep into its sharp lines effortlessly slips back into place over the brief moment of levity.

“Did you absorb my respiratory damage? Those injuries are permanent, they’ll never heal— you have to give them back, right now.”

“Stop worrying so much. Chronic injuries are different; I’m not even sure if I can transfer them. Pretty sure it’s just inflammation that got aggravated from exerting yourself.”

His frown deepens. “You should still give it back.”

“I told you, don’t worry. It’s already feeling better. Anyway, if I did that, I’d be hurting you, and you know it’s illegal to hurt another person with a quirk.”

“…in that case, it was illegal to use your quirk in public in the first place…” he grumbles.

Quickly changing the subject, you point at the TV. “About that movie!”

****

Because of his total gastrectomy, Toshinori can’t eat anything too sweet, spicy, fibrous, or fatty, among a host of other things to avoid. Moreover, he can’t eat very much at once, so he has to be snacking constantly through the day.

Luckily, popcorn fits the bill, so you both sit on the couch with a big bowl of it between you, while laser weapons flash through space on the screen.

Halfway through the movie, he yawns sleepily, stretching his lanky arms over his head. As they come down, one of them lands awkwardly on the back of couch just behind your shoulder. Your head swivels. Your mouth hangs open. You stare at him, aghast.

“DID YOU JUST DO THE YAWN TRICK?”

“Uhh…” He stares stiffly forward at the TV screen, arm discreetly inching back up from whence it came.

“Seriously, this is a date. If you wanna cuddle, just go for it.” You move the popcorn bowl to the side, and snuggle into him under the offending arm. It is the world’s tensest cuddle, as you both question whether this is way too fast. But soon he relaxes, lowering his arm around you.

By the time the end credits roll, he’s laying with his head in your lap, half asleep, while you stroke his messy hair. “C-captain Wan…” you sniffle, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. Toshinori stirs.

“I don’t get it. What were those snake things about?”

“What?! Haven’t you seen any of the Star Adventure series?”

“It’s a series?”

You sit, sputtering, opening and closing your mouth again. He sits up as you explain that this is the latest movie in a really famous franchise that has been out for decades, spanning television and the big screen—you thought he knew that!

“Ohh. I’m not really into nerd stuff.”

Before you can vibrate into an antimatter weapon and explode with enough force to tear open the space-time continuum, he laughs “kidding, kidding!” and tells you he still had fun. Charming bastard. Good thing he’s cute.

Next time, you promise to show him the first movie. Or make it up to him with something he’s more interested in. And you’ll be sure to have more snack options on hand!

“Next time, huh?”

What does he mean by that? He was smiling but his eyes looked kinda stern, like he was teasing? It means he’s looking forward to it, right? Or is he saying it’s absurd? You did totally shanghai him into this and he didn’t even like the movie. “That is,” you start sweating nervously, “If you wanted a second date.”

He stares into the distance, squinting in thought. Not immediately reassuring.

“I should warn you, most days I don’t have any free time,” he says in a low, serious voice. “Today I got so far past my limit, I had no choice but to rest awhile… but I wouldn’t be able to see you very often. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Slow down there, Yugioh! I’m asking for a second date, not your hand in marriage,” you quip, flicking one of his floppy bangs. Your shoulders fall. “Oh. Wait. Unless you’re just being polite. You can be straight with me, I don’t pick up on hints very well.”

“No, I meant it!” He takes your hand and draws it close, interlacing his bony fingers with yours. You think he’s about to kiss it, but he just holds it to his chest like a precious possession. “This has been interesting. To know someone could still want me like this…” He rubs circles over the back of your hand with his thumb. The sensation sends shivers radiating through your arm, making your heart flutter and ache for more. “I just don’t want to make promises to you I can’t keep. My schedule doesn’t leave much downtime, but… the hospital is in this neighborhood, so I could visit you whenever I’m nearby. It isn’t as much as you deserve, but…”

“Second date. Not marriage. I just want to see you again sometime, and keep getting to know you.”

Maybe it’s just that you love his angular, skeletal figure, and his grim but friendly eyes. Maybe you just love taking care of wounded birds. But maybe it’s something deeper. There’s a fire within him that draws you in, and you just want to see where this goes.

A PHONE CALL IS HERE! A PHONE CALL IS HERE! A PHONE CALL IS HERE!

The moment is abruptly interrupted as Toshinori drops your hand to hastily pull out his phone, and fumbles to silence the ring. He’s so mortified he spits blood.

“Is that All Might’s voice?” you ask, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“What? No, it’s just a novelty ringtone!”

“That is totally All Might! Oh my god, you’re…”—he winces—“a fanboy!”

He lets out a held breath, visibly relieved, then laughs boisterously. “You caught me, I love that pillar of justice!”

“Ugh, no!” you groan, head sinking into your hands. “I can’t believe you’re into that obnoxious meathead!”

“Haha… Wait, what?”

#Toshinori Yagi #toshinori x reader #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero x reader #all might x reader #my writing #yes I find a way to bring frankenstein into it

407 notes · View notes

simplyyeol · 5 years ago

Text

back then (when we used to)

—pairing; byun baekhyun x reader

—genre; fluff, college! au, childhood friends to nobodies to lovers! au lmao

—tws; swearing

—word count; 16.439 (whew)

—synopsis; when push comes to shove, and baekhyun suddenly appears in your life again taking your heart as he walked along the road beside you, you wonder if you really could have a happily ever after, with him, just like back then, when you used to.

—author’s note; hi guys! it’s me, cough, aj. you probably all forgot who i am right? well anyways! i made this after a long time of not writing since im on break. thank you all so much for the love you’ve given me so far. it means the world to me. i hope you love this one as much as my last work. thank you so much for supporting me !!11!11 (ugly cries)

“I mean, Baekhyun is cute and all, but I don’t know why you like like him that much if you haven’t even had a proper conversation with him,” Sehun explains as he takes a sip of his orange juice. “It seems kind of... farfetched, you know?” You roll your eyes as you take a bite of your sandwich. “Don’t be a drama queen.”

“I mean! Why don’t you like someone like...” he taps his chin in thought, fork stabbing through the lettuce leaves before he looks back to you, signature smirk in place. “Jongdae.”

You choke on the food.

“He’s pretty cute. And he’s really nice too. He’s even on the baseball team with Baekhyun and you guys seem to get along well. It’s a win-win situation.”

You shrug. “He’s cool, but he’s just a friend. And since when do you care about my love life?”

“Nonexistent love life,” he snarkily corrects and you stick your tongue at him.

“And you’re some best friend. Totally supporting me in my silent love affair.”

“I’m being realistic,” he defends, shrugging.

“And a horrible best friend,” you retort, grimly.

“Maybe you’re just going through this phase—” he starts.

“Okay, look,” you interject, dropping your sandwich on the table. “I have a crush on one of the star players of our college’s team. That just makes me one of the many of the girls fantasizing to be her. That’s all it is. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna throw myself at him and forget who I actually am or some stupid shit like that.” You narrow your eyes at him and pick up your sandwich. “Period.” And then you take a bite.

Sehun drops his fork in his bowl, the clatter ringing even through all the chatter in the cafe. “Wow, Y/N.”

“What?” you bark, bread in mouth, so it sounds more like ‘mwa.’ Even if Sehun is monotone in basically everything that comes out of his stupid mouth, you can hear the smirk.

He shakes his head. “Nevermind. But... since we’re already on this road. You know Park Chanyeol.”

You nod and swallow. “Yeah. Why?”

“Well, he gave me two tickets to his game since Mina and I were gonna go, but you know...” he trailed off and you look at him. He just broke up again with Mina. His now ex. They have an on and off relationship. You don’t really get it.

“I dunno,” you say, eyes flitting from the table to his face. You didn’t want him to go alone, sure, but more often than not, when he takes you to these kind of things, he usually gets sidetracked and well, forgets about you.

“Oh, come on, I won’t leave you this time, I swear,” he says, fist slamming the table.

“Sehun,” you breathe, talking to him as if he was a child. “You said that last time for that basketball guy’s party. And do you remember what happened then?”

His eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. Apparently your best friend has horrible memory as well.

“You went home with Mina, asshole,” you spit. “And yes, you are my bestfriend and deserve the best romantic life, but you can’t just leave me. Jeez, you’re heartless, Sehun.”

“I won’t leave you this time,” he pleads once more, puppy eyes now in place, hands placed together under his chin. “Please, noona?”

You stick your tongue out at him and continue with your sandwich.

“Oh, come on, I want to go with my bestest friend in the world, and not anyone else. And we’ll have so much fun and I won’t even leave your side, or anything, and as a bonus! I will personally get you a jersey as an added bonus with a certain Byun printed on the back.”

Your eyes flicked to his for a split second at the sound of a certain man’s name.

“I can even arrange a chance at the after party for the two of us, so you can have some even more fun. There’s gonna be free drinks too!” he tries.

You raise an eyebrow at this offer.

“Free food, too!” he chimes.

“We’ll see,” is your final answer.

His straight posture is slumped at your answer, pout adorning his face as he dejectedly looked at his salad that was a part of his so-called, healthy diet, that he put together himself. His eyes flicked to yours as you took another bite of your BLT.

You waved it at him. “Want some?”

He looks back to his salad before dropping his fork and stretching his hand out. You hand the sandwich to him and he takes a few bites before giving it back to you.

The rest of lunch is spent in light banter, talk about classes and upcoming finals.

The two of you have been close since the start of college after there was a mix up in the dorm distribution and you ended up in the only co-ed dorm in college. With a playboy of course. You would think you’d somehow fall in love with him, but the boy being two years your dongsaeng, the spark was never there. He became a little brother figure who you could bully whenever he came over to you to gush about his new girlfriend at how pretty she is. It’s cute enough to pinch his cheeks like you were a distant relative who claimed to used to change Sehun’s diapers. He hated it, which is exactly why you loved it.

He doesn’t bring up the game until you see Byun Baekhyun walk through the cafe doors. You being the shy person that you are, immediately duck your head and finish the rest of your sandwich in one bite, and stand up announcing your departure to Sehun.

“What? I’m not finished yet, wait another minute. We’ll go together.”

“Uh, I actually forgot I’ve got to meet a friend before class starts,” you explain, twisting and untwisting your fingers, eyes locked on Baekhyun’s figure that was currently walking towards you and Sehun’s table, which was conveniently in front of the register.

Sehun looks at you, nose scrunched then looking somewhere behind you, and then it dawned on him, your predicament. “Oh,” he breathes.

And Sehun being the asshole he is calls Byun Baekhyun over. You never wanted more for the ground to open up and swallow you whole than at this moment.

“Hey, Sehun, what’s up?” Baekhyun says, his honey voice rolling over you in waves. You couldn’t leave due to the iron grip Sehun had on your wrist, caging you and erasing all attempts of escape.

“Hey, hyung. I just needed an opinion. Do you know, Y/N?” Sehun nods to you and you freeze as Baekhyun finally sees you. You hold your breath, waiting for the answer on the tips of your toes even though you were the one who didn’t want it.

His eyes lock with yours and you see the warmth even standing nowhere close to him. You see the small mole on top of his lip, the bridge of his nose, the cherry pink of his lips and all you can think is how he hasn’t changed one bit.

His eyes flit down to your wrist in Sehun’s hand and you quickly pull it away. Sehun doesn’t hold you back. And then he’s looking away as fast as he saw you, and you miss the warmth that he brought with just a look but you’re glad for the lack of his fierce gaze on you alone.

He hums. “Yeah, I know Y/N. We went to the same middle school but you probably already know that,” he states matter of factly. You purse your lips. Sehun didn’t know that.

Sehun’s jaw goes slack. “Wait, what?” He turns to you, eyes narrowed. “You never told me that!”

“Uhhh—” you dumbly respond as Baekhyun looks between the two of you.

“Right, I just wanted to know,” Sehun clears his throat, grasping Baekhyun’s attention once again, “if we could come to the party after the game?”

“Oh, you’re coming to the game?” He poses the question towards the both of you, but he only looks at you.

“Well, I’m going, but Y/N doesn’t know yet—”

“You should come,” Baekhyun states simply, looking into the depths of your soul. Your heart beats just the tiniest bit faster.

“I’ll see,” you mutter under your breath.

“Well, I’ll see you guys later then?” Baekhyun waves, the corner of his lips raised, and eyes sparkling in a way that only fits Baekhyun.

Sehun’s arm falls on your shoulder as he rises to his full height, effectively breaking you out of the haze that Baekhyun put on you unknowingly. You scowl at him as you grab your backpack.

“How come you never told me this precious piece of information that came from Baekhyun himself. I’m so disappointed in you,” he remarks as you exit the cafe. You dare not look back.

You shrug, a small shiver running up your spine from the breeze. “It never came up.”

“Bullshit. This stuff is already supposed to be established in our,” he motions exasperatedly in the space between the two of you, “relationship.”

You snort. “I’m not dating you.”

“We’re best friends!”

“That we are,” you deadpan.

“Were you guys only classmates?” he inquires, shoving his hands in his pockets and blowing out a breath.

“If you’re asking if we dated, no. But we were friends, I guess.”

An understatement but you don’t say.

Starting middle school in a whole new city was overwhelming to say the least. Having just moved to Seoul was already climbing in on itself over you. The whole car ride you refused to meet your parent’s eye on the trip to your new house. They pointed out famous landmarks and beautiful scenery of the ocean on the way, and yet, you refused, the stubborn 11-year old side of you coming out, as you blinked the tears away, never letting them fall.

And then came Baekhyun, a whirlwind of a boy, all smiling, eyes crescents, and hair a raven-colored ruffled. He flew into your life and you were grateful to him. He suddenly became a staple in your life but really you should’ve seen it coming sooner.

As fast as he entered, he left, and you didn’t like to think about whether it was your fault or his. One day, he stopped trying. Avoiding you, or maybe he just became too busy for you. He grew out of the pre-teen Baekhyun, a child in and of itself and became the popular teen Baekhyun who suddenly became the star of your junior high. You drifted apart, as Baekhyun entered the spotlight and you steered towards the sidelines, suddenly becoming a wallflower in Baekhyun’s life. And then you weren’t in it anymore. But you watched him grow up and everytime you passed him in the hallways in highschool and eventually college, a part of your heart clenched, happy that he was happy and sad because you couldn’t share that happiness with him.

Sehun saw the lingering glances, the almost spoken hello’s to the star player and deemed that you had a crush. He wasn’t wrong so you never corrected him.

“Earth to Y/N?” Sehun called, hand waving in front of your vision. You blinked, slowly turning over to him. “Blanked out there, for a little. You good?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Just thinking.”

“About a Byun Baekhyun?”

“Shut up,” you mumble and he snickers.

A few beats of silence pass as you walk side to side, shoulders brushing against each other.

“You’re not telling me something,” he says.

“No,” you respond.

“Yes,” he retorts.

“Whatever you say.”

“I’ll get it out of you, sometime. I already have a lead.”

“What? Are you Sherlock?” you tease, lips quirked.

He slides in front of you and you stop watching as he dumbly salutes, fingers all crooked. “Holmes, reporting for duty,” he announces.

You laugh and then he smiles.

Most of the spots are filled when you enter the auditorium, a mess of hair, clothes and Y/N.

You spit out some of the hair caught in your mouth, which probably happened somewhere between where you left the pet store, your part-time job, in a hurry after seeing the time and from now, where you stood, just barely making it into class as the professor entered through the adjacent door . You got a little carried away with the new puppers that had just arrived and that was all your fault. Not that you regretted it, though.

The professor set up his laptop, plugging in wires and setting papers aside, that you really hoped weren’t of the test you took last week. You scrambled to your regular seat, right next to the TA, Kim Minseok’s desk, and next to Kim Jongdae.

You dipped your head in greeting at Jongdae as you slipped past him to the seat and muttered your ‘hello’ to Minseok who waved you back.

“Please don’t tell me those are our tests from last week,” you say to absolutely no one.

Jongdae, from beside you, hears this and turns to you. “Those are totally not our tests from last week.”

“Those are totally your tests from last week,” Minseok pipes from the other side of you. You swivel towards him, lips pursed, frown in place.

“Is it bad?” you ask, grimly.

“Can’t say,” he grins.

“A hint?” you egg and Jongdae echoes your question.

Minseok shakes his head no and points towards the front just as the professor starts speaking. You melt into your seat, hoping that time would tick just the tiniest bit faster, if only to finish this hell you’re in.

45 minutes pass, not that you’re counting every second of it but you just happen to see after sneaking a glance at the clock hung on the opposite wall, when the professor finally announces the very dreadful thing that has you in a slump.

“And now for your tests!”

A series of groans echo your sentiments and you wait as he calls out the names of the other students, fists clenched, nails digging into the skin of your palm. He goes through a few people before stopping on the nervous human sitting right next to you.

“Kim Jongdae!” he calls and you give a pitiful look at Jongdae as he stands up to retrieve it. His face looks almost like a kicked puppy. The professor hands him the paper, says something, that you can’t hear (distance), or read (bad eyesight), but there’s a smile on his face. You sit at the edge of your seat waiting as Jongdae gets closer to you, his eyes lighting up as he reads the grade and when he comes to stand next to you, showing it to you, a cheshire-grin stretching across his lips.

Your jaw drops. “An A? That’s amazing!” He has his hand out towards yours and you high-five it, smiling for him. You sit back down waiting your turn, back straight, hairs raised.

“Y/N!”

You get up, walking as fast as your legs could take you, grasping the paper with eager hands. The professor smiles and says that it was better than your last and then your walking back, not daring to peak at the letter.

“Did you see it?” Jongdae calls when you get back to your seat.

You shake your head. “Can’t. You do it.”

You hand the paper to Jongdae and he chuckles leaning over. He faces the paper towards you, back slanting so he’s looking at it as well.

“A B!” you cry.

“An 89!” he exclaims.

“If you round up,” you start excitedly.

“An A!” he finishes.

“Yes!” you yell, fist pumping in the air and once again before exchanging another set of high-fives.

The two of you sit back at your seats ruffling through your tests exchanging answers for the questions you got wrong. The teacher rambles on about how well you all did this time, much better than the last. You paid it no attention, though, wincing as you saw another question you got wrong. You even remember studying about that one!

“Okay, students!” the teacher finally announces and you look up, setting the paper down on the table. “You’ll be doing a project—”

A series of groans cut him off.

“Now, now don’t be like that. It gets even better; you’ll be doing it in partners! The person next to you should do—oh! Would you look at the time? I better be off! Class dismissed!”

The screeching of chairs being pushed in, the mull of the chatter of students, and the scratching of pencils on paper fill the silence that the teacher brought and you stared at Jongdae, dumbfounded. And Jongdae stared at you.

“Is this real?” you breathed, voice ragged.

“I really hope not,” he answers back. “Maybe it's all just a dream.”

“More so a nightmare,” you remark.

Minseok snickers at the two of you. “Don’t be dramatic and get out of here, you two.”

You frown at Minseok as he shoots you out of the auditorium with the rest of the lingering students. You handle your bag, throwing it over your shoulder, carelessly, before turning to Jongdae who walked to your side with another classmate.

You wait for a gap in their conversation before pulling Jongdae away. “Do you have class right now?”

He shakes his head. “No, you?”

You mirror him, before cocking your thumb behind you, head tilted. “Library?”

“Better now than never,” he grins.

Jongdae steps off to the side when someone asks him something about plans on Friday night. You tell him you’ll save him a seat and wave before leaving, begrudgingly thinking about the fact that you wished to have plans on Friday night, ugh.

The library is vacant, spare the few students like you who thought to actually use it other than the librarian that no one ever sees. You tensely smile at a girl who you really can’t remember the name of but told her that one time in that one class after she made eye contact with you. A second later, though, no later, you looked away, wincing because if that wasn’t awkward.

The tables in the library were settled in clusters if you make your way through the library, high shelves of the paperback on your left, and non-fiction on the right. It’s almost like a maze as you enter the space, and really it's no surprise, when you spot ten people. Max.

You take a seat at the nearest empty table, pulling out your textbook and your laptop. It only takes a minute for you to get sidetracked after you tap in your password the already open tab of Twitter pulling you in.

It wasn’t your fault really! The posts kept rolling in and sucking you deeper and when finally your throat felt parched and you took a sip of water, checking the time, still not seeing Jongdae, did you see half an hour had already passed.

“The fuck is the dude, doing?” you mutter under your breath, opening a seperate tab for your email. The chair across from you screeches and you think, finally, before your eyes land on the person currently sat across from you.

His hair was ruffled and the tip of his nose and cheeks were blushing red, as if he ran. And it wasn’t Jongdae.

“Oh,” he mumbles, more to himself. “Y/N.” A deep breath then, “hey.”

“Oh, um, Baekhyun. Hi,” you dumbly respond, stomach flipping at the sight of him. Your tongue had the sudden urge to fail you at the moment, barely making the cut.

“Sorry, to, um, bother your studying,” he starts, eyes flickering to your open screen which displayed the email log-in page. Thank god he did not see your Twitter account. Maybe you would have actually died. “But, uh, I’ll just sit here for a few minutes and then leave.”

The way he’s fidgeting in his seat makes it seem like he’s trying to avoid someone. “Oh, okay. That’s, um, fine?”

His eyes narrow at you as you purse your lips. Awkward. You are very awkward and you know that. You shuffle in your seat when he looks away and chuckles silently. “Thanks,” he says.

A few beats pass before you deem it awkward enough to drag your laptop closer to you, and look through the few emails that were unread in your inbox. Okay, lie. You weren’t actually reading. It was more so that your eyes skimmed over the same from email at fifteen times, your brain not registering the contact.

Baekhyun apparently decided to break the ice, starting with a deep breath. “So, what class are you working for?”

“Um, microbiology. I’ve got this partner essay and decided to get started on it,” you explain, biting your lip from a nervousness that you’re not sure the cause of.

“Partner?” he asks.

“Yeah... partner,” you repeat, thinking that he needed clarification.

“Oh, are you waiting for them?”

You nod. “He was literally right behind me too, jeez, what is he doing?” you ramble, picking up your phone and searching for Jongdae’s contacts.

Baekhyun doesn’t say anything else as you type a text to a certain essay partner.

jongdae!!!!

You set the phone back down on the table and sneak a peek at Baekhyun who looks, even at a first glance, stressed. Eye circles ring underneath his eyes, the hint of purple tinting his fair skin. His eyes look puffy, like he just took a nap, even though it's the middle of the day, and your heart clenches at the thought that he doesn’t get enough sleep. You notice the way his fingers drum silently along the table, his teeth worrying his chapped lips, like he’s always doing that. Maybe a habit...?

“Are you... okay?” The question comes tumbling out of your mouth in a hushed whisper, like some dirty secret that can’t be revealed. Your eyes rake over him with worry as he looks at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

He’s wary, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly as he forms an answer. “What do you mean?” he finally responds. Answering a question with a question.

“You look tired,” you point, motioning to the undersides of his eyes.

He winces, hands fisted as he rubs his eyes, laughing half-heartedly. “It’s nothing. Just got a big game to prep for—speaking of,” and then his eyes turn to you, determined, fiery, fist placed on the table and any sign of tiredness in his eyes vanished. “Are you going to come to the game?”

“Uh—”

“You’re going to the game?”

Your head whips towards the side as Jongdae strolls in to the area, nonchalant. You take your pen and whip it at him with all the aim you could muster at such a short notice.

“I’m sorry!” he yells as he catches the pen and holds it to his heart before gently setting it down on the table a distance away from your hand.

“Thirty minutes,” you huff, as Jongdae takes a seat beside you. His attention turns toward Baekhyun who looks between the two of you. You can’t tell what the furrow of his brows or the scrunch of his nose conveys.

Jongdae ignores your complaint and addresses Baekhyun. You turn away pointedly, hands crossed over your chest, lip slightly jutted.

“What are you doing in the library, Baekhyun?” Jongdae questions.

“Um, just, you know, talking to Y/N—”

“Is that Eunha?” Jongdae interjects, leaning over the table, jaw dropped.

“Who?” you ask, curious.

“Yeah, who?” Baekhyun repeats, feigning innocence. You see the way, he blinks at Jongdae owlishly, and his straight posture.

“Your ex-girlfriend, Eunha! Is that why—”

Baekhyun’s over at Jongdae’s side in an instant, hand clamping over the blabbermouth’s mouth, looking around the library maniacally to see if anyone overheard. You choke, not sure what to feel about the new information, but when she leaves out of view, you figure it's her since she is the only one there that wasn’t there a moment ago. You look towards the two idiots at your side.

And if that wasn’t any worse, Eunha suddenly reappeared again right in front of you three. And she looked Baekhyun up and down, and then it was Jongdae. And lastly you.

With her sleek black hair sectioned off into braids, her makeup flawless, and her clothes without a single crinkle in them, you envied her from head to toe.

“Baekhyun what are you doing? Really? Running away?” She gives Baekhyun an incredulous look as he retracts his hand from Jongdae’s mouth, sheepish look pasted on his face.

“Um, actually—” he starts.

“Seriously, I just wanted to talk. I won’t bite,” she promises taking a step closer. You see Baekhyun’s eyes flit to anywhere but Eunha, and then you see him take a step closer to Jongdae, his hand suddenly coming down onto Jongdae’s shoulder. Hard.

“I’m dating Jongdae!”

Eunha’s jaw drops open, you choke on air, Jongdae shrieks and falls out of his chair, and Baekhyun colors a scarlet in the next few moments as crickets chirp through the library.

“What?” Eunha breathes, looking as if she just got slapped in the face. And in this case, you felt that it would have been a better situation. “You’re dating—” she stopped mid-sentence, closing her eyes, straightening her back, and taking a long, deep breath. “Jongdae? Is he lying?”

You watch as Baekhyun pinches Jongdae’s back as he opens his mouth, and proceeds to say the words that you are just dying to hear with some popcorn in hand. “Uh... no.”

Eunha’s eyes are almost about to fall out her head as she looks between the two of them. Baekhyun laughs a small laugh, pressing his index finger to his lips, and shushing Eunha. She barks a laugh, hikes her bag up her shoulder, and stomps out of the clearing.

Jongdae’s chair is thrown to the side courtesy his legs as he stands, towering over Baekhyun. “What the fuck—”

Baekhyun claps his hands together in front of his face, eyes clenched together. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” he squeaks.

“I should’ve just let you suffer—”

“—and I am so, so grateful you didn’t—”

“—in pain. Why the hell do I—”

“Coffee, for a month?” Baekhyun pleads.

Jongdae narrows his eyes at Baekhyun. “Two.”

“One and a half?”

“One and three weeks.”

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, plopping into the chair next to you before turning to meet your eyes. “I am so dead.”

You smile. “I didn’t know you were gay.”

“Y/N!” he whines. “You know what? I am leaving, I have had way too much drama for today, and I feel my wrinkles popping out, god dammit.”

He walks away from the table as you erupt into snickers and Jongdae hollers an ‘8:45 AM sharp!’ after him.

“Don’t be late! I have class first thing and need my supply!”

Baekhyun doesn’t turn around, opting to flip off Jongdae, back still turned. Jongdae swears at him, and you laugh even harder.

What you don’t see is the small smile gracing Baekhyun’s lips as he exits the library doors, a little skip in his step.

Having to take an advanced sociology class for your major made absolutely no sense other than the fact that the people, whoever they were, that assigned the classes, were absolute idiots. You would know since you’re always surrounded by them.

The class ran for two terms but you only needed one, joining in at the beginning of the second this year. Everyone already had managed to find a place to sit, some people to work with, and a nice view of the screen in front of the room. You just wedged into some seats with some of the more friendlier looking girls and somehow managed to blend in to the wall, only needing a passing grade for this class.

You didn’t know many people in this class, but you at least recognized their faces. And that guy sitting at your desk with the suspicious looking hood was not one of them. You stood a few feet away from him, wondering if you should demand your seat back or just sit next to him. Or in front.

But that’s your seat.

Well. Your inability to communicate with people caught up to you and you took a seat right next to him.

It wasn’t until the end of class that you figured out who he was. You could hear a faint purr from the hooded boy next to you, his pencil strewn next to his head that was lain on the table carelessly. A string of drool marked the paper and you chuckled. But you couldn’t judge. That would be you today if it weren’t for the fact he was giving apparently important information from the girl on your right.

You pondered on the thought if you should just leave him, but if class had finished while you were sleeping you would want someone to wake you up. What if he had a class after this?

You drew closer to him and tapped his shoulder. “Hey. Wake up. Class is over.”

The boy groaned, shifted in his seat the tiniest bit, and continued sleeping. You tapped him a bit harder this time. “Hey. Hey. Wake up.”

You checked the time on your phone, before placing it back on the table. Taking your time, you placed your notebook back in your bag and zipped it up before tossing a look back to the boy. Still sleeping. The pencil and pen in your bag as well. Another look. Not even a little.

Boy, was this kid tired.

You tried again, and again, with even more force and smiled when the guy stirred, blinking his eyes, movements hazy. He smacked his lips a few times before finally moving his head up and locking eyes with you.

“Baekhyun?”

“Y/N?”

“You take this class?” you both said in unison.

A look passed between the two of you, as you blinked and he started giggling with you following shortly after.

“I take this class, but I’m pretty sure you don’t,” you finally say, smile placed on your lips.

“I owed my friend one and filled in for the day to take some notes.”

You snickered before motioning to the side of your face, your fingers ghosting your skin. “You have drool here.”

“What?” he squawks, hands wiping the opposite side of his face.

You shake your head. “Other side.”

He pulls the sleeve of his hoodie up and finding the drool, quickly wiping it off before embarrassingly pulling his hoodie on his head tighter.

“What’s with the get up?” you question, as Baekhyun grabs his notebook and you grab your backpack, both walking towards the door.

A group of students brush passed you and you notice how Baekhyun makes sure to duck his head down as he whispers to you. “You didn’t hear...?”

“Hear what? you whisper back.

He pouts at you and you shrug. “The rumors?” he tries again.

You filter through any gossip Sehun might’ve told you about in the past few days and come up blank. “Nothing,” you state.

He groans, hand coming up to slide down his face. “Come on, man. The rumors?” he harshly whispers, face turned towards you whilst walking, hands outstretched at his sides, and eyes blown out.

You suck in a harsh breath as he comes closer to your face, and that weird feeling in your chest blooms again. Almost like an eruption of lava, but more lowkey. A good volcanic eruption.

“Me being gay?”

He pulls back when he sees your lips pursed, smile begging to be released. “Oh, from when—”

“Oh my god,” he groans, walking faster in front of you.

“Okay, okay, sorry, I won’t laugh!” you exclaim, speeding up your pace and walking next to him. He took a look at the twinkle in your eyes and the smile playing on your lips and huffs before looking away. Drama queen.

“Seriously!” you repeat again. “Okay, wait, wait, slow down a little.”

He begrudgingly complies, hands now folded over his chest as you swing your backpack to your front and bring out your notebook. You zip it up and he sneaks a glance before voicing his curiosity. “What’s that for?”

You shoot him a smile. “Your favor?”

His eyes widen. “Oh shit! I fell asleep!”

“That you did, but I take pity and give you this.”

You hand him the notebook and he takes it, hand almost brushing yours but you can’t tell from how fast its gone even though the aftermath leaves your heart beating a mile a minute. You don’t even notice.

“You are an angel,” he breathes and sends you the most breathtaking smile that you think he could ever send you.

“Your welcome,” you state, voice soft.

“Thank you,” he says back.

You continue walking, where? You don’t know. But you move closer to him as he opens the notebook and you show him the pages that you wrote down today. You stop at a small bench on the side of the hallway where Baekhyun sets it down and takes pictures of the pages.

He slides his glasses up when they fall off his nose, before tapping the screen to make sure that its readable. You watch to the side as he ruffles through the pages make sure he got everything. His bangs falling over his eyes, and he shakes his head, the hair stubbornly staying put.

“Baekhyun!” someone calls from the side. You look over and recognize him to be from the baseball team. You forgot his name, though. Something starting with Jong but you weren’t sure. He jogs over to Baekhyun, talking about a late baseball practice and where the hell he’s been.

Baekhyun looked sheepish as Jong-something scolds him, calling him hyung and you can’t help but smile at the interaction.

“Oh right, that reminds me!” Baekhyun turns towards you suddenly and you feel warm under his and Jong-something’s (Jongin? Is that his name?) gaze. “Are you still not sure about the game?”

You inhale, looking at the way, Baekhyun pulls out his lower lip just the slightest and how it looks adorable (you’re cringing on the inside at your thoughts) on him. “Uh... yeah. Still don’t know,” you mutter.

“Well,” Baekhyun says, looking straight at you and placing his hand on your shoulder, “I hope you come.”

And then he sends you a smile and you feel your heart strings tugging at each other as he turns around, jogging to the rest of the team. Jongdae shoots you a small smile when he sees you and you wave back but then he’s gone.

It’s not until a good twenty minutes later do you remember that Baekhyun didn’t give you your notebook. You rushed back to the bench where you saw it last. It wasn’t there also.

Well, shit. You’re screwed for that test next week.

hey, this is Y/N. i don’t have your number so i’m texting you though sehun’s.

You read over the text and groan. Why would he care if you have his number or not—of course you don’t. Delete.

uhhh, anyways, do you still have that notebook you took pictures of? I can't remember if I took it back or not haha

‘uhhh, anyways’ is too awkward, dammit. Delete that as well.

hey this is Y/N. do you still have my notebook you took pictures of? I can't remember if I took it back or not haha

Okay, okay. Not bad, straight to the point. A little laugh in the end to ease the awkwardness. Hit send, Y/N, before you freak out even more. You press the blue button and thrust the phone back into Sehun’s hand before diving into your pasta. Nothing like food to hit your biggest worries.

“You’re such a coward, worrying about texting him,” Sehun snarks, tapping on the screen.

You glare at him, mouth stuffed, and he glances a look at you, smirking at your appearance. “Ass,” you mutter.

“That’s me.”

The door to the cafe jingles open and it's almost like a fairy tale when your eyes dart to the customer in the almost empty restaurant, with you sitting directly in sight of the door, and lock eyes with Baekhyun.

“Oh, Y/N! Sehun!” he exclaims, waving at the two of you with his signature smile, fingers straight as a stick, gaps wide between them in that weird way he waves at people (he still makes it cute).

You smile a small smile, and Sehun gives a weird ass cool nod that Baekhyun takes a greeting does a weird nod back. He pulls a chair from the empty table next to you, dropping the bag and sitting in the middle, your left, Sehun’s right. His side profile was astonishing.

You looked back to your food, taking another bite, as they engaged in baseball talk, wallowing about whether or not you should bring up the elephant in your room.

Thankfully, Baekhyun, ever the one with many gifts from God, looks towards you abruptly, slamming his hand on the table. You flinch, eyes startled to his, wide in shock, almost mirroring his.

He chuckles and you clamp your lips and relax your posture, eyes drifting away. Well, that’s embarrassing.

“Sorry,” he snickers. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“She’s a coward. She’s always scared,” Sehun interjects.

“No one asked you,” you retort, throwing the closest object to you (a napkin) hoping it would hit him straight in the eye (it didn’t; it floated to a stop in the middle of the table).

“Anyways, your notebook. It’s in my locker, I totally forgot to give it back, my bad.” His hand comes up to unconsciously rub at the back of his neck and you inwardly coo at the small pout on his—no! ”If you want, we can go now to the lockers since I have practice. Do you have a class?”

Your mind went blank for some strange reason and the only thing that came out was an “uh...”

Sehun, the sometimes-angel he is, saves you and you are so very grateful. “She doesn’t.”

Baekhyun looks between you and Sehun, an unrecognizable expression on his face, before his lips turn into a smile. “Great!”

He makes small talk while you finish your food, helping Sehun occasionally on the essay he was pumping out. He leaned over Sehun’s shoulder, his glasses slipping down his nose, and his eyebrows scrunched as they glazed over the screen. He’d gotten annoyed from his bangs that he clipped them up exposing his forehead, and—oh god, what is wrong with you.

“Okay!” you announce, a little too high pitched and chair screeching back at a screech that resonated through the empty shop. You freeze, coughing awkwardly when Baekhyun looks up at you through his circle lenses and Sehun snickers in the back. You chuckle, smile tense, before grabbing your backpack in light speed, fixing your jacket.

You cock your finger back towards the door, and tilt your head. “Sehun are you coming? Let’s go.” Your heart pounds—probably because you made a fool of yourself. Sehun shrugs before packing his stuff, Baekhyun following.

Sehun and Baekhyun, with their longer legs and faster pace, strode in front of you on the too thin sidewalk. You lingered behind sometimes joining in on the conversation but you felt as if you’d interrupt them with all the sporty jock language they were using.

You just decided to stare at Baekhyun. And admire. And daydream about what it would be like to marry and have tiny babies together. But at the moment. Admire.

Even the back of his head was adorable, added to the fact he was wearing the team’s hat and hoodie combined. Really, whoever designed them was genius. Baekhyun looks absolutely swallowed, only the tips of his fingers peeking out from the sweater paws.

“Y/N? Earth to Y/N?” Sehun knocks on your head, and your eyes immediately snap towards his the moment Baekhyun’s eyes meet yours. “Is the back of his head that fascinating?”

“Wh-what? No, what the—” you end up smacking Sehun feeling the nape of your neck warming up and letting your hair curtain over your face on the side that Baekhyun faced towards you.

“Woah, there, no need to get violent, I was just joking,” he intonates the last word, a smirk voiced and you glare up at him hoping your message traveled light years fast. You take back what you said about him being a sometimes-angel. He’s the devil reincarnate.

Baekhyun laughed his small cute laugh like ’hahaha’ and said something about zoning out. You nodded dumbly and continued to trail along with him.

“As I was saying...” Sehun says, hand waving in the air nonchalantly, “Y/N’s just using me as an excuse for leaving her at the game because she’s probably just embarrassed that she doesn’t want to miss the new episode of Extraordinary You—ow! What was that for?”

You smile up at him, lips pursed, words venomous, “what?”

He looks away, pouting muttering how you’re a big fat meanie. Baby.

“Oh Extraordinary You is so good. Are you caught up with all the episodes? I haven’t had time to watch the last two,” Baekhyun comments and your neck snaps as you look up at him.

“Oh, uh...” with the thought that he didn’t find it embarrassing that you spend your free time watching romantic dramas that could never actually happen in real life, you spoke up. “I’m caught up.” You still mentally threw Sehun into the pits of hell where he belonged.

Sehun snorts as Baekhyun hums.

A curious smile peaks over the edges of Baekhyun’s lips as he looks at Sehun. “Why... is it weird or something?”

“No, just, she thinks that she’s uncool to watch dramas twenty-four seven—mmmph—what are you—!”

Your hand stays at Sehun’s side as you smile at Baekhyun. “Just ignore him. He spouts bullshit twenty-four seven,” you give a pointed look towards Sehun at the end.

Baekhyun laughs. “Okay, then.”

“He spouts bullshit twenty-four seven,” Sehun imitates, voice pitches higher.

“I don’t talk like that!”

The walk to the locker rooms aren’t too far, just outside the school campus. It’s only a 10-minute walk from the food court area and you’re there in no time.

Luhan from the baseball team, which you know of from how much he frequents your apartment to hang out with Sehun, stole the younger boy, stating that they’d be back in a minute after stepping out of the locker rooms. You sat on the bench in the middle of the locker rooms while Baekhyun shuffled through his lockers that was packed to the brim.

“I’m not usually this messy,” Baekhyun mumbles as he takes out another bundle of what looks like an old sport jacket. “I’ve just been really busy these days,” he adds.

“It’s fine, take your time,” you commented, twiddling your fingers.

A few boys stepped in to the locker room, and you looked up briefly recognizing their faces but not their names.

“Oh, Baekhyun?” one of them called. “You brought a girl into the locker rooms? You never did that with anyone, even Eunha.” The two at his sides snickered and you watched as Baekhyun’s ears turned red at the implications.

“It’s not like that,” Baekhyun barked as he continued ruffling through his lockers. “They’re idiots, don’t listen to them.”

You chuckle softly. “Okay.”

“Found it!” he grins, spinning it around and holding it out towards you.

“Oh, cool, thanks,” you state, taking the book from him.

“Yeah, but I should be telling you that,” he chuckles. “Why do you use a notebook anyway? Laptops are a thing, you know?”

“Yeah, but I like writing the stuff. It helps me remember everything,” you say, stuffing the notebook into your bag.

Baekhyun hums. “Good point, but the hand cramps are so not worth it.”

You shrug it off. “Whatever, Byun.”

“Hey, Baekhyun! Practice is starting. Your girlfriend can stay if she wants, I already asked coach,” one of the boys called.

Your face warms up at the title, and you’re meek ‘I’m not his girlfriend’ is muted by the raucous of the other boys coming in. Baekhyun sends you a shy smile and shakes his head. “Again, idiots, but you can stay if you want.”

“No, it’s alright,” you breathe, “I have class anyways, so it’s time I go. Can you remind Sehun to buy dinner, and say no chicken, please?”

“Yeah, sure. Isn’t his phone broken or something like that?”

“He’s an idiot also.”

“Looks like everyone on this team is an idiot.”

You hum, thinking over the words, one thought shining brightly in the midst of all the others.

The next thing you say is totally uncalled for and if you were in a less delirious state and not around Byun Baekhyun, it would’ve never escaped your mouth. “You’re not, though. That’s why I l love—”

Baekhyun suddenly frowns and your heart drops. You idiot! Why would you say something like that? What if he—shit. You totally messed up. The whole getting to know him, shit, shit, shit. You totally messed up. He doesn’t have time to respond as one of the boys steals him, shoveling him out of the room, throwing you a beaming smile in compensation. You can’t seem to reciprocate.

The locker room is awfully quiet, now.

It has been exactly one day since you spilled your mouth in front of Baekhyun and it has been exactly one day since you have regretted saying that. You saw him this morning, at the coffee shop down the street. He was just minding his own business, looking through his phone while taking a few sips of his drink here and there when you accidentally bumped into him. Nothing precarious happened, like you fell into his arms or his coffee spilled all over your shirt and he let you wear his spare.

No. You blushed as red as a tomato and stuttered a sorry, before scurrying off like a mouse at the stony gaze pointed directly at you.

Why did you even open your mouth and say something stupid like that? You weren’t an idiot. You knew what was implied with those words, and yet you had to go and say it. You probably ruined the friendship you had slowly progressed with Baekhyun, too. What a stupid person you are.

You walked in to the microbiology class with a huff, no regular coffee in hand as you were far too flummoxed after the run-in with Baekhyun to go back into the cafe. Jongdae had noticed something was off and shared a look with Minseok. The TA shrugged.

You made a small burrow surrounding yourself with first, your books, second, your water bottle, and third, your bag, making a small barrier that you wished would shield you from all the remorse you felt upon yourself. Once the professor had walked in and started the presentation, you pride yourself from behind the wall.

Your motions were robotic as you copied important things from the presentation, highlighted key concepts in your textbook, and answered questions prompted by the professor. But it was as if your mind and body were separate and your soul was nowhere to be found.

At the end of class, the professor had called you and Jongdae up, mentioning something about the project.

You forlornly walked up beside Jongdae, the scuffling of your feet earning another worried stare from the boy.

“Y/N, Jongdae, I just wanted to note that since there’s a new student in the class, and an odd number of people, I would like for him to work with you,” the professor explains.

You nod numbly. Jongdae questions as to who.

“Oh, he actually attend today’s class, I told him to meet me as well… oh, there he is!”

You felt someone sidle next to you and Jongdae shifted to look towards him. “Oh, Baekhyun!”

Your head snapped towards the side, and true to his words, Baekhyun stood to your side, not bothering you a glance. He smiled at Jongdae then at the professor, thanking him.

Jongdae glanced to you, your mouth agape. “Y/N, do you want to come with us?”

“H-huh?” you stutter as you look towards Jongdae. “Sorry, zoned out.”

“Yeah… uh, do you want to come with us for lunch? We’re having pizza,” Jongdae reiterates.

Your eyes flicker towards Baekhyun and sure enough, the cold stare from this morning and the last time you saw him were still there.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you, though,” you say, lips pulled in a tight smile.

“Oh, okay, then. See ya!” Jongdae grins, before turning towards Baekhyun who still stared at you. He nudged Baekhyun’s side. “Let’s go, then.”

His eyes are clouded as he looks at you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking and it makes your skin tingle from all the attention. He finally pulls them away from you and you let out the breath you were unknowingly holding. “Yeah, let’s go.”

What an idiot you are.

The smell of meat filled the room packed to the brim with college students. Baekhyun sat stuck in the middle of Chanyeol and Jongdae and was somehow appointed to the meat as he got the lowest runs during practice. The room was far too hot, even for Baekhyun and he grabbed the air conditioner remote, setting it at the coolest. The boys burst into raucous laughter at a story that Junmyeon was recalling but Baekhyun couldn’t find it in himself to laugh. He merely blinked as he flipped another piece of samgyeopsal.

His thoughts were running all over the place, like a hurricane. But it was all trained on you.

Like that one time when he’d been coming from his class, he’d somehow spotted you in the midst of the crowd. You yawned, pulling down the hood covering your face and he had to hold back a snort at the way your flyaways stuck up filled with static energy. He started walking towards you, wanting to pet down the hairs but he stopped midway. Why would he want to do that? And he stood there like a fool, in the middle of the courtyard staring as you walked away from him.

He’d seen you so many other times and each time you drew him in to you and he didn’t know what was happening. Why his heart sped up at the sight of you so much, as if it were about to burst out of his chest. Why he had the urge to hug the living daylights out of you at the sight of you, as if you were his lover and he was yours. Why he blushed whenever you complimented him like a lovesick teenage boy.

The not an idiot thing was the last straw. And what followed scared him to the deepest parts of his soul. You couldn’t just go around telling people those kinds of things with that much sincerity and stupid sparkle like you held the sun, stars, and meteorites in your eyes. It made him realize something. This whatever he felt, was different.

It felt like how he used to feel back when he would consider you his best friend in the skip of a beat if anyone asked. It felt like that, but even more. And it scared him.

It was different from anything he felt when he was with any one of his past girlfriends. It was similar but far too different to even be compared. It was much more than that.

Was it friendship? Was it attraction? Could it maybe be… love?

Chanyeol knocked his elbow into Baekhyun’s ribs, lightly. “Baek, the meat’s burning.”

“Shit,” Baekhyun muttered to himself, still in a daze. This could be called love, couldn’t it? He always went on and on about how, all the girls he’s dated, he’s never loved. His heart was never full enough whenever he was around them to even be considered love. But around you—

“Baek,” Chanyeol called more loudly, this time jolting Baekhyun.

Baekhyun snapped his head towards Chanyeol, voice clearer. “Shit.”

“Yes, shit, the meat is burning,” Chanyeol pointed out and it finally registered in Baekhyun’s mind as to where he was.

Baekhyun scrambled to save the meat, hurriedly flipping them, and blowing out a sigh as they were still edible.

“What’s wrong?” Chanyeol breathed, mouth full with meat. He placed a piece in a perilla leaf, adding a tiny dollop of ssamjang and placing it in Baekhyun’s hand.

Baekhyun takes it, mulling over the question. “I don’t know.” He put the wrap in his mouth, slowly chewing. “You know Y/N, right?”

Chanyeol nods, sipping his water and swallowing.

“What do you think about her?”

Chanyeol hums. “She’s nice. Why? Do you like her?”

Baekhyun chokes on the water he’s drinking. “What? Me? Like her?”

Chanyeol shrugs. “You asked me what I thought.”

“But I don’t like her,” he wrongfully states. The way those words fall out of his lips, every word placed in it, feels wrong.

“Didn’t she used to be your friend or something like that?” Chanyeol reasons, eyebrows furrowing.

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Okay, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol interjects, seeing the inner conflict and what exactly Baekhyun was trying to get at here. “I’m going to ask you three questions.”

Baekhyun stares at him, confused. “About what?”

“One.” Chanyeol holds up his index finger, ignoring his question. “Do you like spending time with Y/N?”

Baekhyun blinks but slowly nods. Over the past few weeks where your interactions with him have slowly raised, he realized that whatever time spent with you, whether it was just a few moments, or hours on end, he never despised it. He even sometimes looked forward to it. No matter how cold he acted towards you.

“Two.” Chanyeol pops another finger up. “Do you think she’s pretty?”

“W-what? How is that even… relevant—?”

“Answer the question, Byun.”

Baekhyun bites his lip. “Okay, yeah, she’s pretty, I guess.” This question doesn’t take long for him to answer. When you were little, Baekhyun always figured you were pretty with your blinding smile and sparkly eyes, and as you grow up, your features maturing and becoming more distinct, he’d say you’d become beautiful. In his eyes at least.

Chanyeol claps his hand, a smile spilling over his features. “Close your eyes for a minute.”

Baekhyun complies, albeit hesitantly, just in case this was just some prank and Chanyeol is just sneaking some raw garlic in his wrap. But Chanyeol’s words pull him in.

“You’re standing there, okay?”

Baekhyun imagines this well enough. He stood in the middle of a road that he’s never seen before, alone. He doesn’t know what Chanyeol’s point is but he doesn’t open his eyes just yet, intrigued as to what comes next.

“Y/N is there next to you,” his deep voice continues.

Baekhyun places you right in front of him. You’re standing there how he saw you the last time you crossed paths. Bundled up in an oversized hoodie, and jeans, your go to outfit everytime he sees you. Hair pulled into a low ponytail because as you said, it’s annoying when its down, and it hurts when it’s too high up. And only a touch of lip balm because makeup takes too much time and according to you, doesn’t fit you. He thinks you’d look pretty in anything—wait, no! This is exactly what he’s not supposed to be thinking. However, the butterflies in his stomach start to stir.

“And then she’s leaning closer and closer…” Chanyeol hums again.

The you behind his eyes, mirrors the actions and he watches, wide eyed as you’re almost nose to nose with him. Your breath fans over his cheeks and you flutter your eyes shut, standing there, waiting. He knows what comes next and his heart aches, his skin tingles, waiting for him to continue. He can’t even pinpoint whatever he’s feeling. He needs to repress it, he knows that he should or else it will just end up absolutely horrible. Baekhyun can’t seem to make a decision. His lips press into a thin line before his body is moving before he can react.

And he’s kissing you.

Baekhyun’s eyes fly open. He’s met with Chanyeol’s trademark grin set in place and a slight rise to his eyebrows. “So? What did you see?”

“We…” Baekhyun voice was barely above a whisper and he felt his skin tingle. That was it wasn’t it? “We kissed.” The butterflies raged and he let them.

Jongdae knows the tension between you and Baekhyun. He can quite literally feel it when he’s in close proximity between the two of you. It’s so thick it suffocates him. But he knows he can fix it. He’s good friends with the both of you and he knows where the two of you went wrong. Baekhyun is scared and running away from his feelings and you are beating yourself over having feelings for him. It’s a never ending cycle and Jongdae just wants it to stop. Which is why he’s strategically planned this last work study to the tiniest detail naming it: Let’s Get Them Together Because Everyone is Fucking Sick of it. The name needs work but the sentiment is still there.

The warmth of the cafe drafts over him as he opens the door, with you following closely behind him. He meets Baekhyun’s eyes for a split second before they immediately go towards you as you hide behind Jongdae like he’s some barrier. He doesn’t appreciate this and would prefer more eye contact between the two of you as to initiate something, so he moves away.

Jongdae reaches the table and hovers, as you take a seat on the edge seeing that Baekhyun took the other. You face each other, but don’t dare to look at one another. The both of you were thoughtful enough to leave a seat for him straight in the middle, so there was that at least.

Operation Let’s Get Them Together because Everyone is Fucking Sick of it is now a go.

“Y/N! Why don’t you show Baekhyun that thing you showed me last night?” Jongdae chimes, smiling. Baekhyun looks questionably between the two of you before focusing his attention on you where you pulled out your laptop and materials. “Would the two of you like anything to drink?” He further questions, inwardly patting himself on the back when the two of you scoot closer together to ‘see’ your screen.

“I’m fine,” you chimed, voice soft. “Thank you.”

“Baekhyun?” Jongdae questions before looking at the cup Baekhyun taps at.

“I’m good too.”

“Alrighty, then!” Jongdae exclaims, clapping his hands together, before narrowing his eyes at you. “Make sure you tell Byunnie here, everything alright? And in detail too!”

Jongdae proceeds to skip off, laughing heartily at the weird stares you probably shared behind his back. Jongdae wasn’t planning on doing anything. Just fueling the spark that already came between the two of you.

Baekhyun’s eyes have opened into a new dimension and he knows about what’s driving him to act like this towards you. Well of course, he knows, he’s always known but always chose to ignore it. But now, he wants to change. He wants to change but now, he doesn’t know how.

It’s been one week since his talk with Chanyeol and the three of you had met up almost everyday, seeing as you didn’t have much time to cram it all into the last day. He felt his walls breaking around you. A small smile whenever you scrunched your nose at a term you didn’t understand, turning to Jongdae all confused with some tech problem only to find out that it was something stupid—you would turn in to a blushing mess after. Whenever he met eyes with you, you would immediately look away and it made his heart clench.

Sometimes you made yourself so small, he forgot you were even there, letting his walls break down thinking he was only in front of Jongdae. He would then remember that you were present, making eye contact and he would then see the pretty blush you would sport. He’d shut up straight away.

Jongdae had planned to meet at a cafe this time, going out for ice cream later in celebration for finishing. Baekhyun had come far too early, going straight after his last class just in case he came too late—a bad habit of his. And once the two of you arrived together, he’d straightened, ready to get this done and over with. He still didn’t know what was going to happen with the two of you, but has accepted that whatever would happen, would happen. But after that weird encounter with Jongdae, he felt like something was up.

“That was… weird right?” Baekhyun spoke, looking at you.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “totally weird.” You didn’t look him in the eyes as you said this.

There were a few moments of silence that drifted between the two of you, the ambiance of the cafe seeming to make up for the lack of conversation, before you spoke up.

“Did you manage to find the stuff about the stool analysis? That’s what Jongdae was talking about earlier, I guess. He told me about it and I found some stuff just in case you didn’t,” you started shifting your computer towards him.

He leaned over, hoping with the depths of his soul that you couldn’t hear how loud his heart was beating in front of you. You pointed out the parts that you found interesting and the differences between the analysis you’d come up with the days before. Baekhyun hummed, nodding along to everything you were saying, before one point caught his eye. He pointed this out. “This one seems nice to use.”

You grinned, before flipping open your notebook. “Right? I thought so too. I found some additional information about that specimen and compiled them so we could add it to our presentation.” You slid the notebook over to Baekhyun as well, and he had to scoot his chair closer to see.

“If we use this in our presentation...” he started, lifting his head up and locking eyes with yours. His voice faltered.

You were a breath away from him, nose almost brushing into his. He stayed there, frozen, wondering as to what to do in this situation, mind running a mile a minute and yet doing nothing at all. You were the first to move, coughing haphazardly, and leaning away from him, before pulling open a few more tabs saved on your bookmarks.

It would be okay, right? It was just you that his heart was beating for. Baekhyun was just a little too late in realizing that.

Jongdae entered at just the right time and Baekhyun spent the rest of the time, avoiding your eye now and trying his very best to control the beating of his heart.

Night had fallen as they exited out of the cafe. Baekhyun and you both carried a drink, yours being hot chocolate and Baekhyun’s another coffee to keep him awake for the rest of the night. With increased practice for baseball came less time for him to focus on his studies. And he really needed that stable GPA.

“Well, I go this way,” Jongdae states, cocking his thumb to the right. You and Baekhyun turn to look at him, confusedly.

“Isn’t your apartment like right next to mine, though?” you ask, confusedly.

“Well, yes, but I promised to meet someone earlier. Sorry I can’t walk you home, Y/N, and no ice cream,” he apologizes before his eyes brighten up again. “Oh, Baekhyun! Can’t you just walk her home? You’re headed in somewhat the same direction, right?”

Baekhyun scratches the back of his head. “I guess?”

“Great!” Jongdae exclaims before skipping off once again.

“Jongdae is acting really weird today…” you comment and Baekhyun can’t help but nod his head in agreement.

It’s a twenty minute walk from where you are now to your apartment building. Half of the time is spent silent with Baekhyun.

Until you meet Sehun at the crosswalk.

“Oh, Y/N-noona, Baekhyun-hyung!” Sehun calls, and you wave at the familiar face, Baekhyun nodding in greeting. “Didn’t know you were such a gentleman, hyung,” Sehun teases, poking at Baekhyun’s sides. The older man swats at his arm in retaliation sticking his tongue out at the former. You laugh to the side at the two children it feels like you’re walking home.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out, eyes lighting up at the name.

“Who is it?” Sehun asks, as he slides next to you.

“My mom,” you reply.

The words are falling out of Baekhyun’s lips before he could stop them. “Tell her I said hi.”

You smile. “Okay.”

You pick up the phone, voice soft as you slowly walk in front of the two boys. “Hi, Mom.”

“Yes, yes, I’m good. Oh, by the way, Baekhyun says hello. Yes, the one from next door.”

You look back at Baekhyun. “My mom says hello back and that you should come over some time,” you state. “You don’t have to if you want to, though,” you add as an afterthought.

“I’ll come over if I have some time later,” he tries.

“Sure,” you answer, relaying his words to your mom. Baekhyun can’t help but look endearingly at you from the back.

Sehun brings Baekhyun’s attention on to him, then. “Hyung.”

He looks over, eyes blinking, as he places his hands in his pockets, craving the warmth as a particularly fierce wind drafts through. “What’s up?”

“You like her, don’t you?”

Baekhyun blushes at the sudden confrontation. He thinks about it for a second before replying, not once thinking that it not be true. “Yeah, I do. Why do you ask?”

“She… talked to me earlier about you. Like a few days ago,” Sehun started, voice lowering. The three of you passed the crosswalk and continued on the side of the road. Sehun and Baekhyun lagged the tiniest bit as you walked along unaware of the conversation being shared between the two boys.

“Yeah?”

“She said she said something to you and you just turned cold and it was all her fault. I didn’t push her, but I asked her why she didn’t just play it off and say that she didn’t mean it,” Sehun started, getting straight to the point. Baekhyun waited on the balls of his heels for the answer. “You know what she said?”

Baekhyun shook his head.

“It’s better this way. What if I grow too attached and he just leaves again. I don’t think I can do that.” Sehun looked at Baekhyun gauging him for an answer.

So... that’s how she felt?

Baekhyun didn’t like to think about the period when you stopped being friends. He thought it would be better for you, to stay away from his crowd. You would always used to point to them, saying that you didn’t like them because of how snotty there were. And when Baekhyun joined the baseball team, with those same people, he thought you would hate him for that or at least grow to hate him so he just... distanced himself before he could get hurt. Because he was childish. And immature. He didn’t account to how you would feel, thinking that you would get over it. Maybe Baekhyun was as much a stable in your life as you were in his.

“I’m telling you this, because I know you’re a good person and I really don’t want you to hurt her again. When you left her before, I think it affected her more than she lets on. She doesn’t show it much, but I think that’s why she’s so wary with people in general. I really don’t want to see her like that, ever. So please—”

“It’s okay, Sehunnie,” Baekhyun interjects. “I know. I’m planning on making things right between us and I don’t plan on letting her go.”

“Are you sure?” Sehun asks warily.

Baekhyun nodded in confirmation as you finally turn back, hanging up on your phone call and noticing the distance between you and the two of you boys.

You laugh. “You guys are so slow!”

Yes, Baekhyun is sure. He knows what he wants to do. What he needs to do.

You shivered under the touch of the cool autumn sky, the breeze ruffling up your hair. As an attempt to block yourself from the harsh winds, you pulled up your hoodie, the fabric covering your ears giving you just the warmth you crave.

A familiar mud green slide that twirled around like a pretzel came into view as you turned the corner. Your heart felt full at the images of sunny days and fall evenings spent in the very same space years ago, with a certain child.

It was surreal when you turned towards the swings and saw the same kid that you remember from your childhood. Tousled mop hair that went past the eyebrows, button nose, rosy cheeks, and the poutiest of pouts adorned his lips as he glared at the rock a few meters away. His jean clad legs, swung back and forth and the momentum carried him down then up then down and up again, a repeating cycle. As a child, you could never stand the swings for long—they made you get butterflies in your stomach, and not the good kind.

He spotted you, eyes widening and legs skidding across the wood chips to halt his flight, before you could even wonder whether you wanted to be there or not. It looked as if you’d intruded on a rather private moment. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

You stepped out of the shadows, clammy hands gripping the strap of your bag. “I’d ask the same to you.”

The swing only slightly rocked back and forth now and you walked up to him, taking the adjacent seat. You didn’t look at him, absentmindedly kicking your legs back and forth but then decided against it when a wave of nausea passed over you. Some things never change.

Baekhyun exhaled a heavy breath that somehow had layers to it. The creaking of the metal joints, rusted over years of children taking turns and calling dibs, showing, as he rocked back and forth. “You remember this place?”

You look towards the side, his voice drawing your attention. Clear, resolute, brights, but at this moment it sounded much different than the Baekhyun you remember. His head was tilted back, eyes closed and face relaxed, serene, and you couldn’t help but feel that way too. This place did something like that to you. All the jitters, and nervous butterflies were drowned out by the aura of this place, and it made you feel calm, comfortable. Home. “Of course I do,” you whispered. You were afraid that if you spoke too loud, something would break, and this, whatever this was would go with it. Your voice merely echoed through the space between the two of you, the buzz of cicadas quickly rebutting it.

“I come here sometimes,” he looks towards you as he says this, and you hold his eyes. Your eyes wander across his face. He looks so tired. “To think.”

You smile a small smile. “Funny.” He cocks an eyebrow at your comment. You shake your head at his pointed look. “I came here just to do that.”

“Do you come here often?”

Your breath comes out in visible puffs in front of you. “No.” Another, but larger. “Yes.”

He chuckles, his signature laugh making your smile grow even bigger. “And we’ve never seen each other before today? Crazy.”

“Yeah,” you grin. “Crazy.”

Your eyes bore into him, as Baekhyun, and as you see the way his shoulders hunch back, the furrow of his eyebrows, how his skin almost sags, the shadows bringing out the darkness under his eyes. You can’t help but ask, again. “Are you okay?”

His head tilts to your side and he opens one of his eyes, peering at you almost upside down, sideways. “Of course I am,” he chirps, “just a little tired ‘s all.”

“Then why don’t you go sleep?”

He tilts his head back up, eyes closing. “Can’t.” Silence looms over the two of you, but he breaks it, once again. “I actually need to apologize to you.”

You turn towards him, confusion etched over your face. “Apologize?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “I’m really sorry for being super... distant to you these past weeks. I don’t really know what got over me.”

“No, no, I mean,” you stutter, grasping his words and reason for an apology. “I should be apologizing. I guess, I stepped over a line, and your reaction was normal for what I did—”

“For what you did?” he interjects, puzzled. “I don’t get it, are we even talking about the same thing?”

“The locker rooms?” you try, wincing at the harsh memory and its outcome.

“Yeah… but you didn’t say anything like that—”

“Yes, but I said something that were implied in my words and—”

“Okay,” he grins and you warily meet his eyes. “How about we just forget that ever happened and start over again?” He cocks his head cutely and you inwardly coo, being reminded of the child you once knew (and now know again).

“Okay,” you agree, smiling.

The small smile he sported suddenly turned larger and much more wary. A mischievous grin pulled at the corner of his lips as he stood up to his full height, the swing twirling erratically at the loss of his weight. “I have an idea.” He bends down to pick up the backpack perched on the corner pole of frame when he looks at you, almost shy, and you were transported once again to the time when you were just a child and didn’t know anything better in the world. “You don’t need to be anywhere soon, do you?”

You shake your head no as you mirror him, dusting off your behind for remaining dirt, and straightening out your jacket.

“Great,” he beamed. “Let’s go!”

The arcade was still the same as you remember it. When you came to, wondering where in the hell Byun Baekhyun was taking you and whether you should’ve followed or him or just ditched to a sauna for the rest of the night was swiped clear out of your memory when you arrived at the front. A few of the letters balanced on a hilt of the building, were fused out, the A, C, and E, black in the darkness of the night. The sign now spelled, ‘RAD’ but you remembered the time when all of the letters dazzled bright colors all on their own.

Baekhyun shot you one of his award winning smiles when you looked at him, incredulously, mouth agape. “This was still here?” you marveled, breathlessly.

He nodded, excitingly. “It hasn’t changed one bit.”

And he wasn’t wrong.

The entrance was dimly lit, only one person over the counter and the teenage boy looked eerily dead, the light above him flickering on and off. When the bell chimed as you entered, he jolted, eyes glazing over the two of you.

“For two?” He queried, monotonously.

“Yes, please,” Baekhyun replied, bouncing on the tips of his toes.

The boy registered and handed you the tickets as you and Baekhyun paid for your own. Baekhyun tried paying for you saying that he dragged you into it, but you stared him down, and he eventually caved. Why would he even pay for you? It’s not like the two of you were on a—no! Y/N, don’t go there! Bad territory to be roaming around especially this close to a guy in a seemingly empty space. You shake your head free of thoughts as you focused back on the game at hand.

Baekhyun had got the lead when you glanced at his screen, but you quickly overpassed him, a trick from so long ago, now muscle memory, taking over you.

He groaned and you cheered as the tickets from under piled out and a crown displayed on your screen and a frowny face on his. You had an urge to soothe the scrunch between his brows when you saw him gloating off the number of tickets you accumulated over the time you’d been here.

As you headed to the counter filled with different toys and stuffed animals, the clock behind it showed that it was almost 10. You’d been here for two hours? It barely felt like 1.

Baekhyun’s eyes were trained on a pikachu plushie to the corner. He didn’t have enough tickets to buy them.

“I’ll get the Pikachu, over there,” you pointed, and couldn’t help but coo at the small almost inaudible whine that blew past Baekhyun’s lips. “Are you going to get anything?”

His eyes flitted between the number of tickets displayed on the machine and back to the wall of toys.

“How about that tiger over there? It kinda looks like you,” you nudged, smiling, when his eyes brightened up again at the sight.

“Okay,” he states. “I’ll take that one.”

The walk back was heavy, silent. The impending doom and the utter discomfort at not having a bed for the night loomed over you and you cursed yourself for ever giving in to your roommate's enticing offers. Dammit, you and your weak heart.

Baekhyun took a deep breath as the ticking of the crosswalk, halted you from the street. “I go this way.”

He points towards his left and you know your apartment is in the opposite direction but you can’t help but want to lie and walk with him just a little bit more. Everything about today had just been so... nice. There was no other way to describe. It made your cheeks blush red, your breath unsteady, your legs stagger and you heart beat so hard you felt as if it would burst out of your chest.

The words were falling past your lips and you wished to take them back as soon as they escaped when you saw the worry fall onto his face. “I was just gonna crash at a cafe for the night.”

“Too much homework?” he questioned.

“Well, yes, and I’ve been kicked out of my room for the night,” you laughed the last part off, hoping that it didn’t sound as bad as it really should. And then you realized that it did sound as bad as it did and you were quick to rebuke just in case a tiny part of Baekhyun worried for you. “I mean! It’s not a big deal or anything, just I owe Sehun a big favor and apparently his plus one’s house is under plumbing or something and I do have that essay do the day after, and I guess, it just all works out...?”

“You don’t have anywhere else?”

You nervously chuckled. “I already tried...? And it’s fine. Not the first time—”

“You can stay with me,” Baekhyun interjected. You coughed a sudden cough. “If you want to, I mean.”

“Uhhhh, well—”

“You’ll have to owe me a favor, of course, it’s not every day I let someone borrow the mattress under my bed, but it’s fine if its you, as long as it is a big favor.”

You stood speechless for the minutest of moments. “I—is that okay?”

“Yeah, it's cool. A big favor, though, okay,” he pointed.

You held your hands up in surrender. “A big favor,” you repeated.

He dropped his finger and a lazy smile that brightened up his face all the more, washed over him. “Let’s go then, I’m bunked.”

You startled awake, eyes shooting open. Darkness meets you and it takes a few moments to register the room you’re in with the only light source being from the tiny gap in the curtain. Curtains. Blue curtains. You don’t have blue curtains.

You’re currently on the floor. Laying on a mattress. There are two bunk beds on either side of you. One of them occupied with Byun Baekhyun who is currently dangling from the bed and drooling. Your brain finally registers awake and reruns everything that happened the night before, starting from your unexpected meeting all the way to Baekhyun’s gracious offer. Considering where you are now, last night wasn’t a dream.

You throw off the covers, suddenly feeling hot. Did he always sleep with no air conditioner? You wondered whether or not you should stay until he woke up, or if you’d be overstaying your welcome. Padding around for your phone, it was half past nine. You didn’t have any classes until the afternoon. You decided to kill time going through your social media, having nothing else to do. But your eyes soon got bored and trailed towards Baekhyun’s almost right above you.

You could make out his distinct features in the dim lights, the ones you are used to and everyone saw, but there was something so peaceful with the way his eyelashes laid against his cheeks and his lips and cheeks a rosy pink. And the drool. You stifled a laugh when the drool started to roll down his chin, threatening to drop off.

It wasn’t long for your heart to start pounding in your eardrums at the serenity of this environment and how quiet everything is. It starts getting louder, almost deafening until you peel your eyes away from Baekhyun.

You suddenly make eye contact with Chanyeol, who gazes at you blankly, face held in his palm.

You intake a sharp breath at the confrontation as he narrows his eyes at you. “Did Baekhyun bring you here?” he whispers.

You nod slowly before realizing the implication of the statement. “Wait, no! Not like that,” your harsh whisper makes Baekhyun stir and your wide-eyed as Chanyeol hold his finger to his lips. Like a deer caught in headlights you slowly nod in understanding. “I just didn’t have a place to stay, and Baekhyun offered. That’s all.”

Chanyeol’s eyes are clouded. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. For such an expressive person that everyone claims him to be he seems far too intimidating in front of you right now. “Do you like him?”

“What? No! Of course not.” you refute harshly. Chanyeol’s eyes narrow down at you. You wither under his gaze. “Okay, maybe a little. But don’t tell him, alright?”

“And why is that?” he presses.

“Just, please, I—”

I’m scared. You choke back the words.

“I don’t want to lose him as a friend.”

Chanyeol nods. “Okay. Just be careful with him, okay? Some people use him because he’s Byun Baekhyun and he just lets it happen because he’s too nice and won’t say anything, so just when you’re with him, take care of him alright?”

You look at him questionably. “Why are you telling me this?”

He laughs, waving the question off. “It’s nothing.”

“Huh... you’re awake?” Baekhyun slurs from above you.

“Oh, Baekhyun!” Chanyeol grins. “I was just about to make breakfast, Y/N, will you join me?” A flip had switched in Chanyeol’s demeanor and your eyes don’t leave his, even as he shuffles out of his bed, his earlier words bouncing off the walls in your head.

Baekhyun groans and flips his covers on top of his head, muffling a five minutes. Chanyeol cocked his towards you. “Coming?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, trailing behind Chanyeol.

xxx - xxx - xxxx [6:15 PM]: hey, Y/N! this is baekhyun! I got ur number from sehunnie if ur wondering

xxx - xxx - xxxx [6:15 PM]: i gave sehun a lil something for you :) make sure you wear it to the game tomorrow!

xxx - xxx - xxxx [6:15 PM]: also u forgot your pikachu at mine

‘xxx - xxx - xxxx has been added as a new contact: baekhyun’

y/n [6:16 PM]: ...should i be worried?

y/n [6:16 PM]: and you can keep it. u probably wanted it more than me. think of it as... payment? for letting me stay the night

baekhyun [6:17 PM]: it’ll look cute on u i swear!!! just please :,( for me??

baekhyun [6:17 PM]: also the pikachu will do

y/n [6:18 PM]: i hope ur not lying

baekhyun [6:18 PM]: i'm not!!!

y/n [6:19 PM]: sehun just came so i hope u stick to ur word

baekhyun [6:19 PM]: you’ll love it, trust me ;)

baekhyun [6:19 PM]: oh, i’ve gotta go now, duty calls

y/n [6:19 PM]: oh okay

y/n [6:20 PM]: get lots of rest and gl for tomorrow!!!

baekhyun [6:21 PM]: dw ill win it :)

baekhyun [6:21 PM]: just for you

‘message failed to send. try again?’

Baekhyun gave you one of his old jerseys, and a yellow t-shirt. You got the reference, his favorite color being yellow, and ‘byun’ printed on the back of the jersey.

“All the Baekhyun fans have one of these, but hyung said this one was special since he got it personally for you or some bullshit.” You didn’t care much for Sehun’s snarkiness, taking the clothing with gentle hands and scurrying off into your bedroom to squeal because Baekhyun got this just for you!!!

You’d tucked it into a pair of loose-fitted jeans the afternoon after, spending hours doing your hair and makeup before topping it off with a team hat. You’d gone for a minimalistic look, trying too much to make sure it didn’t look like you actually spent hours on it. Not that you were dressing up for a certain someone—who are you kidding, you are totally dressing to impress. Sehun took one look at you and snorted. You swatted his arm ignoring the look he gave you. “I haven’t seen this much effort since prom in senior year.”

You huffed a whatever, stalking out of your apartment and placing yourself in the backseat of his car, as you went to pick up Mina. Apparently the two of them were together again. You figured you knew when that happened.

When you get to the field, Sehun announced that he’s hungry and went off to the hot dog stand. You and Mina, meanwhile, climb up to your seats taking in the view. The bleachers are filled to the brim with people from your school and also people from not. You underestimated the sheer popularity of the baseball team in your state.

And you also noticed many other girls dressed up similarly to you.

“So there’s something between you and Baekhyun?” Mina spoke up, from beside you.

Your head whipped towards her and your mouth opened and closed like a fish, unable to make a response.

She glanced towards your shirt and then to the fine print of ‘byun’ across your back and raised an eyebrow at your lack of an answer.

“W-were just friends,” you finally stuttered out.

Mina’s eyebrows raise up another level. “Sure…” she says, sounding totally not convinced. “Because friends blush at the mention of another friend’s name.”

Your hands fly to your cheeks patting them down. “I’m not blushing,” you frown.

She laughs. “Whatever you say, but I personally think you’d be good together.”

You look at her, curiously, egging her to go on.

“I mean, Baekhyun doesn’t really date that often. Eunha—was a stupid decision on his part, I don’t know what got into him. But he’s a good guy and I think he really likes you, Y/N.”

“He likes h-h-uh?” you bumble, head spinning.

Mina snickers. “Yeah, I think he does. And I’m the best when figuring out these types of things,” she grins, adding a cheeky wink towards you.

Your left to mull about her words, as Sehun enters, handing you your hot dog and soda.

“Oh, it’s starting!” Sehun comments and the pitcher throws the first ball. The crowd goes wild.

The game ends with your team winning 6-4 and you find yourself cheering for them along with the others in the crowd.

Sehun drags you towards the locker rooms, telling you that it’ll be fine, and Baekhyun will totally not be weirded out by you visiting him after the game and telling him a good job.

“Sehun!” One of the team called out as you entered the locker room. A horde of sweaty boys swatted at your friend and took the compliments he threw out. You craned your neck searching to find a familiar pink-haired boy before someone called your name from behind.

You turned to find Baekhyun, with a towel slung over his neck, bangs sticking to his forehead, and cheeks flushed. Not to mention the smile that spread over his face like he just saw an angel. He looked effortlessly hot. So unfair.

He jogged towards you and before you could even say a hello, he threw his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You froze for a split second before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, a small smile playing on your lips. You forgot that he was really touchy realizing he must’ve never outgrown the habit, not that it was a particularily bad one. His drooling was far worse. With how tight he was hugging you, you figured it must’ve been out of relief. You knew it. He really was worried for the game.

“You did really well,” you breathed, lips hovering over his ear. He smelled like sweat, undoubtedly and you were sure the warmth would stick to your skin soon enough, but didn’t dare shy away from his hold. He would always hold you like this back then as well and you felt comfort from that fact. Some things really do never change.

He groaned, voice muffled by your skin. His lips moving against your neck sent shivers through your skin so even if you did hear it, your mind was on another level. Finally he pulled his head back, still crouched so he looked up at you, a smirk sporting his lips.

“You wore it.”

You rolled your eyes, and pulled your hands away from him, as he stood to his full height. “You’re the one who begged me to, Byun,” you huffed.

“No, I didn’t!” he exclaimed, sounding aghast at your presumption.

“Oh, really?” you egged, eyes sparkling. “Please? Just for me? Ring any bell?”

“Okay, okay, whatever, you say,” he grinned, hand coming up to ruffle your hair.

You frowned playfully before continuing. “But you did a really good job! You worried over nothing.”

“Who said I worried?” he pouted.

You laughed before motioning to his eye bags. He swatted at your hands, before the two of you burst into giggles.

And then suddenly he’s grabbing your free hand, his encasing yours in warmth and raising it up into the air before shouting a loud ‘let’s go!’ to the rest of the people in the room.

The team chorused shouts in answer before Baekhyun tugged at your arm, eyes smiling like they held the galaxy and stars back at you before pulling you with the crowd that filed out of the cramped room.

You lost Baekhyun to the crowd once you got to the party. Migrating towards the kitchen, you grabbed a soda from the fridge, deciding to pass on the drinks tonight, no matter how enticing they were. Sehun found you brooding in the corner not two minutes later, and true to his word, didn’t leave your side. You, Sehun, and Mina, played in a beer pong game with some guys you vaguely recognize from your sociology class, but can’t put a name on. You played rock, paper, scissors, every time to see who’d drink and it was as if Sehun got on the wrong side of Dionysus tonight. You quickly got bored, however, gravitating away from the crowd when Sehun and Mina headed out on to the dance floor. It couldn’t really be called that when really it was just the living room with some strobe lights and stereos that blasted half-assed music.

You took a seat on the empty two seater, sipping on your soda, and looking up when Jongdae came down to sit next to you.

“Having fun?” he asked, voice almost muffled by the music even though he was practically screaming.

“I think I’ve had enough for the night,” you laughed. “I’ll just find Baekhyun and Sehun and tell them I’m leaving before I go,” you say before getting up.

“Oh, I think I saw Baekhyun before, I’ll take you to him,” he commented, before leading the way.

It isn’t hard to find Baekhyun, what with his eccentric hair color and white outfit. However, Jongdae suddenly stops in front of you, making you bump into him.

His mouth opened to say something and you peeked over his shoulder, thinking that there was something there that you just had to see. “What is it—”

Your voice falters and then you lock eyes with Byun Baekhyun. And he’s kissing someone. He’s kissing Eunha.

Baekhyun regrets it the moment it happened. His eyes fly open, when her mouth comes into contact with his and he sees your eyes undoubtedly meet his across the crowds of people hovering over the shoulder of Kim Jongdae. You stare into his eyes and before he can even pull away or shout your name, your gone, surrounding yourself in the shadows with Jongdae running behind you. He snaps his head back, glaring at Eunha.

He doesn’t bother to speak a word to her, opting to run after the way you came from. Shit, shit, shit, this probably would not end well. No, no, no need for negative thoughts, he will make it end well.

He doesn’t find you in the kitchen which was the way you were headed but he found Sehun and pounced on his immediately.

“Did you see, Y/N?”

“Huh, no, why?” Sehun asked, eyebrows furrowed. The smile was wiped off his face and in place a frown. “Hyung…”

“Just, see if she texted you maybe?” Baekhyun pleads, voice growing louder at the upturn of music. Sehun cocks his head but does as he said, eyes widening before showing him the text.

y/n: sorry sehunnie, didn’t feel too well. went back home if you need me ^^

Baekhyun’s heart runs into overdrive, and he’s out of the door a split second after. His feet are carrying him as fast as possible and when he’s finally on the elevator going up to your floor, eyes blown out and breath ragged from running, he takes a moment to conserve himself. It was a mistake. And you have to understand that. Because what Baekhyun realized as he was egging the taxi driver to go faster across the city, was that he wanted you there with him. He wanted to kiss you. Not Eunha. Not anyone else. And he wanted to kiss you really fucking bad.

The door dings open and he sees the color of your jacket as you shuffle through your bag, presumably looking for your keys.

He’s by your side in a second and you turn and look around to see what's all the raucous. You visibly stiffen. Your face is streaked with tears, eyes puffy, cheeks blotchy, and lips a dark rouge as if you’ve been biting them for hours.

“Y/N…” Baekhyun starts hand reaching for your wrist unconsciously. You shift away from this and Baekhyun notices that deflating.

“What are you doing here?” you question, voice wobbling, as if you were about to start crying any second now. And from the way it looked, it seemed to be true.

“That kiss—” he starts, and Baekhyun realizes his voice is far too loud for the quiet of the empty hallway and as you flinch, he takes a sharp breath. “That kiss meant nothing. Eunha doesn’t mean anything to me anymore. She’s just an ex, and I guess she thought since I was being nice to her that meant that we could be together again, and really it isn’t anything like that because I don’t like her anymore.”

You blink owlishly at him, looking as if you aren't digesting what he was saying, which made Baekhyun halt. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Be-because, you saw! You saw me kissing Eunha, and I obviously had to explain it or else there would be too many misconceptions—”

“You don’t have to tell me that. It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything.” You laugh heartlessly and sniffle. “I’m just some delusional girl who thinks that just because she used to be your friend ages ago, she would somehow have even a sliver of a chance that you would like her, but again that’s delusional! Because it somehow managed to slip my mind that you’re Byun Baekhyun of the baseball team. Handsome, smart, athletic, kind, caring, loving and not the Byun Baekhyun who’d tripped over his own feet and have dirt and drool over his face all the time—”

Your crying as Baekhyun kisses you.

His weight leans into you and you take small steps back as your back hits the wall behind you. He adds more pressure, tilting his head, hand gripping your hand more just in case you felt as if this wasn’t real, which he believed what would be running through your mind now.

He feels like absolute putty when you soften at his touch and splay a delicate hand over his chest, and when he bites down on your lip you make a noncommittal noise from the back of your throat that has him falling.

You squeak when Baekhyun’s hands, one placed on your hip and the other on your neck and in your hair and everywhere, tilt your head higher, bringing him deeper into the kiss. It isn’t until you gently push him back, breathless, and eyes hooded that he takes a moment to consider the predicament he stood in.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” you breathe, wiping the stray tears away from your face.

Baekhyun chuckles softly, patting down your hair. “I thought you would say that.”

The clicking of a lock from the other side of the hall, snaps both your attention towards it. Baekhyun is amused as you look at him wide-eyed as the clicks continue. You pick up the key that somehow dropped to the floor in the midst of everything and are quick to open your door pulling Baekhyun in.

When the door shuts behind Baekhyun, with you leaning against his chest, breathing deep, and Baekhyun leaning against the door, he can’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.

His hands snake their way into your hair, one of them tilting your chin up. “Round two?” he smiles, cheekily.

You blush a pretty red before nodding and meeting him in the middle for a kiss.

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